This chapter, this behemoth of a chapter is the most heavily inspired by Reverie, sharing some parallels and beats but I made sure to add my own spin on it. On that note if you like this story I really recommend Reverie and the other stories by AuroraRayne. Even now they serve as an inspiration for me to better my writing.
That said, this chapter, this story as a whole and in extension its upcoming sequels in this series wouldn't exist if not for the creative spark one-shots like Reverie gave me, and in that vein I consider this story as much AuroaRayne's as it is my own. I can't credit you enough and I can but hope I'll deliver.
Furthermore, the content in this chapter is the whole reason this fic is M-rated. I am still relatively fresh in writing such intimate scenes truth be told, but I did try my best.
I hope you all enjoy. As always I took my due time, and especially so with this one now that we are so close to the end.
His hair and the fur of his tail are still damp after his bath in the lake, but Y'sato doesn't pay it much heed. His body is more sore and achy than he thought, skin bruised black and blue from dodging fang and claw of voidsent and an angry dragon's tail and gaping maws alike. Only a vigorous scrub could scrape away the sweat caked with bile and hounds breath, not to mention the blood streaking his face and hair. After his foray into the void, and finding himself forced to cut his way into the belly of a three-headed hellhound of all things left him quite the stinky, gory mess at the end. He still has to wash his armor properly, but he decides it can wait for the morrow.
After all the new lingering aches of today are already burden enough on weary bones.
Stars shimmer like diamonds on the darkened veil above as he trudges back to camp, wearing nothing but a pair of white cotton pants and his nightshirt. He only manages to drag up enough energy to offer Cid sitting around the fireplace alongside Biggs and Wedge a weary nod and a half-hearted smile before retreating to his and G'raha's tent. He finds it dark and empty. Worry grips him, but he is quick in getting a hold of himself. Of course his friend would seek solitude after everything, needing the clarity of mind to cope with the enormity of receiving the missing piece of his history at last, the Allagan blood that brought forth the might and memory of his ancestors.
I will see him soon. Don't worry. I know him. He just needs a moment.
Unceremoniously he drops the half-washed armor down by the small chest acting as his dresser. He pulls out a clean towel, wrapping his damp tail in with it before relinquishing the worries of today to the comfort of his bedroll. He wraps himself up in the warm furs, curling into their warmth, their comforting scent. After moons sharing a tent together their nest of furs smells like them, smells like him, of ink, parchment, and dusty tomes and cinnamon, but underneath it all there's the unmistakable scent that is uniquely his. His scent, it already reminds him of home, or as close to a home he ever had.
G'raha...he has become akin to a home to him, and he hopes after the expedition, and the Tower is sealed they can still hang out like this. Can still go on adventures together, and maybe he will finally manage to dredge up the courage to ask before he returns to Sharlayan, to his studies.
Maybe.
He closes his eyes, yet sleep never comes easy after a fight. The lingering battle high floods his system with adrenaline even hours after he lays down his daggers, and paired with the aches that will surely bruise it is a miracle he manages to drift off in the first place but drift off he does, not even noticing as the other occupant returns to the tent but a couple bells later.
Y'sato isn't sure if it is his own restlessness that wakes him, or the gentle fingers running through his hair, neatly trimmed fingernails lightly scraping against his scalp between his ears. Slowly he grows aware of laying on his back, the moisture of his trapped towel-wrapped tail seeping into the leg of the side of his pants, but it's of no consequence. G'raha's soothing touch calms him like nothing else, and so he does not move.
The slow repetitive motion both soothes and stirs him, keeping him on the edge of sleep, but lucid enough to not fall under. He fights the sluggish urge, not wanting to lose a moment of this no matter how much his tiredness screams at him to give in. He needs, he wants to stay awake for this. This peace is the only prize he claims for today's victory. Cid and Rammboes will undoubtedly be sure to laud him a hero on the morrow, and write down and embellish his deeds enough to make him cringe, but this, this moment of bliss shared with a trusted friend in the night under the glow of a crescent summer moon is all he really cares about, and all he truly needs.
To be the Warrior of Light...He never asked for it. Never wanted it or the newfound glory the mantle has bestowed on him.
It ill suits him, but no one seems to notice. No one except his most cherished friend.
This. To be here in his tent with G'raha. To simply feel safe and cared for, is everything he truly ever wanted.
A sleepy groan escapes him as he feels G'raha's soothing touch move to gently scratch him behind one of his ears. Y'sato tilts his head towards him, granting him better access. He knows he has about given himself away, but he doesn't care. This touch, he craves it. More than anything.
And he shows his appreciation in the only way he knows. He purrs, the sound a low rumble in his throat
He hears a warm chuckle rumble to his left, close to his face. Y'sato just smiles, unwilling to blink his tired eyes open.
"Forgive me. I did not intend to wake you."
The gravel of his friend's tired, unused voice stirs something within him, a swirl of guilt and pleasure he decides to leave untouched. His eyes still closed he shifts to lay on his side facing him, this way granting G'raha even better access to scratch him behind his ear. Something his friend obliges without question.
"It's alright. I was pretty much awake anyway." Y'sato says with a yawn. Not the full truth, but not a lie either. It is a relief, to wake with him beside him, even more so to wake up to his soothing, caring touch. Already his prior worries are melting away.
"So I am led to believe I was imagining the snoring was I?"
Y'sato laughs, smiling as he burrows his face further into his pillow, the fabric still damp from his dip in the lake earlier. "You're implying I snore? Yes, you're definitely imagining things."
"Ah yes," The amusement in his tired, muted voice rings true, and Y'sato's smile widens from hearing it. "It seems I was mistaken. A trick of the wind perhaps?"
Y'sato chuckles. "It got to be."
"But to be truthful, you do snore, my friend. And loudly in my ear at that sometimes as well as stealing my blanket."
"And?" Y'sato says flicking his ear not squished into the pillow up in question, still not opening his eyes. The amusement is still there in G'raha's voice so he knows he means it all in jest.
"What I mean to say is I don't really mind. You are often exhausted, worn down to the bone so some snoring is to be expected."
G'raha's soothing scratch behind his ear turns into a light massage before Y'sato can fully think up a clever way to retort, G'raha's fingers running along the base of his ear in practiced smooth motions, much like Y'sato did to him last night. He melts under the touch, letting out a soft moan as he gives himself over to the bliss. He can hear the smile in G'raha's voice as he speaks.
"That said I did not mean to keep you. Rest. You have more than earned it."
It is a tempting proposition, one not made easier by his anesthetic touch, but Y'sato fights the sluggish urge, not wanting to go back to sleep just yet. "But what about you? Why are you still awake? Aren't you tired?"
The soothing massage of his ear stills. A breath tickles his hair, not quite a sigh. "Sleep evades me I am afraid. Tis no matter though. I am confident I will get some rest ere long."
Y'sato hums a note of understanding, knowing too well the relentless hold insomnia can have.
"If you like you can read. I don't mind the light from your wind-up sun."
"Thank you for the offer, but I am fine I assure you." His already soft-spoken voice dwindles to a whisper, almost a caress, as he rests his hand on Y'sato's hip. "Besides I am perfectly content where I am."
The implications of his words, his touch have Y'sato's skin aflush well remembering how the mere notion of kissing G'raha's lips made him feel last night. Coiled up in the towel as it is his tail thumps once, twice. No, these hopes he keeps locked up safe and sound within the screaming silence of his heart. This closeness is a regular occurrence, been for a while, but it doesn't mean G'raha's touches mean anything more than close, affectionate friendship. A part of him wants so badly to go further, to know for sure if G'raha feels the same, and yet he fears it, to cross his bounds, a line in the sand between them he cannot see. Never before has he met someone quite like him, someone inheriting a soul he is so in tune with, and the thought of losing this, of losing what they have, the strong connection they share. The very thought of losing him. Especially since he has already been so close in losing him once. The thought of it happening again even in a different fashion...
It leaves him hollow. A gaping void in his chest.
That truth comes to him in a familiar catch of breath, in the tight squeeze in his throat... His bravery does indeed know its bounds, and right now he can do nothing but watch as it flees in cowardly surrender once more. In its wake, he is left at the mercy of the beating heart before his own. He knows G'raha wears a mask of bravado for the world to see, ever eager to prove his worth where his upbringing had done its best to convince him he had nothing. Is nothing. A tale they both share in common and thanks to that fact. Of them forging a special kinship out of their shared misfortunes, for him, G'raha has long removed his mask. Beneath the eccentric shell is a starry-eyed scholar with scars on his heart much similar to his own. With him he does not need to hide, and for that Y'sato is ever grateful.
