Author's note: This is a two-shot and the second part will be publish next week. This first part is fluffier but ultimately, this is supposed to be angst so prepare your hearts for the second part.

Disclaimer: No, I don't own Fairy Tail. Hiro Mashima does.

Emptiness

Part 1

3rd May, year 791

Invel is usually the one to wake up first. His Majesty might be admirably intelligent and incomparably powerful, but he is also a late sleeper who groans whenever he has to get out of bed before mid-morning. It would almost be adorable, the way he would blink owlishly and take two more extra seconds to process everything that was said to him, if it wasn't for the fact that sometimes, Invel – and Alvarez – really needed him out of bed to attend to urgent matters. And unfortunately, in those days the Emperor couldn't be bothered to wake up early neither. During those days Invel knew he had fallen in deep because even though it should be infuriating, he could only find it endearing.

Today is the exception. By the time Invel's eyes open –the first rays of dawn sneaking in between the heavy, embroidered curtains–, his King is already up trying, and failing, to tie up his toga.

"My Lord." Invel stands up as soon as he sees him. "You should have woken me up."

"Ah. I was trying to let you sleep, actually," the younger mumbles.

"Let me, please," Invel says, grabbing the ends of the toga from hands that were more than willing to give them up. He has bags under his eyes, Invel notes.

The Royal Chamber is nothing less than magnificent. Big enough to accommodate thirty people comfortably, with crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and large windows that allow a privileged view to the Castle's lush gardens. The furniture follows the rule: mahogany tables surrounded by sofas upholstered in dark red velvet, and a giant library that covers every wall that isn't already decorated by a one-of-a-kind piece of art.

The library is the metaphorical point where the magnificence stops and the chaos begins. Books are scattered throughout the place; on the love seats, over the tables, on the floor… Notes can be found written everywhere. Everywhere meaning on pieces of paper but on the walls and the ceiling too. When Invel asked about that particular mania, the Emperor had simply answered, "the paper isn't big global enough…"

Yes. "Global". Invel still isn't entirely sure of what that is supposed to mean.

The maids restlessly clean the place every day, only to find it in the same state the next morning. The Emperor has an uncanny ability to materialize the mess inside his mind.

Invel, with his love for order and eternal seeking of perfection, should hate this side of him. And sometimes, it does get on his nerves. How the Emperor would disregard daily hygiene because "a book was too hooking to abandon it just for a shower", or leave his shoes on the middle of the floor for Invel to trip over them when walking in the darkness of the night. But most of times it's easy to forget the annoyance. Especially when he sees the passionate look on His Majesty's face whenever he was working on a new magic theory, or the child-like glee of making a new discovery.

Invel is too in love for his own healthiness.

"Sorry for waking you up." Zeref bites his lips, probably with remorse.

"Please, My Lord. You didn't wake me, I am used to waking up at this hour every day. Besides, it's my job to serve you," he says casually, as he works on the collar of the gown.

"But jobs shouldn't bother past working hours, should they? I must be an annoying boss."

"I happen to like my job a lot. I don't mind extra hours, Your Majesty."

Eyes still focused on the garments, Invel sees him grin on the corner of his vision.

"I'm so glad I have such a trustworthy man by my side."

Invel stays quiet. He can feel his Emperor's eyes studying his face as the buttons fall one per one into place. It definitely should not make him blush, considering that they have seen each other naked and done much more than just stare at each other. Maybe it's the small lull this kind of proximity provides, but he feels like Zeref is seeing straight into his soul.

As respectfully as he can, even though he knows he is speaking out of place, Invel says, "My Lord. You are staring."

"Am I?"

"Yes, you are."

"Oh. Is it making you uncomfortable? I'm sorry." But he doesn't remove his eyes. Instead his grin grows into a smirk.

"Your Majesty? You are still doing it."

"Can't help it. You are a beautiful sight to look at, Invel."

Invel's fingers tremble just a little, and so does his breath. His moment of shyness is short -lived, though. After years of intimacy, Invel knows when to keep his respect and when to step out of line.

"I see His Majesty woke up with in a flirtatious mood. I can only pray for the Gods to help me throughout the day."

"You make me sound like some sort of nuisance," Zeref grumbled.

"Oh, so you aren't?"

Zeref pouts with outrageousness, but there are giggles in his eyes.

"You just said you liked working for me very much!"

