Title: Word of the Day v. FFIV
Author: Garnet Eyes
Archived: fanfiction .net, livejournal .com
Last Updated: 23 Apr 2011
Summary: 11 May 2000 edition.
Rating: T
Characters/Pairings: Cecil, Kain, Kain x Cecil
Author Notes: pari passu, adverb;
1. At an equal pace or rate.
Disclaimers: Final Fantasy IV is owned by Square-Enix and I in no way, shape, or form profit off of my writing. This is simply for my own pleasure, and may at any time be removed and/or modified as I see fit.
...
It was raining the day Kain returned. The skies were deep gray and dropped a heavy downpour, making even the most often trodden paths a muddy mess. The dragoon still pressed forward in the midst of it all, because he was tired of sleeping on the ground and he wanted to be back at the castle to see what had changed in his absence. Since he'd been traveling all day, he was soaked entirely through, but the thought of a hot bath and a good meal while spending time with those most important to him pushed him steadily onward.
He'd never once expected to see Baron's king outside in this awful weather, and he'd been surprised to suddenly lock eyes with the man in the distance when the dragoon was not far from Baron City. The paladin was alone, without a visible guard, and had obviously been out for quite some time, judging from his soggy appearance. Even from the vast distance still separating them, the blonde could see as emerald eyes blinked twice before Cecil suddenly froze as though he'd seen a ghost. Kain couldn't really blame him; it had been years since the dragoon had contacted anyone.
All at once, the paladin shrugged off his surprise and took a step toward the older knight. Then another. Then another, and he suddenly broke into a sprint. Kain hardly noticed that he mirrored Cecil's movements, focused solely on the fact that he was finally, clearly, home. The impact of their armored bodies colliding made a horrific noise, but the dragoon didn't even hear it as waterlogged, calloused hands threaded over his cheeks and back into his hair, even as his own fingers sunk into dripping moon-tone tresses and tilted that heart-shaped face up. Lips met, first Cecil pressing harder, then Kain, then Cecil again, and then it didn't matter as the dragoon parted his lips and the paladin mimicked the gesture, their tongues tangling between their mouths.
The rain fell steadily over them, even as Kain slid his hands from the smaller man's head down to the small of his back, carefully avoiding the pauldron spikes by instinct alone. Cecil leaned closer, his wide emerald eyes fluttering closed as their tongues continued to twine together, and the dragoon allowed his own eyes to close in kind, savoring his first taste of home. For as long as he lived, Kain swore to himself that he would never leave again.