It's a terrifying truth, but simple enough. Y'sato is his. He has fallen tail over ears for him and if that is something G'raha wants he will let him have it, have everything he can offer...but something holds him back.
If only he could be brave enough to fully remove his own mask...To lay it all bare...
One day...When I find the courage...I...You deserve no less.
For now, that one thought gives him strength. With a cleansing breath, he finally manages to peel his heavy tired eyes open. Wearily he blinks before looking up to meet G'raha's, and he freezes.
Two red eyes gaze back at him, their vibrancy stark and almost unsettling in the dimness of their tent, only lit up by faint firelight from outside filtering through the thin brown cloth. The change is new and startling enough he flinches.
The peaceful set of G'raha's mouth falters, but he recovers with a wry smile. "Are they truly that unsettling?"
"No," Y'sato is quick to reassure, a soft smile spreading across his lips. "I'm just not used to it."
G'raha shifts on his elbow, tugging the fur blanket closer around them both. He averts his gaze. "You can be honest with me. You know that. I won't fault you for it."
"I am being honest." Y'sato dares to lean up on his elbow to reach out for his friend. Without hesitation he pushes aside his fringe, his hair silken against his fingertips. There his touch stays. "Raha, look at me."
He looks on, unwavering as his friend tentatively lifts his gaze from a chosen spot on his bedroll to look at him once more. Y'sato smiles at him warmly, encouragingly. "Why should I care you got two Allagan eyes now? You know me. I liked you already when you only had one remember? I meant those words then, and I mean them even more now. They are beautiful. You are beautiful."
The words come out before he can stop them, unchecked, and from the widening of G'raha's eyes, and the tint of red spreading across his cheeks he didn't expect to hear such words again and spoken so freely. Not coming from him. Still, Y'sato stays firm, holding on to his already fraying courage. Doing nothing to hide his reverence, he traces one of G'raha's arrow markings with a fingertip.
"That's my honesty. The color red, it really suits you, and..." He falters, retreating his hand in case he has overstepped his bounds. He draws a breath, tail flicking unseen under the fur blanket cocooned in the towel as it still is. He wants to say the words...Wants so badly to ask, but, his fleeting courage finally slips past his fingers, elusive like threads floating on the wind.
"Red is my favorite color." He says at last, lamely, but no less genuine as he peeks back up at him shyly. The irony isn't lost on him. He is the Warrior of Light, slayer of Primals, Ultima's Bane. One would think him strong, undaunted, and yet his courage flees in the face of the one he cares for the most, unable to even confess his feelings. His tail does another flick, this time giving a light thud into the bedroll.
G'raha laughs, a light-hearted and free thing. He leans forward and nuzzles his face into Y'sato's shoulder, and Y'sato embraces him to the best of his ability still leaning on his elbow as he is. Hugs from him are always welcome, something G'raha has become more and more comfortable doing with him for the last month... Often seeking it out in the privacy of their own tent, and lately also around the campfire after nightfall. Y'sato relishes his affection as always, and gods when G'raha pulls back to look at him, his eyes are nearly aglow. Such pure joy and sincerity gleams in them. That coy curve of G'raha's full lips, he would know it everywhere.
Y'sato can't help but return it with a sincere look of his own, wide smile broadening his features.
G'raha's smile widens, a mischievous glint in his eye. "My friend, am I inclined to believe it's the color of my eyes that makes my company worthwhile?"
"Raha, really. Stop it." He moves to bat at his ear, something G'raha evades with another chuckle. He knows his friend says such self-deprecating things only in jest, but he won't have it. Not tonight. "You know you are worth more than that." So much more...
"Am I now?"
Y'sato shoots him a pointed look, and under it, G'raha yields, but his wry smile remains. "Truly you are a man of questionable discernment, but I would want it no different."
"You going to add that assessment to your expedition logs?"
"No," A wistful shine comes over vibrant red eyes, a look that makes Y'sato's heart skip a beat. "I write only of the Warrior and his deeds. The man I have come to know over the past moons is far more valiant than any words on a page could ever rightly convey. He is dear to me, and my thoughts of him are unwelcome to wandering eyes."
One of Y'sato's ears twitches. He works up to nerve to say. "How about me? Am I welcome to hear them?"
Silence.
The air grows thin between them as he feels G'raha's eyes search his, studying him. Y'sato tries not to squirm, a tight ache constricting his chest. They are so close, and yet these moments of almost threatens to wound him more than any Primal. The words he wants so badly to speak are right there, lodged in his throat, but they refuse to break free.
The corners of G'raha's mouth lift into a faint smile. "Perhaps...But for another time." He shifts, raising himself up from his elbow. The blanket slides off his shoulder as his tired body gives a crack, him shaking life back into weary bones as he gives a long stretch that has his tail quiver once he is on his feet.
"In truth, I was thinking about heading outside for some fresh air." He says, turning back to Y'sato. There is something in his gaze Y'sato can't quite discern. A heaviness, a weight that could can only result from him having inherited the memories of ancient Allag. It's so unlike him, the sight of it has his stomach twist into knots.
His worry for him, it's back.
"You are welcome to join me, but I understand if you rather want to resume your rest."
"I'll join you." Y'sato doesn't hesitate, already pushing himself up. He only stills when he catches G'raha's eyes, still filled with that weight, a deep-rooted hesitance that has Y'sato's stomach still twist with worry. He hastily adds. "If you don't mind my company of course."
He doesn't want to force his company on his friend, but he knows to some capacity how it feels like to witness memories not your own thanks to his Echo. If he can do anything to comfort him, anything at all to lift his burden he will be there for him, if only to offer words or lend a listening ear. Besides after spending a summer basking in the glow of the Crystal Tower has made him so used to falling asleep with him at his side that is it difficult to do so alone. Especially now, knowing how troubled he is by the newfound inherited knowledge his new blood unlocked.
G'raha opens his mouth as if to speak, but no sound comes out, him quickly closing it. One of the corners of his mouth twists, dimpling his cheek as his eyes narrow. His russet ears are held uncannily still, the tip of his tail twitching faintly, clearly giving his all to keep how he truly feels from showing. The lack of the expected expressiveness he has come to know from him is something Y'sato has never seen from him before and it does nothing to calm his growing worry. Something is off with his friend this night. Wrong.
"Raha?" He says at last, his voice uncertain, barely above a whisper.
A russet ear twitches to the sound of his name and G'raha finally looks up at him as if snapping out from deep thought. He offers Y'sato a bright smile, tail swishing. "Not it if it's you."
The sincerity shining in his eyes helps dispel some of Y'sato's earlier misgivings. In fact, his smile proves so infectious Y'sato can't help but grin in return, showing his fangs and all.
"Just give me a moment to prepare."
He hears G'raha hum a note in agreement as he reaches out to comb his fingers through Y'sato's hair. His hand settles on one of his ears, gently pushing it back as he pets the soft silken fur with slightly calloused fingertips. Y'sato's eyelids flutter shut in response as he hums in contentment, tipping his head slightly back with the motion. "Mn you should stop doing that lest you want me to fall asleep."
"My apologies if you do, but how can I resist? The fur on your ears is so soft."
"...So are yours."
Y'sato is too focused on how good the gentle touch running along the length of his ear is to notice the faint blush creeping into G'raha's cheeks.
"Well. I will take your word for it. Your touch last night, it told me enough. You couldn't keep your hands off me."
A chuckle escapes Y'sato in a huff. "Like you are one to talk. You enjoyed it so much you fell asleep on me, and best thing is...I actually really enjoyed it." He manages to say even when he feels a prickly warmth wash over his skin, warming his face. He opens his eyes just in time to see the tell tale red in G'raha's cheeks mirroring his own
"I um- I was exhausted after all my research and your touch, your fingers scratched an itch I did not know I had." G'raha's tail flicks, flustered ,and in a bid to change the subject matter he reaches out for Y'sato's hairbrush. "I can brush your hair if you like?"
Y'sato hums a note of consideration, blinking owlishly. "Mmn it does sound tempting but if you brush it now I will surely fall asleep right where I sit."
"Mayhaps not a bad proposition. You truly look like you need some rest."
