Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail or any of its characters.


Rogue could not remember not having Sting in his life. When his mother died, and then his father and when all seemed utterly dark and lonely Sting had been the single constant in his life, the light in his darkness. Whenever it had come for him, cold and unforgiving, Sting had kept him on track, always supporting him.

Rogue could not understand how he had come to deserve such a person. He still could not fathom what had possessed Sting to sit down next to the dark, already brooding boy when they were in kindergarten but he had, and then he had never left. Rogue had to admit he had been annoyed at first, Sting never stopped smiling, and it was such a goofy smile at that, and he never stopped talking even when there wasn't a single response from Rogue or even an indication that Rogue was even listening. But then one day Sting had been home from school and Rogue had felt as if a part of him was missing and so he never complained ever again (if not to tease) and so they set themselves in a pattern.

It didn't take long for Rogue to understand that Sting had, just like him, experienced loss in his life. And while Rogue had coped by shutting everything off, Sting had let everything in. He experienced everything so much more, just in case it wouldn't last. Rogue didn't think that way, why bother putting energy on something that wasn't going to stay?

It's an ironic thought now, more than 10 years later, because he has never put down more energy for anything or anyone, including himself, than he has on his relationship with Sting. And it isn't even certain it's going to last. It is, by his normal standards, a useless investment, but he can't step away.

If he remembers the day they met as clearly as he remembers what he did a minute ago he cannot remember the moment he fell in love with Sting. It's probably because it wasn't one single moment, but because he fell for him slowly, one interaction at a time. He remembers the day he realized though, the moment the curtain dropped and his life got turned upside down and shit, this is not just how you feel for your best friend, this is how you feel for the one you are in love with. He recalls watching a movie, although not which one, and Sting is laughing at something and he is too, and then he stops mid-laugh because Stings face is glowing and his laugh is all bubbly and he is so pretty and Rogue feels his heart in his throat and oh.

It becomes awkward after that, or so Rogue thought it would. Sting doesn't notice any difference in his behaviour, he has always been so aloof and oblivious to the small things, so Rogue keeps up the act. And if he steels more looks or sit just a tiny bit further away on the couch when they watch a movie, because Sting smell delicious and its incredibly distracting, or if he wakes up more than once with wet underwear after a very explicit dream featuring his best friend, he keeps the act.

Being best friends is enough Rogue thinks, because they are constantly together anyway and Sting seems to not want it any other way and so it's enough. However, it becomes more difficult the closer they get to their eighteenth birthdays. It is common knowledge that when you turn eighteen you stop aging, and only when you find your soulmate do you start aging again. If he had been a romantic person Rogue would have thought it sweet, because then you would have as many years as possible with the one you love, but Rogue is no such thing. It doesn't help that the person he wants to grow old with isn't his soulmate and that Rogue never will get older than eighteen because he can't even fathom being with, or feel the same way about, someone other than Sting.

Their birthdays come and pass and nothing fundamental happens. Rogue wish he could relax but he can't stop the thoughts of seeing a sign of age on Sting and realizing that he has met someone, and that someone is going to take him away. When Sting proposes they move in together when they start attending university Rogue finds himself in a bittersweet hell. Living together is a new thing, although they hung out practically every single moment of the day anyway, they still had their own places and it didn't seem as close as it does now. Because now Rogue finds all these new things to love about Sting, like how he sings (terribly) in the shower, and leaves pathetic (heart-warming) notes on the mirror for Rogue to read or how he always fall asleep on the couch every night, and Rogue can't help but wishing that Sting never finds his soulmate because then they can stay like this forever and it's selfish and wrong but he can't help himself.

They have been living together for two years when Rogue notices it. It is subtle, and Rogue probably only sees it because he is so attuned to how Sting looks, but it is there, the subtle change of his face, his jaw a little more defined, the baby fat from his cheeks all gone. Sting has aged. Rogue shuts himself in his room the entire night and holds a pillow to his face to muffle his sobs. The walls between their bedrooms aren't thin, thank gods or Sting would have heard one or two or million moaned out versions of his name, but Rogue is crying like he has never before and it's loud and pathetic and please don't let Sting hear him.

His face is puffy and red the morning after and he's got a headache and everything just feels like shit. He tells Sting he's sick and doesn't come out of his room for the entire day. It's a good thing Sting is at school the entire day or else he might have barged in in his thoughtless way and then all would be ruined. But then again, Sting is not known for reading people so he probably won't even notice that something is bothering him. He should've known better though. Rogue likes to pride himself of knowing Sting the best, reading him as easy as himself, but he hadn't thought that it was the same with Sting reading him.