"My Lord, you cannot assume that I will just tell my boss how much he annoys me, can you? I would lose my job. I could even be sentence to death penalty." Invel hasn't looked up from his work on the intricate toga, but he can almost feel Zeref's eyes squinting.

"Oh, come on. I would never sentence you to death penalty."

"You wouldn't? Ah, but His Majesty is terrifying when throwing one of his tantrums…"

"Tantrums? Now you are making me sound like an immature child." Zeref tuts. "I'm anything but that, Invel. I am very rational. That's why I would never kill you. You are a very powerful asset and losing you would mean losing all the years I spent on perfecting your magic and skills."

His tone is light but there's a cold calculation to his words that would make a normal person flinch. Invel doesn't. Instead, he answers:

"I'm glad I can be of good use to my Emperor."

One last fastening of knots and Invel would be finished. Purposefully, his hands delay their work. There's fondness in the way he regards the garment, and a soft smile in his lips. Those words are some of the most honest he has ever spoken. Alas, honesty makes the atmosphere heavy. The fact that Zeref isn't answering only serves to thicken the air.

Witticism is usually a good needle to deflate this kind of tension, so Invel teases, "You committed a mistake by telling me you would never sentence me to death. I am now positive I can get away with anything."

Zeref cocks an eyebrow, tagging on the game.

"I just said I wouldn't sentence you to death, not that I wouldn't punish you."

"Oh, so then His Majesty would take actions against me?"

"A week or so in the torturing chambers should be enough to tame your sassy tongue," the younger says casually.

Invel snorts. "That would sour our relationship a little bit, don't you think?"

"No, I don't think so. You would forgive me."

"Is His Majesty so sure?"

"You would do it. If not for me then you would do it for the Empire. Your loyalty is your strongest virtue and worst weakness. That's another reason why I keep you so close to my side."

And there it was again. The oppressiveness of truth weighing down on the jokes. Afterwards, when alone to think, Invel would ponder just how much truth was hidden underneath those words. Quite a lot, probably. The Emperor knows him better than anyone else.

"Done," he whispers, because interrupting the quiet lull that had settled on the room felt like blasphemy.

Zeref's civil grin hasn't changed throughout the ordeal. When Invel's hands were about to leave the Emperor's coat, Zeref takes them in his.

Invel's icy heart stutters inside his chest.

"Thank you, Invel." Zeref's smile is loving, his eyes warm, tone so sweet. "For everything you do for me."

Even though it's disrespectful, Invel has to look away. His cheeks are warming up, much to his embarrassment.

"Everything for you, Your Majesty."

April, year 786

Invel had been younger, much younger when this private relationship started. Twenty two, maybe twenty three years old. The prodigious son of wealthy nobles, it didn't came as a surprise when the Emperor chose him as one of the few people he would take as magic students–one of the soon to be Spriggans–, but it still felt like unearthly honor.

He excels at everything he does and his magic classes were no exception. After a couple of years of private lessons, he became so powerful the Kingdom gave him a title: the Winter General. The Emperor's right hand and closest advisor, who guards His Majesty and keeps order in the Empire with an icy fist.

The problem arose when his magic stopped being the only thing growing in those classes.

Now, Invel had always considered himself a good soldier. A professional and loyal person who would always place his duty before his own wishes. He had never harbored anything more than absolute respect and admiration towards his Emperor, but seeing each other daily brought closeness. Closeness brought friendship. And in the midst of friendship, traitorous feelings bloomed, no matter what Invel did to stop them.

But the rumors of his frozen heart were well based. Invel had locked those feelings down and kept his composure every day, more than happy to let them simmer inside of him forever.

Apparently, the Emperor had had other plans.

The tension had only grown until one fateful spring afternoon. A meeting had happened, about something too trivial for Invel to remember. But the His Majesty had been present and of course, so had Invel.

When the meeting finishes, as it was habit, Invel stays behind to revise everything that had been said and done. He gathers his papers as the rest of the Spriggans leave the round table and exit the room, muttering to himself. He doesn't realize the Emperor is still there until he looks up and finds him still sitting on his throne, following Invel's movements with his gaze.

"My Lord," he says, brows furrowed, "Can I help you with anything?"

Zeref hums, amused smile well settled on his lips. His elbow rests over the armrest, his head on his hand, exhibiting a relaxed posture.

"I was just thinking about something. Don't mind me."