"I'll be fine once I start moving and get some fresh air in me. Hand me the brush."
G'raha obediently hands it over, to Y'sato's slight surprise. He half expected him to play some of his tricks on him or tease him as he usually does, but instead he gives his ear one last lingering stroke of his fingertips with a faint smile before walking over to his side of the tent to busy himself with his gear. Y'sato keeps his eyes on him as he carefully starts to brush his unruly mop for all the good it will do. He knows his hair will be a mess again sooner or later anyway. His blond strands ever seems to have a life on their own.
His eyes still on his friend he starts to wonder if he should have allowed his friend to brush his hair after all. Is not that he doesn't want G'raha to do so. He has allowed it once before, and even brushed and braided G'raha's soft neatly bound hair in turn. A thought that still fills his heart with such warmth. Never before had anyone been comfortable enough with him to allow him to do something so domestic and intimate.
Still, the way he acts has something within him on edge today, how his movements are more hesitant and stilted. The weight in his gaze, his smiles. His friend is hiding something he can tell. Something that bothers him immensely, straining to keep it out of reach, simmering just below the surface. Y'sato knows he needs to be awake for the moment it will finally rear its head. After everything he knows when his friend needs him. He just needs to wait for the right moment. It won't do to press him after all he well knows. No G'raha, he will need to come to him himself. For now all he can do is to be patient, as hard it feels on his constricted heart.
Folding back one of his ears to comb behind it he watches as G'raha busies himself with pulling on one of his warwolf boots. The mundane struggle always amuses him, how he somehow manages to work his short limbs into the knee-high leather gear.
"As for where to go I thought we might go down to our spot by the Lake," G'raha suggests as he smooths out the fur lining bunched up behind his knee."We have been blessed with clear skies and a warm breeze. It feels like a shame to waste it being cooped up inside."
The pleasant thought makes Y'sato's ears wiggle in joy. He uncoils his tail from the towel he had cocooned it with and starts to gently brush the long fur around the tip. "I think I'll wait until the morrow to swim, if it is alright with you. After everything that transpired today I don't know if I have it in me."
Occupied as he is he doesn't see it, the way G'raha's mouth twitches, or the unsure swish of his tail. Y'sato looks to him in time to see him consider one of his hefty gloves before setting them aside by his aetherometer and gorget, unnecessary for a quiet night under the stars with a friend. The sight is novel for Y'sato. He has seen him in nothing but the black moonfire trunks he bought at Rowena's, it still draped over a storage chest in the corner of the tent to dry from a swim they shared earlier, and yet he looks more bare like this. A man at ease where he belongs at a trusted friend's side. His home.
Our home.
The thought is a tentative one, fragile. It's been so long since he had somewhere to call home, a place where he can truly feel at peace, to call his. He was cast out of that home years ago. Ever since he resigned himself to the fact he would never find that sense of security again, but in the presence of his friend he dares to hope. Hope that he has found it at last.
"I am much too weary myself to even entertain the thought. I simply want to spend the night with you. To gaze at the stars." G'raha says as he looks over his boots one last time. Patting his hands on his thighs once with enthusiasm he rises to his feet. "Shall we, then?"
Y'sato doesn't need more incentive. Tossing his hairbrush aside he wiggles his feet eagerly into a pair of simple soft leather shoes. The cropped cotton pants he's still wearing and his shirt should do he thinks. Still he didn't need to stay in Mor Dhona long for its lakechill to make itself known, piercing through him like the gaze of the man before him with his brilliant eyes. He digs into his dresser, pulling out a simple black Ala Mhigan gown. He pulls it on, and never going anywhere without his daggers he loops and fastens the belt back around his hips, his daggers still attached to it.
"Are you quite ready yet?" G'raha teases as he holds open the flap to their tent expectantly, amusement glinting in his eyes.
"I am now. So impatient." Y'sato says as he scurries behind him, ducking in his wake as his friend lets the tent flap go. The animated curve of his russet tail brushes up and glides against Y'sato's leg. Unable to resist the downy feel of the soft fur Y'sato loosely grabs a hold of it. His loose grip encircles it as his hand slides down to its puffy tip as G'raha takes his first steps into the moonlight.
His friend is right. This is indeed too beautiful a night to spend it inside, dreaming it away. Stars, a myriad of twinkling lights greets them, twinkling like diamonds on the inky veil, their ethereal glow only giving way to the soft halo of the shining Crystal Tower in the distance.
Aside from their celestial lights, the crackling fire of the fireplace illuminates the unfortunate lone hired hand doing guard duty, and not much else. No Cid, Biggs, or Wedge sitting around the fireplace, everyone seemingly having retired to their tents for the day. The lone guard startles at their sudden footsteps, only to relax with an "Oh it is just you two."
Despite his tiredness, Y'sato mutes his steps, ingrained in him from his training as a Shinobi. He motions to G'raha to be quiet as he pulls him by his vest, not really wanting to disturb anyone, asleep in their tents as they are.
While Cid and the other members of their expedition weren't the ones doing all the fighting, Y'sato knows well they contributed in myriad other ways. Besides they don't need to know of their little nightly excursion. He hasn't exactly kept it a secret, of how close he and G'raha have grown over the summer. There never was a need to keep something like that hidden in the shadows, yet sometimes it feels good to do something like this. To do something with his friend with the moon and the stars as their only witnesses. Well aside from the lone guard that is. Y'sato stops by the hired guard to pass on some words of reassurance, just in case anything should go awry.
"Me and G'raha will be down by the lakeside. I have my linkpearl on me, so if anything happens don't be afraid to call on me." He lifts his hand to his ear, channeling just enough aether to generate a slight din as proof.
"I appreciate you telling me. As it stands I have matters here well in hand." The guard says, a young hyuran woman brown of hair and blue of eye with a bow and quiver filled with arrows fastened to her back. She looks relieved despite her circumstances. Y'sato simply just nods to her with a smile before turning to G'raha.
Only to find him not looking at him, but at the shimmering starry veil above. His eyes shine with distant thought like he hopes the answers to his hopes can be found amongst their number, elusive yet tangible, illuminated but unreachable.
Y'sato can but look on, entranced. He looks stunning in their muted glow. How the soft shadows of the cloudless night plays across his face, a face Y'sato knows so well, the way the tiny little lights catch in ruby eyes, their depths holding galaxies and mysteries all of their own, and to him they hold the answer to what he has realised he has been searching for all along.
A place to call home. Someone to call his.
In this moment he hopes, he hopes so dearly G'raha is the one.
G'raha's eyes shifts to look back at his, and Y'sato's heart lurches in his chest. Did-did he just catch me staring?
He is quick to avert his gaze, a faint sheepish smile ghosting over his lips, thanking his lucky stars the soft diffuse shadows of the night hides the telltale warmth he can feel creep into his cheeks.
His tail flicking nervously he feels a warm hand come to rest on his bicep, squeezing him slightly. "Wait here. I will see if your chocobo might be persuaded to join us."
Y'sato looks up at him just in time to see his smile, it holding no questions, only the quiet contentment he finds being in his company. Y'sato is too tired and distracted to even form a coherent reply, so he simply nods.
The scratch of G'raha's boots is the only thing filling the silence as he quickly walks in the direction of the chocobo stable. These sounds filling this silence...is a blessing Y'sato thinks. If he closes his eyes just long enough he can still hear them, the shrieks and wails of voidsent, feel the cold shadowy tendrils slither across his skin, seeking to corrupt anything it touches. Its touch a vile thing. A permeating, oppressive, living darkness. The very memory of it has Y'sato shudder, every hair standing on end. Despite himself his tail curls a little tighter around his leg, the soft fur all fluffed up.
Here standing a world away he finds it hard to believe he even stepped his foot within that doomed hellscape of a world, but he did. The array of mottling bruises covering his body is proof enough. The oppressive darkness of the void, it still has his skin crawl just thinking about it, chilling him to his core.
The warm summer breeze tousles his hair, his ears, a piece of firewood from the fireplace splitting in two from somewhere behind him helps ground him in the here and now, willing the dark chill permeating into his very being from that world away from his bones.
I did it. We did it, Raha. The gate is sealed and you found the answer you were looking for...
