Gasp. What's this? I'm not dead?
Lo and behold I have a drabble to put up for the first time in ages and make people's author alerts light up.
And as for news that may make people rejoice, I'm wholly considering rewriting Gravitation.
In the meantime, enjoy this; it's part of a 30 Day OTP challenge, so more little one-shots will inevitably be inbound.
The first time their hands touch, it's almost brief enough to be called accidental in the eyes of the young shaman.
Almost.
He pulls back, of course, concealing his shock at having been able to feel it with a glower and sharp words for the priest whom simply looks at him with wry innocence twitching the lips of his mouth upwards, as if he had done nothing wrong and could not see why Zelgadis would respond so. It makes the chimera want to punch Xelloss in that smiling face as hard as he can; but then, that's normal where he's concerned.
The second time their hands touch, it is deliberate on the priest's behalf as he yanks the young man off-balance, almost throwing the chimera face down into the dirt between them as a result of Zelgadis lunging at him with a sword lit with the crimson shade of an Astral Vine; his touch is firm and sure upon the shaman's wrist and Zelgadis discovers, later, that his wrist aches as if it's been bruised. It's a painful sensation but he almost, almost, cherishes it. It's so difficult to feel anything. He's not sure if he's happy, however, that he can feel Xelloss.
The third time it happens, it's not so accidental and Zelgadis fights the urge to pull back as he watches that pale hand curl against his, mouth tightening into a thin line of reply at the sensation of the mazoku's body heat lingering upon his skin. He's not been able to feel anyone in so long and yet here Xelloss is, touching him, not pulling back and simply smiling as he leans in, distracting the chimera with a murmur of warm air against his ear and yet, the words from the priest aren't enough to distract the young shaman from the sensations of heat and touch. He wants to hit the priest in his stupid face afterwards, of course, and hurls anger at Xelloss even if he knows that the bloody fruitcake will see it far more as a main course instead of the aggravation that Zelgadis means for it to be but the priest instead just smiles and taps a fingertip to the corner of his lips, looking entirely too pleased on some level that makes Zelgadis' spine crawl.
And then before he can demand some kind of explanation from Xelloss, the purple-haired priest vanishes in a hiss of displaced air and violet-black energy as if he never were there.
Weeks go by and the shaman has moved from one set of ruins to another, observing them and trying as ever to find a cure. It's three days into his stint at the new site when a pair of all too familiar hands are grasping his shoulders while a voice chuckles against one ear and he drives his elbow back without looking, feels a nose break, ignores the priest's muffled response of "What was that for?!" and simply smiles.
Maybe a bit of him missed Xelloss.
Just maybe.
But then the priest is allowing himself to read the words of the ruins too and that has Zelgadis watching him with bitter suspicion roiling through his chest. He still remembers those green flames as they consumed the delicate vellum pages of the Claire Bible manuscript; orders or not, the priest had known just how much he'd wanted those papers and had to have enjoyed destroying them. But when he just smiles and shrugs, glancing with one half-slitted eye in Zelgadis' direction, the chimera isn't sure what to make of that. So instead, he decides to ignore it and turns away from Xelloss.
Maybe he shouldn't have ignored it as the priest lingers for days afterwards, the look, but Zelgadis has spent so much time on his own, he ignores the casual frivolities in favor of temporary company, aware that the mazoku will vanish eventually to go find Lina and pull her into some kind of crazy scheme that will inevitably bring him back in too. But the priest seems to be in no rush and he's been touching Zelgadis, making the young man's skin shudder beneath the stone hide.
Does Xelloss know what those touches are doing to him? When there's a glimpse of a wry pleasure upon the almost-feminine features, Zelgadis comes to the conclusion that yes, Xelloss knows exactly what he's doing to the young man. It leads to anger. It leads to a thrown punch as they scuffle and he winds up below Xelloss after a short time later, their mouths together and when they separate, he gasps out a "Bastard" before they're kissing again and Xelloss' hands are pressed against his own, fingers entwined together.
It's just kisses so far but it's what started with their hands touching.
Zelgadis still hates him.
The bastard.