The advisor falters before reluctantly returning to his papers. Discipline is a lifestyle for him; never one hair out of place, back always in a perfectly straight posture. But lately, this consciously designed façade has started to cracked whenever he is around the man he admires so much. When the two of them are left alone, he becomes skittish, limbs clumsy, gaze fidgety.

He keeps mumbling, mainly to keep a leash on his nerves, when suddenly he hears the Emperor stand up from his throne. Zeref walks towards him and silences his ramblings with a kiss.

Invel drops what he had been holding.

The kiss is soft and light and sweet. Just the fluttering of lips. Invel forgets to close his eyes. In fact, he doesn't do anything. The shock has him frozen on spot, body rigid, as if struck by his own magic. Zeref parts away–as delicately as he closed the space between them–,engages his eyes and lifts an eyebrow.

"What? I know it's been years, but I can't be that bad of a kisser."

Invel sputters, blinks, reaches for words but comes out empty-handed. His mind is in shambles; he still doesn't understand what just transpired between them. His first instinct is- as always- to reassure his Emperor, so he manages something like that.

"N-no, Your Majesty! Of course you aren't!"

"Oh, thank the Gods. I was starting to fear I might have made a fool of myself. Last time I kiss someone things didn't end up well."

"N-not at all." Invel was feeling like he was the fooled one here.

Zeref giggles, carefree, and suddenly looks a lot younger than he is supposed to be. For a second, Invel just watches, dumbfounded, because he is more beautiful than a human should be allowed to be. Then that second finishes and his confusion fades into annoyance as his ego feels damaged. He composes himself as quickly as he can– Zeref is still laughing.

With his signature scowl punctuating every word, he asks, "Your Majesty, what's the meaning of this?"

Zeref lifts a mirthful eyebrow.

"Many people would say you are an intelligent man, Invel. Myself included." His smile hasn't fully disappeared, but at least his is not laughing anymore. "I find you attractive Invel. And I was very sure the feeling was reciprocated. Your silence is making me doubt, though."

Invel's comeback dies before having a chance to leave his lips. He looks down, shame heating up his cheeks, and squeezes the papers that rest on the table between his fingers. He wonders if he'll be fired from his post at the castle. Maybe exiled from the Empire? Lusting after the Emperor does seem like a serious crime.

"I guess my subtlety was mediocre at best, then."

"Oh no, you were subtle." His Majesty took a more comfortable posture, leaning his weight against the table by their side, cocking his head to the side like a dog would. "If it appeases your soul, I don't think anyone else has picked up on it. I'm just too intelligent for you."

Something on the playfulness relaxes Invel. He figures that if he hasn't been dragged out by guards until now, the Emperor must agree on this… whatever this thing going on is.

Emboldened, he dares to follow the game.

"I never thought His Majesty was a bragger… I always took you for a more humble person."

"I'm not bragging! Seriously!" There it is again, that youthful glee that makes him look more like a teenager than the adult he is supposed to be. "Did I ever tell you I was the smartest student in my class? Hell, I was teaching other students before I was ten."

A fond smile takes over Invel's face, the remnants of his chagrin completely gone now.

"You never told me but it does not surprise me. You are the strongest mage in the world. Your Majesty." He manages to hook the title in the last part of the sentence. He almost forgot the rules of protocol that separate them.

Something touches his hand. He looks down to find that Zeref has threaded their fingers together. Silence has filled the empty room. It's not uncomfortable but heavy, expectant. He can feel the Emperor gauging his blushing face. As if magnetized, icy blue eyes are drawn towards darker ones.

"I'll do it again."

"What?" Invel asks, in slight confusion.

"Kiss you. I want to do it again."

"Oh."

This time, Invel does close his eyes. Zeref is only slightly shorter than him. Invel needs to tilt his head down a little to meet his lips. This kiss is warmer, sweeter if that was possible. There's the uncertainty of experimentation, of two people getting to know each other, and it doesn't quite fade away. It is not enough to damper the moment. If anything, it highlighters it: the ticklishness of light breaths, the soft sounds as they part and meet again. Without thinking it, Invel poses his hand on Zeref's jaw and tilts it upwards to deepen the kiss. He can feel Zeref grin against his lips.

They have yet to let go of each other's hand.

Author's note: I had a lot of fun making Zeref a little shit. Find me on tumblr, my username is oliegoldenwolf.

Reviews and constructive criticism and very appreciated!