The scrape of taloned feet smacking into the dirt turns one of his ears, jostling him out of his thoughts. He follows its lead only to spot his chocobo with not just a little excitement coming trotting up to his side. His chocobo seems delighted to be freed from his pen, even more so to be able to stretch his legs without any cumbersome battle barding, judging by the energetic bounce in his steps. With a happy kweh, his chocobo comes to a stop before him, flapping his wings excitedly before affectionately nudging against Y'sato's head with his beak.
"Raphael." Y'sato says with a chuckle as he flicks and pins back one of his ears out of the bird's way just in time as his loyal steed starts to preen his hair. His bird has ever been very fond of him and that hasn't changed one bit over the summer. He reaches out for the mighty bird's neck, ruffling the white, downy feathers.
"Someone is happy to see you. So happy in fact I could scarcely think about climbing onto his back before he took off." G'raha says with a chuckle of his own as he finally catches up with the bird, hardly out of breath. Looking to him Y'sato notices he is like a shock of red amidst a sea of earthen blue, and he smiles as their eyes meet, filled with mirth.
Beautiful...
His eyes, that startling vibrant ruby is something Y'sato has already started to get used to he thinks. The warmth of G'raha's laugh sets his heart aglow, filling it with warm hearth fire. A feeling, of home.
"I suppose that is true for the both of you? Both so eager. Both so affectionate." Y'sato does nothing to hide the sly smirk growing in the corner of his mouth as he looks to his friend, still having to keep his ears pinned back lest he wants them to fall victim to the bird's sharp beak. The meaning of his words isn't lost on his friend. The expression on G'raha's face is equally exasperated as it is affectionate.
"Whichever answer I choose to give would be the truth. We are kindred spirits, him and I." G'raha places a hand on the bird's mighty flank, a knowing look in his eyes. "Besides animals are easier to understand than people."
There is a deep truth to his statement, one that Y'sato shares. Years of loneliness and neglect led him to seek out animals more often than his fellow tribe members, and in this, both of them share with confidence. In this moment, nothing needs to be said. This connection he feels, this bond he feels with this man is unlike anything he has ever felt. He will give anything to keep him at his side, to journey with him across the lands. If only he can summon the courage to ask...
Feeling heat rise up in his cheeks again, Y'sato distracts himself with petting his chocobo's side, at the spot behind his wing he knows his loyal steed can't quite reach when he has an itch. His chocobo warbles affectionately in response, at last leaving his hair be. "You ever thought about getting a chocobo of your own?"
His question takes G'raha by surprise he can tell judging from the widening of his eyes, the contented slow sway of his tail stuttering. He takes a moment to compose himself, a look of longing in his eyes as he looks at the chocobo. "Truthfully I have, but being a Student of Baldesion and an Archon besides, my studies did not give me much time for such diversions or a particular need for that matter. In Sharlayan hardly anyone got enough time to think about chocobos or animals for that matter, unless you study them from a strict studious viewpoint. Furthermore, unless you are a gleaner or work in Labyrinthos you hardly get to interact much with animals at all..."
Y'sato's ear quirks with interest. "Gleaner? Labyrinthos?" He has heard G'raha talk about Sharlayan before, but this is the first time he has heard these terms. The more he hears about Sharlayan however the more...cold it sounds. Secluded. Detached.
"Ah forgive me. I'm so used to people being used to those terms where I am from." G'raha's tail flicks in thought behind him. "How about I enlighten you more about the matter down by the lake? Also while I do not have a chocobo of my own I still find it proper to share this little trade secret of mine."
Y'sato watches, now even more intrigued as G'raha reaches into his pocket and pulls forth a plant, a slightly rotund orange thing looking like a carrot, but from the shape and the distinct scent having his chocobo kweh excitedly beside him Y'sato knows it is no carrot.
His tail flicks and he looks up at him, incredulous. "A krakka root? So that's how he grew fond of you so quickly. You spoil him when I'm not looking!"
G'raha gives him a non-committal shrug. "Perhaps." His mischievous grin cuts through the last of Y'sato's fraying resolve and he steps closer. For a moment G'raha is the eccentric young man he met at the start of the summer, who played mystery games with him chasing the aethersand before they even properly met and introduced themselves. When he feeds the chocobo the krakka root and turns back to look at him with those knowing eyes he is a man in his rightful place. An Archon that didn't hesitate to reach out for him where others did not, to uncover the man beneath where others didn't dare, or think to look. A historian that dared to look deeper, that would leave no page unturned.
Y'sato allows him to mount his chocobo first and as G'raha now sitting comfortably in the saddle reaches out for him there is no doubt in his mind. G'raha is his if he wants him. Everything he can offer and more he will give. He only needs but ask. He accepts his hand without hesitation, and as he slips his foot in the stirrup the sheer intensity of his matching crimson gaze as he pulls him up thrills Y'sato so swiftly he can almost swear his friend can feel him shiver as he settles into the saddle behind him.
No. He's more than just an Archon. Those eyes. Those are the eyes of a newly crowned prince of Allag.
While G'raha busies himself making himself more comfortable in the saddle, Y'sato lets his aching, tired body lean against his back, wrapping his arms around his middle. He summons the courage to do something he didn't dare do until last night. He softly presses his lips into his hair, an affectionate thing in between G'raha's ears. His friend's response is a poorly hidden pleased intake of breath and he pushes back into it with a happy hum. Y'sato nuzzles into one of his ears, it bending under his cheek. The silken fur feels so soft against his skin he can't help but press his lips into it, ever so fondly. G'raha's laugh is an infectious thing, his hand seeking out one of Y'sato's where he holds him around the waist and Y'sato meets the touch eagerly.
It spurs him to do something else he never does. He prays.
To Azeyma, to Hydealyn, anyone who will listen to a misguided hero such as he, he prays. He has been neglected for too long to be a man of faith, the broken path life has dragged him through leaving him bereft of any such lofty notions. No one reached out for him when he needed it the most. No one stood up for him or gave him the light of day when he was at his lowest. No one rose up to stay his hand when he blinded by rage lashed out against one of his harassers...
He can only hope all of his selfless deeds have piled up, to form enough absolution from his sins. At the very least he is desperate enough to try.
Please, let me have this. I have nothing to call my own, but him, he makes me feel less broken. Whole. Please.
His chest tightens, lungs squeezing from feeling too much, and yet too little. The familiar ache only ebbs when G'raha strokes his knuckles with his thumb. "Sato? Is everything alright?"
He feels G'raha turn his head to look at him over his shoulder, and he realizes he has clung to him more firmly. He immediately loosens his grip. "Yes. I'm just tired."
"You sure you feel up for this?" The hesitance in G'raha's voice isn't lost on him. He nuzzles into his ear again in reply breathing out a contented 'yes'
The chocobo flaps, impatient wings beating the air. G'raha is quick to tug on the reins to steady the beast. "Someone is growing impatient. By your leave?" There is a playful lilt to his voice, soft but certain. With a knowing smile, Y'sato draws back from his ear. His tail flicks once, twice. Steadying his hold around G'raha he gives two sharp clicks with his tongue.
The reaction from his mount is immediate. He sets off at a sharp trot, nearly startling G'raha out of the saddle. Y'sato can't help but burst into laughter as he watches him scramble to right himself, but he holds on to his friend reassuringly, his arm steadying around his waist. Used to this as he is, Y'sato holds on to his own seat with his battle-hardened thighs. Narrowed red eyes look back at him only to meet a toothy grin.
"What?" Y'sato says, unruffled. "You told me to give the command."
A russet ear flicks in thought. "Yes. I suppose I may have underestimated your chocobo's enthusiasm a tad."
Y'sato hums. "You call this speed? This is nothing." With a loud whistle and smacking his heel to the bird's mighty flank he spurs his steed into a full-on sprint. Kicking up a spray of dirt and crystal dust the bird happily runs with reckless abandon. The startled cry from G'raha is probably loud enough to wake up everyone in the camp they leave in their glittering wake, but he doesn't care. In this moment all he cares about is the feel of him against his chest and the sound of his unbridled laughter joining with G'raha's.
He lets the chocobo have his fun, talons smacking and scraping against dirt and crystal alike. He dares himself to hug G'raha closer, burrowing his grin in the swell of his shoulder. The feel of him, of the wind rushing through his hair, every thud from his chocobo's feet striking the ground in time with his erratic heartbeat. This is what it means to feel alive!