It is two days since Rogue realized Sting has aged and the pain is still raw and the edges are sharp and his heart feels as if a cold hand is squeezing it slowly, slowly. This time when Sting calls for dinner, which is strange in itself because Sting hates cooking, and this time when Rogue calls out that he is still sick Sting won't take no for an answer. Knowing it is useless to argue when Sting decides something, he shuffles to the bathroom to at least try not to look as miserable as he feels. When he has put it up for as long as he can, he can practically hear Sting tap his foot in the kitchen he sighs and slowly makes his way to the kitchen (hell).

Dinner is quiet, as opposite of what Rogue would have thought, but from all of the glances he keeps getting from Sting, he knows the other is just working up some steam, or possibly waiting for him to start, which is never going to happen. After ten minutes of chewing Sting loses his patience.

"What is the matter with you?" he says pointedly, waving his fork around.

"I've been sick," Rogue answers automatically, trying not to lose focus as Sting's eyes narrow. God he looks tempting.

"Sick my ass," Sting says, "You haven't been sick your entire life, don't lie to me."

"There is a first for everything," Rogue says primly, and before he can stop himself, or perhaps he doesn't want to, he says; "besides, you haven't been that honest with me."

Sting looks taken aback at that. "What do you mean? I have never lied to you about anything!"

"No?" Rogue asks, and he knows he sounds like a five year old but he can't stop now that he has started. "You have aged," he says, and it comes out as an accusation, and for a second he is regretting it because he should be happy Sting has found someone and Sting doesn't have any obligations to him but he can't help but feel betrayed.

"I …" Sting starts but now Rogue is fired up and he needs to know who it is.

"Who is she?" he says hotly, "Is it that Yukino girl in your class? Or that Minerva?" he is rambling and stumbling over his words and is probably sounding like a jerk. "Or is it a guy? That Natsu you admire so much?" Rogue is spitting out the words as if they are poison, the names leaving a bitter tang on his mouth. He is breathing hard as well, and when did he rise from the chair?

They stare at each other for a moment before Sting stands as well. "Are you done now?" he asks and Rogue feels like the biggest ass on the planet because this is his friend and he should be supportive, wouldn't he have wanted Sting to be supportive had it been the other way around?

"I'm sorry," Rogue says, and it sounds weak in his ears. He feels weak all over and there is that bitter feeling of tears clogging his throat.

"You have aged as well," Sting says then and when Rogue can register the words the world threaten to give way.

"What do you mean?" he says breathlessly because if Sting is implying what he thinks he does then he needs to hear it out loud from Stings mouth.

"You have never stopped aging, and neither have I," Sting says and the noise in Rogues ears are getting louder and his heart is in his throat again. "I thought you knew."

They are still staring at each other, as if the world only consists of the two of them, and the balance is kept in their eyes.

"I thought you knew," Sting says again, and this time he is breathless as well and Rogue can't get a word out of his sand paper dry mouth.

"Don't you think that if I had known, we would have done something about it?" When he finally gets the words out he sound like a frog choking but neither of them pays that any notice.

"I guess I thought you weren't in to that stuff? I mean, you can be soulmates in a platonic way too?" Sting sounds so uncertain when he says it that Rogue can't help but let a nervous laugh out. Sting joins him and for a second the air isn't as stifling anymore. Then Rogue sobers up because there is something he has to make clear.

"I don't want anything near platonic with you," he says and the words feel ridiculous and he feels like a fool but Sting is his soulmate and this is a dream, this is a dream, this is real.

"Oh."

"Oh."

And then Rogue's back is against the wall and there is probably food on the floor because Sting knocked the table down but he doesn't care because Stings lips is on his and they are finally kissing and it feels like heaven.

It's awkward at first because they are inexperienced and hasty and Rogue kisses with his lips closed and Sting has his mouth open, but as with everything else they do they soon fall into rhythm with each other and it's as easy as breathing.

Soon the clothes turn out to be in the way, and it's straining at parts that wants out and they want to be flush against each other, no obstacles between them. They make their way clumsily towards one of the bedrooms, not caring which one, clothes falling in their wake. When they finally manages to get to a bed they are stark naked, pressing against each other in all the right places and it feels like coming home.


Author's note: Yes I know, I skipped the smut again. I had it all worked out (just like the other's) and then it just didn't work out. One day I will write it, promise.