Unforgiving battlefield and crystal soon give way to sand as G'raha steers the chocobo down towards the lake. The chocobo gives a warbled squawk as he pulls on the reins, bringing them to a stop. He murmurs soothing reassurances as he reaches out to pet its neck. Looking over the ridge of his vest, Y'sato can see their usual haven lays undisturbed, the remains of a fireplace they set up just the day prior being pretty much as they left it, fire long doused with not a billow of smoke to be seen. The lake lays still before them, reflecting the swirling heavens above.
G'raha is the first to dismount, swinging his leg over the side of the saddle and hopping down from the stirrup as if he was born for it. A scholar he is, but his heart will ever long for adventure. It is plain in the way he holds himself, keen gaze ever looking for opportunities. Y'sato but hopes he will realize this and embark on the path he truly longs for.
Once more he offers Y'sato his hand, and Y'sato accepts, his historian turned gentleman only for his eyes. He relishes the soft press of their palms, the joy such a simple touch offers. The sand lessens the jolt of his soles as he lands on his feet, only to find G'raha's hand leave his to run through his hair, trying valiantly to right wayward strands back to their rightful place.
"Don't bother. My hair lives its own life. Before long it will be all messy again."
"I am not so sure," G'raha says, smoothing out a lock that is insistent on falling in front of Y'sato's left eye. The focus he shows is unfairly endearing. "With the right attention any wayward strand can be brought to heel."
Y'sato laughs at that. "Then you haven't met my hair. Truly though. Leave it. It's fine."
"If you say so." G'raha smiles at him apologetically, giving his hair a last pat. The gesture is so affectionate Y'sato can't help but subtly lean into it. "Wait here. I will see if I can find more kindling. I think we used most of it last time."
Once more he feels G'raha's hand linger on his bicep before it trails off. His eyes narrow the slightest bit, the corners of his mouth lifting into something Y'sato can't quite read. He is left standing there, G'raha's strides muted in the sands. The ghost of his touch, Y'sato feels it still on his skin and he wonders what all of this means.
No. Don't overthink it. He has touched me this way before. It is simply affection. Nothing more.
In a bid to distract himself, he looks to his chocobo. He whistles to get his full attention. Brown beady eyes are on his without question, his loyal steed all but placing his feathered cheek in his hand as he reaches out to pet him with a warble. "Who's a good boy." He murmurs as he removes the bit from his beak, making his steed as comfortable as he can be, scratching the soft feathers under his fingertips. "Once this expedition is over I will treat you to some special greens. What do you say about that?"
By the happy kweh and excited flapping of his wings to judge, he seems very much enthused with the idea. Y'sato laughs, pressing his forehead to his beak, trusting. "I knew you would approve."
With a final scratch of white downy feathers, he steps back. "Now stay out of trouble you hear?" Clicking his tongue he lightly smacks the bird on his thigh. With a kweh, his mount scampers off. Y'sato knows he will be just fine. As mellow as he is around him and G'raha, Y'sato knows his bird to pack a punch. He has after all trained him a bit in the arts himself past what his grand company training conditioned him to. Those kicks, he surely doesn't envy any cobra or hippogryph daring to step into his chocobo's path in this terrain. Furthermore, he knows his steadfast steed will be there at his side whenever he needs him. Ever just a whistle away.
His gaze wanders to find G'raha, him standing by a tree snapping off dying withered branches. The flora of of Mor Dhona, well Y'sato won't call himself an expert on plant life, but the few trees to be found in this landscape are as lost a cause as he has ever seen, but at least it makes for great firewood. Watching him work Y'sato busies himself tossing his daggers into the air, skilfully catching them by their hilt before absent-mindedly slicing the thin blades through the air like he would slice up an enemy, his footwork moving on point to match. He spins them with grace in calloused, practiced fingers before pointing them back assuming a flashy pose to show off. G'raha left his bow behind in the camp he has noticed. A novelty of his that doesn't sit right with him. Especially so knowing this is Mor Dhona. Not the most friendliest of locales in Erozea, and the longer he looks at his friend the more worried he becomes.
Never before has he seen him so distracted. So consumed by whatever memories Allag has unearthed within his mind.
It has Y'sato keep a closer eye on him than usual. He knows his friend can fend for himself for the most part, but unarmed and distracted as he currently is...
Mercy be on those who would will his dearest friend harm. The broken, charred husk of a morbol he left behind in the Tangle weeks back is testament enough to that very fact.
It all happened so quick. The slithering terror is already upon them, scarcely giving him time to push G'raha aside as he dodges a trashing tentacle. The abrupt unexpected nature of it all makes him slip on the muddy ground, almost losing hold of his daggers as he loses his balance dropping to his knee. The morbol towers over him. His raiton, he knows he hit it, can see its rancid flesh smoking, but under its rotting overwhelming smell, it is hard to focus on aught else. It's dizzying, burning in his nose and what makes his situation worse is the tentacled monstrosity before him seems completely unaffected no matter how much he tries to slice it up. Terror, icy and cold grips him.
He isn't strong enough. Flee, they need to flee!
"Sato!"
Y'sato looks up at the desperate cry of his voice just in time to see green sickly gas gathering in its wide rotting maw in his direction and he immediately knows what that means. Its range is too vast! It's too late. He's going to get hit! Instinctively he flinches, squeezing his eyes shut.
G'raha runs within range and strikes the morbol with a barrage of arrows. With a piercing screech, it moves towards his companion with uncanny speed, vile poison dripping from its jagged teeth. Desperate in killing it before it can attack, Y'sato leaps to action, stabbing his daggers deep into the sodden putrid flesh in its back, feeling thick green goo spill over his hands.
Please, please, please kill it. Kill it!
But his pleas fall on deaf ears. He can only watch, helpless as its vile breath spills forth, engulfing his friend.
He doesn't think, the raw scream alien to his own ears as it rips itself free from his throat.
"Raha!"
A sharp exhale escaping him Y'sato squeezes his eyes shut from the memory, his pulse an erratic thing in his veins. Never again does he want to see G'raha come under such harm. He had almost-
"Forgive me the delay. I think we have enough to last us a while."
Realizing his tail is lashing in an agitated manner, Y'sato reins in his emotions. Schooling his expression into one resembling composure he sheathes his daggers, greeting G'raha with an amicable smile. He is here with him now, unharmed, alive. It is all that truly matters.
He saved him.
This is not the time to brood over what almost happened.
He joins G'raha by the makeshift firepit. His friend is already busying himself placing the twigs neatly around the logs already in the pit. Watching him work Y'sato plops himself onto the sand, not caring if his white cotton pants get a bit dirty as a result. He stretches out his legs, flicking sand from his shoes as he removes them with reckless abandon, not noticing as a few grains hit G'raha's cheek.
Until he feels a downy tail smack him lightly on the side of his arm. Turning he finds narrowed red exasperated eyes on him. "You almost got sand in my eye. If you hate getting sand in your shoes so much I would suggest using different footwear."
"Sorry," Is all Y'sato can say, a slight sheepish smile on his face as he looks away. "But in my defense I wear tight leather boots enough as it is. My feet need a break sometimes."
He doesn't miss the grin splitting the mischievous smirk on G'raha's face. "I hear archer boots are very comfortable." He strikes flint with steel to scatter sparks, but the laugh in his voice doesn't go unnoticed.
One of Y'sato's ears twitches. "You wound me." He says in jest, placing a hand on his chest. "I will have you know I'm a great knife thrower, not to mention with my shuriken. I bet my skills could make even you run for your gil."
"I know, my friend. I know. I would not dare try best you when it comes to knife throwing." The laugh is still in his voice as he scatters more sparks. A few catches on the kindling and bending down holding aside his hair, G'raha blows on the cinders, spreading the flames until they burn full and bright.
The way their orange light catches in his ruby eyes makes them shine even more. Like hearth fire. In them, he sees his future, a home. Y'sato's tail flicks in thought. His eyes lights up as he shares his suggestion to his friend.
"I know. Let's make a day out of it tomorrow. Just you and me. We can swim as usual, and after let's make a contest out of it. First with my knives, then with your bow. I can lend you a couple of my knives if you like."
"That sounds nice."
G'raha's reply comes with less enthusiasm than what Y'sato has grown to expect from him. His friend, he tries to smile, but it falls short, not reaching his eyes. Even his proud russet ears droops slightly, and his eyes, there is a shimmer glinting in them, one his friend quickly blinks away, not looking up from the fire.
The sudden shift in his demeanor has worry kick back to life in Y'sato's chest.
"What's wrong?"
He more sees his sigh than hears it, and G'raha finally tears his eyes from the fire to meet his. The weight in his gaze from before is back. A look more serious than Y'sato has ever seen from him, and it has his heart lurch in his chest. Whatever thoughts are on his mind they carry enough vehemence to pinch his brow. The look of it, the intensity in his gaze. It stirs Y'sato's worry, and he reaches out. G'raha, he did the same for him, following the morbol attack.
"Raha?" He scratches him behind one of his ears. Usually, this simple gesture helps soothe him, but this night it only makes it worse. He draws a thin breath, as though Y'sato's touch stung him, but he doesn't shy away, and that alone quells the hot flood of panic threatening to spill forth, keeps the unbidden tears from welling up behind his eyes.
Y'sato searches his face, the vibrant red eyes set even more aglow in the firelight. They stare at him with such intensity Y'sato finds himself unable to look away, entranced. It is clear from the reddening of the corners of his eyes he isn't fully rested, but the way he looks at him with such haunting clarity...
"Speak to me." His plea comes out in a broken whisper, only answered by the shifting sands of G'raha sliding closer to him. His head comes to rest in the nook of his shoulder, his face burrowing into his neck as if to hide. Y'sato feels it, the shuddering breath escaping him fanning over his skin. G'raha's ears they droop more now, and he trembles, clearly struggling with whatever has brought this well of emotion forth.
"Hey it's alright," Y'sato soothes, bringing his arms around him in a tight embrace. Like before he will be there for him. Always. G'raha, again he sought him out in need of comfort and in this he will deliver, wholeheartedly.
He hears, feels another shuddering breath. This one hitching in his throat. He feels G'raha's arms circle him, clutching at his gown at his back with trembling fingers. His tail lashes behind him, once, twice, then sweeps across the sand, back and forth, not stilling. Y'sato doesn't press him, just sits there holding him, fingers caressing his hair ever so gently. He knows better than most how silence sometimes offers the best comfort. How someone's presence and a listening ear can be enough. Still he gives him a reminder, his voice soft next to G'raha's ear. "I'm here if you want to talk."
There is a sharp inhale, G'raha pressing his face further into Y'sato's neck.
"'Tis nothing. Nothing of import. This day has been more trying than most. That's all." G'raha's voice is thick when he manages to find his voice, and Y'sato feels it, a wetness on his skin, clearly coming from tears. It has a lump form in his throat. His friend, he is trying so hard to keep himself together for his sake.
Oh, Raha...
He clings to him closer, hoping his presence and caring touch is enough. So far it has been enough, offering his friend much-needed comfort, but the way he looked at him...
Now he isn't so sure, but he knows this. Whatever bothers his friend so is grave enough to have his usual happy self break down like this.
Y'sato's eyes narrow. Just what have the memories of his ancestors revealed to him?
"You know you can tell me everything. Anything that bothers you. I'll listen."
"I know, my friend. Tis just. Is not a simple matter. Just...I need a moment."
Y'sato understands. Oh, how he understands. More than he cares to admit. If the memories G'raha has seen are anything like those he has seen with his Echo...
His heart squeezes painfully in his chest. Yes he knows, he can already start to imagine. If just the gist of it, the weight of it all...
He lets out a breath, closing his eyes. "...I know how overwhelming it can be, to be flooded with memories not your own. Happens to me often enough through the Echo. The things I have seen..." Flashbacks of the assault on the Waking Sands many moons prior come unbidden to his mind's eye, crystal clear. How Livia had so coldly gunned down and slaughtered the Scions stationed there, not sparing even poor unarmed Noraxia...
There is a look of steely resolve in his eyes as he opens them, teeth clenched. Even now that incident, the memories, they hurt, a raw sting in his heart, but he chooses to stand above it. "So believe me when I say the weight of such memories take their toll. The weight you now carry, I know it. At least in part, so if you need to talk, need to share the burden, I'm here. I will always be here."
He nuzzles into his hair, his lips passing over the silken fur of his closest ear as he awaits his reply. Or silence. He doesn't mind either way. He just wants to console his friend. He hates to see him hurting like this. G'raha says nothing, just huddles closer, trembling, his breaths coming out stilted and hitched, but he makes no sound. Y'sato can tell from the wetness on his skin his friend is still weeping, fighting to regain his composure.
The moon traces its path in the sky, time marching ever onward, indifferent to any mortal struggles it leaves in its wake. Sooner or later , Y'sato knows their time together will end. At least like this, and he wishes so this could last forever. The expedition will end, G'raha will seal the tower standing at his side and, then most likely he will be ordered to return to Sharlayan and he himself will return to the road, to the Scions, to help them aid the realm with any political issues following the Calamity as is their wont. Frankly, he is already sick of it, but they have no one else to turn to and Alphinaud and Minfillia have so much faith in him and...
He can't let them down. Even less the man he currently holds in his arms.
So Y'sato does the only thing he can think of to try to lighten the mood, to distract himself. While still caressing G'raha's hair, holding him close he talks about everything and nothing, the stars above and what might lie beyond, of dreams he has for the future, any carefree nonsense that comes to mind. It bothers him to see his friend still so distraught like this, and it again brings to the surface a question that claws at the edges of Y'sato's mind.
What will G'raha do once his destiny has been fulfilled?
His attempts at offering comfort, they help he can tell from the way G'raha's trembling slowly ceases alongside the restless flicking of his tail. He draws a shuddering breath before at last pulling away. He is quick to duck his head to discreetly wipe a hand at his eyes, although Y'sato knows he's been weeping, but he doesn't point it out or say anything. He simply smiles, eyes filled with understanding as he keeps a hand on G'raha's back, steadying.
"You feeling better?"
"Yes." His voice still comes out a little rough and he doesn't look up to meet his eyes, but he is more collected. "Forgive me. I did not intend to burden you with such an unbecoming display."
"There is nothing to forgive. It's been a long day and we both are tired." It is the truth he knows. He himself feels exhausted enough to sleep for days. Something he makes a point of showing by flopping onto his back onto the glittering sand. A yawn overtakes him, big enough to have his ears swivel before returning to their usual relaxed position. There is a burning tired sensation in his eyes, but for now he ignores it. There will be time enough for sleep later.
A long moment passes between them with only the crackling of the fire to be heard. G'raha is still not looking up from a chosen spot on the ground before him, neither joining him by lying down at his side, but Y'sato doesn't press him. Instead he directs his attention to the stars above, tracking the constellations. One blond ear flicks in G'raha's direction as he shifts a little, his tail beating out a silent beat, the downy tip brushing against Y'sato's hip for every restless rise and fall. Y'sato is tempted to reach out and grab onto it, but he refrains. This is not the time for such a playful gesture. At least not yet.
"I have been meaning to ask. What will you do after the expedition?"
The question has Y'sato's breath catch, his pulse quickening as surprise chases away his sensible calm. G'raha still doesn't look at him, but Y'sato can see it in the tense set of his ears. The uncertainty he carries.
"To be honest, I don't know." He says lamely, struggling to make heads or tails of his thoughts now scattered to the winds. "I would like to rest a while, but adventure has the knack of finding me whether I want it to or not. I'm never in the same place for long."
He tries to sound indifferent, positive even, but ends up sounding weary and broken, but it doesn't matter. G'raha has ever been more eloquent and quick on the uptake so if he reads his true emotions in his tone all the better. Will be less frustration that way for him to search for the the words he knows will never come.
There is a hum of acknowledgement and G'raha finally turns to look at him. The look in his eyes is more somber than Y'sato has ever seen on him. "No matter how exciting your adventures are when you say it like that it sounds...lonely in a way."
Y'sato shrugs half-heartedly, averting his gaze. G'raha speaks the truth, and...it stings, but is better to brush it aside, to pretend it doesn't hurt. "It is, but I've gotten used to it. Comes with the territory of being an outcast as you well know."
The russet tail still beating out its restless beat abruptly thumps the ground, tip whapping his leg. G'raha's voice rises alongside the agitated motion. "That still doesn't make it right!"
The sudden agitation and the intensity in those vibrant red eyes boring into his brings Y'sato to pause, his tail flicking, uncertain. This is a side of his friend he has only seen once, and not directed at him, and it leaves him looking at him puzzled for a moment, but he is quick to recover, offering him a reassuring smile. "It isn't, but I got the Scions. Don't worry. While they are oft off on missions there are moments I get to catch up, and I am quite close with Thancred and Y'shtola." He lets out a heavy sigh, turning his head to look at the vast starry expanse before him, to the Crystal Tower looming in the distance. "Still it isn't quite the same. These last three months have been a respite from all that. For once things settled down enough for me to be able to breathe for a change. Morbol attack and Void Gate opening notwithstanding." He chuckles a bit wryly at that, giving G'raha a knowing side glance.
At once it lightens up the mood and G'raha smiles at him, a fragile-looking thing but genuine.
The way the firelight gilds one side of his face, catching in one ruby eye, calm soft crystalline blue illuminating the rest of his face in diffuse shadows has Y'sato's heart flutter in his chest. In this moment he looks so beautiful, so transcendent under the ethereal lights, a shock of red amidst the blue and orange. He reaches out without thinking, gracing G'raha's soft cheek with calloused fingertips.
"I will miss this. I will miss you." His words are so faint, barely above a whisper, but he knows G'raha hears them, hears the unspoken hope he dares to set free from the shadows. Can see it by the way his ears perk up, sharp and at attention. Furthermore he ducks his head, his eyes obscured under the deep shadow of his fringe, but again he doesn't flinch away from his touch. Tension hangs thick in the air, like a taunt string on the verge of snapping. Y'sato can barely bear it. These moments of almost. They are so close and yet...
Did he at last cross the line between them he shouldn't? He swallows thickly upon the daunting prospect, his mouth suddenly feeling so dry. His outstretched hand starts trembling, and he is on the verge of pulling it back when he feels G'raha cover his hand with his own. Y'sato's eyes widen from the unexpected touch. His hand, his palm, is ever so warm...
G'raha presses his cheek into his palm. Y'sato would think the gesture would bring his friend comfort, but he is so tense. Y'sato can feel it from the way his fingers tighten around his, how his tail resumes beating its silent restless beat against his hip.
"Raha?" Y'sato tries, his voice soft, eyes filled with concern. He dares to gently rub G'raha's cheek with his thumb.
He draws a thin breath, not looking up. "If...if you ever should have need of a marksman...or a scholar's mind...I could go with you if you like."
Those words, it has Y'sato shoot up without thinking. Hand still held to G'raha's cheek, he looks to him with wide searching eyes, the suffocating surge of hope that swells within him the only thing churning within his frazzled mind.
G'raha finally looks back at him, unsure yet unyielding. There is something vulnerable in the crimson fire of his royal gaze, a fettered flame begging permission to burn.
In this moment, for the first time something is made crystal clear. A sudden hyper-awareness comes over him, of another soul. A soul carrying all the thoughts and wants and fears and worries similar to his, all swirling within that sharp mind he has yet to dive deeper into than just the surface. This soul that has held his heart, cradled it so gently. In fact, he still does. G'raha has from the moment they found a connection.
A true connection. Exactly when it was forged he can't pinpoint, but this spark. This warmth flooding from somewhere deep within, warming his heart. There can be no doubt.
So this is how it feels like...
It seems G'raha left as much unspoken as he, but he knows this. His friend feels the same. In this moment their hearts beat as one.
"You mean...you would travel with me?" Y'sato's voice is fragile. He makes no attempt to hide how he unravels, how his words leave him, clinging shy to his tongue.
"I wish for nothing more."
The sincerity in his voice, how it glints in those royal red eyes has a flood of relief burst within him. Before he can stop himself, it escapes him in a breathy, wonderous laugh. It brightens his features, stretching his mouth into an ecstatic grin. "Raha. Of course I want you to join me." He swallows thickly. "I mean. It is more than I could ever have hoped for."
G'raha's eyes widen, his own lips parting into a radiant smile. His joy is blinding. Never before has Y'sato seen something so beautiful. So pure "Really?" G'raha blinks in disbelief, struggling to keep his voice from quivering. "You would let me join you?"
"Of course." Y'sato says, eyes shining in the firelight. He removes G'raha's hand still holding his hand to his cheek and presses their palms together, bright joyful smile never leaving his face. Their palms are each calloused from bow and dagger in turn, yet soft enough to be comforting. Warm. This, all of this, it feels so right. He spreads his fingers, lacing them with G'raha's, something G'raha reciprocates without question, their fingers interlaced now in their rightful place. "Nothing would make me happier. Why are you surprised?"
"You never asked so I thought..." G'raha looks down, clearly feeling uncertain judging from the minute twitching of his ears and continued restless tapping of his tail. "Well, you are so used to being on your own. I did not want to impose."
"You could never. Truth is I wanted to ask you so badly, but...I was afraid of what you would say." Now it's Y'sato's turn to look down, his own ears flicking, feeling self-conscious. He lets go of G'raha's fingers to trace one of the Archon tattoos on the side of G'raha's neck. The stretch of painted skin is a perfect distraction for his frazzled nerves. Usually this lower part of his neck is covered up by his gorget, but now it's all laid bare for him. His skin, is so soft...
"I would have said yes of course." G'raha counters, his voice barely audible as it falls like a whisper to the sand, but as close as they sit next to each other Y'sato hangs on to every word. It doesn't escape his notice, the pleased little intake of breath escaping G'raha upon his feather-light touch, nor the shiver he restrains.
The corner of Y'sato's lips curl into a wry smirk, his eyes still on the arc of G'raha's collarbone, the skin there paler thanks to being shielded from the sun at the sunlit camp. "If I had known I would have asked you sooner, but I also feared I would just be in the way. Your research. I know how important it is to you."
There is a beat of silence before G'raha replies. "My research led me here true. All that I once sought I have found, and with it I also found you and I-" He swallows thickly, clearly struggling with a swell of emotion. His eyes seek out Y'sato's, the radiance of his stare almost too blinding, but Y'sato wills himself to look up, to meet it head-on. "Sato, I want you to know there will never come a day I would not wish to stand by your side."
The sound of his name on his lips, unadorned as always and uttered with such sincerity, his words, what they mean...
G'raha...You...
He doesn't think. Tears pricking his eyes he pulls G'raha into his arms, bunting his forehead. This is all he has ever wanted and more. His friend leans into the affectionate touch without question, laughing as their tails collide in their contented swaying. Y'sato brings a hand up to scratch the silken fur behind his ears and G'raha melts for him, leaning closer burrowing his face into his shoulder.
It's all Y'sato can do but to breathe. His eyes fall closed as he clings to him, hand splayed over one of his shoulder blades as he breathes him in, soaks up his scent. He is smoke and leather and old parchment all at once, mingling with the unique scent of him... A scent wholly his own. It reminds Y'sato of home. A home that can now finally be his. It's too much to resist. Too dreamlike. That G'raha wants to stay with him, its-
A tear slips free, but this time he isn't afraid in allowing it to fall, for his joy to be seen in full. Finally. Finally he has something to call his. Someone he can return home to.
No longer does he need to feel lonely on the road...
Fingertips move up to rake softly through the hair at the back of his head. The dull scratch of G'raha's neatly trimmed fingernails stirs as much as it soothes like always, but there is something else in his motion this time, something wanting, something barely restrained in the way he tugs gently at the soft strands. Something revealed in the shuddering breath he exhales, flush and warm against Y'sato's skin.
The unexpectedness of it all brings Y'sato pause. Feeling compelled to pull away from their hug, he rests his hands on his shoulders as he searches his face. "Raha?"
Royal red meets his inquiring gaze without hesitation. The sheer vibrancy, the intensity held within his gaze in this very moment has his breath hitch. Wordlessly G'raha draws closer, the piercing red of his gaze and the way their noses almost touch holding him captive. Y'sato is so entranced he fails to notice how G'raha's red silken hair graces his cheek, his thumb passing ever so softly over his bottom lip, tracing the shape of his mouth.
They are so close, their breaths mingling. Their proximity, the anticipation, the heat smoldering in G'raha's half-lidded gaze. The sight alone has sparks light up and tingle across his skin. Does this mean-
Y'sato's heart beats so fast in his chest from the thought it feels fit to burst. G'raha, does he intend to-
Closing the distance, his lips find Y'sato's and in that singular moment, his world turns white, a blistering heat burning him all the way down to his core. The soft press of his lips, the way he cups Y'sato's cheek like he is the most fragile thing in the world, like something he dares not touch, has his eyes close before he knows it.
Perhaps he is fragile, a man long torn from his birth land, and through circumstances not entirely under his control he now is a renowned Warrior. Ever stoic in the eyes of the populace, wearing a brave mask for the world to see, but to G'raha he is so much more. His friend has but gotten a glimpse of the shadows that hide underneath that mask, has seen him at one of his lowest points, and in the face of this realization Y'sato trusts him not to break him.
It is terrifying, but under his tender, caring touch, the sheer bliss of feeling the softness of his lips caressing his own, Y'sato allows his final defenses to fall. To at last be truly vulnerable.
One day...I'll lay it all bare to you...I swear it.
Once more he feels a familiar hand cradle the back of his head, ever so gently, and Y'sato lets his head fall back, ears downturned in submission. Gentle fingers press into his hair, pulling him closer as the kiss deepens and the realization hits him. G'raha is kissing him. He is kissing him so tenderly, and intends to walk at his side after everything is said and done. He will journey at his side, join him in his adventures. There will be more nights like this spent around a campfire under the stars. More easy laughter and smiles. With vibrant, warm eyes looking his way. The thought it's-
The breath he thought had left him escapes him in a ragged gasp, and G'raha pulls back in response. Instinctively Y'sato chases his mouth, but he finds nothing. Heart pounding he drags his dazed eyes open to find him wide-eyed and watching. The mix of shock and wonder in those eyes of glowing crimson mirrors his own.
Before him sits the man he was meant to be with all along. Under the light of the stars, the moon, Y'sato's gaze fairly burns, the hope he has long kept hidden in the shadowy crevices of his heart finally dares to step out into the light, to burn bright once more.
Words aren't needed. Reaching out for him he cups G'raha's cheek. The raw trepidation in his royal gaze is still there as he with trembling fingers brushes aside a stray lock of hair from Y'sato's forehead, brows furrowing as he studies his face for any reaction. The nervous tension is so clear in the set of his ears, and the slight quiver of his bottom lip has Y'sato go weak. There is such a soft, yet adamant question in G'raha's gaze Y'sato never wants to see again.
It's the final push that spurs him on. Courage he has never known sparks to life in his chest, takes wing before his nerves gets the best of him. Tail swishing, disturbing the sand behind him, eyes shining, his gentle hold on G'raha's cheek grows firmer.
"Raha." He says, pressing his forehead softly to his. "I'm yours."
The startled, relieved breath coming out in a burst against his lips tells him everything he needs to know. Pulling back he looks to G'raha and what he sees has his heart soar in his chest.
Red eyes soften to the shine of hearth fire. Their glow akin to a home Y'sato never knew he needed, but sought all along, and now, it is truly his. Holding his gaze, G'raha brings his hand to Y'sato's chest, his fingers splayed. The full weight of his palm comes to rest against his pounding heart and tingles prickling in his skin from the contact, Y'sato covers his hand with his own. He is trembling, they both are, tails swishing restlessly alongside the minute twitches of their ears. Smiling, his gaze never straying from his friend's, Y'sato allows his pulse to covey what his words cannot. As fortune will have it, in this moment they are equal, no words in all of creation able to convey just how much G'raha being here and having kissed him so tenderly means to him.
Emboldened he grabs the initiative. Without question he leans forward, once more finding G'raha's lips on his own. No more words needs to be spoken. G'raha's lips melt against his, so impossibly soft and warm, a low moan rumbles deep in Y'sato's throat in response. There is no hesitation in G'raha's kiss this time, in the way his palm melds against Y'sato's beating heart, the line they both were afraid to cross stricken from the sand as G'raha draws closer, his mouth moving slowly alongside Y'sato's, the slow glide of their lips languid enough to leave Y'sato light-headed. Even in his wildest dreams he never imagined- he never dared hope his friend would let him in this way. And here they are, piece by slow gentle piece learning to know each other in this new impossible way.
No fairy tale Y'sato has ever heard can compare to the way his soul alights, how his very aether yearns to be closer to the one who makes it sing. Of all the times he imagined his first kiss, should he ever find someone, of all the times he dreamed of G'raha after becoming such fast inseparable friends, Y'sato never dared think it would ever be like this.
The feel of finally having him this close, in this way. His tail thumps the sand, a strange impatience overcoming him, pulling at his nerves, his senses. More, he wants- he needs more. Feeling braver, his hands start to wander, his touch lingering over places he never dared stray, not even for a faint caress. G'raha shivers under his touch as Y'sato's hands glides down to the small of his back.
His fingers have barely sought out the soft place where his tail begins when G'raha pushes him back down onto the sand, straddling his hips, lips straying from his for but a moment. The motion alone, what it entails, has a jolt shoot up Y'sato's spine, his ears standing at attention. Undaunted he still seeks out the base of his tail. The silken fur under his fingertips is so impossibly soft, and without thinking he starts petting it. G'raha lifts eagerly into his touch, tail swishing as he chases the feel of his fingers in his fur. The purely instinctual response, Y'sato can't help but laugh. And it gives him an idea.
Knowing it is one of the most intimate things a miqo'te can do for another he starts to lightly scratch the soft, downy fur in the sensitive spot right on the underside of the base of G'raha's tail.
The reaction is immediate. With a surprised gasp, G'raha pulls back just far enough for Y'sato to see his face. His friend stills, his tail already lifting in response, tip quivering. The look in his eyes, the way his pupils already starts to dilate from this alone, dark depths stretching across the vivid red of his irises...
Y'sato swallows, thickly, the budding heat within him pulsing from the sight. Already his friend is starting to become undone in his arms from the looks of it, and the thought his touch has this strong of an effect on him both thrills and terrifies him in equal measure.
He doesn't get to dwell on it. G'raha seizes his arms and pins his wrists to the sand beside his head before Y'sato can utter a word. G'raha's knees slots with his hips as he wraps himself further up around him. Ruby eyes glints at him with such unexpected ardor and passion it steals his breath away. The solid weight of him above him and the assertive strength pinning him in place draws a gasp from Y'sato. This situation brings to mind their wrestling match, and how their roles now have been reversed, but this time, this passion, this heat, the way G'raha's tail swishes behind him, all quivering in anticipation, is all different.
Ever the opportunistic thief, he steals another kiss. This one firmer, fiercer. With a sliver of his tongue he runs its tip against Y'sato's lower lip. The sensation, the unexpected heat has Y'sato shiver. He yields to him without riot, a soft moan escaping him at the first caress of his tongue. It's so honey-sweet, the taste of him, of the evening tea he must have had but a bell prior, of apple and cinnamon. Unwilling to stop, tongue twisting with tongue he arches up into him in a fierce bid to banish any space that dares come between them.
A needy sound rumbles from the back of his throat. This isn't enough. More, he needs more!
"Raha..." He breathes into his mouth, not even sure when his eyes fell closed. His tail thumps into the sand at his side, his back arching, wanting, no needing so desperately to feel his skin on his. "Raha."
The agonized pleading in his voice isn't lost on his friend. Kissing him harder, tongue daring to go deeper, G'raha pulls back just enough to hike his hand up the front of Y'sato's shirt, by doing so letting go of his right wrist.
The movement is slow, but deliberate, his fingertips leaving prickling tingles in their wake. Static lighting jolts across Y'sato's nerve endings from the unexpected contact, his Echo magnifying the sensation tenfold. With enough startling intensity to have his breath hitch, setting his skin all afire he arches up into G'raha's hand, into his touch. Something primal and raw wells forth within his quickening heart. Something needy. Something wanting.
And how he wants. Before he can stop it a low pained whimper rumbles deep in his throat. In this very moment he wants nothing but to draw G'raha into himself, to be intimate. To feel him. All of him. Inside and out. Already he can imagine it so clearly. G'raha's skin on his, his full lips kissing a trail down his neck, sucking in his skin just so between his teeth at his pulse point, his breaths coming out hot and heavy, tongue-
He shivers, tail thumping the ground beside him, hard. Once, twice.
He struggles with his self-control, and G'raha's scent filling his nose doesn't make it any easier. He has scented it before, but gods can he detect it better now. It's clearer, headier, intoxicating.
Raha I-
A fire burns low in his belly. Hot and achingly so, his burning desire threatening to scorch all coherent thought if he lets it. As if driven by instinct he feels his hips start to buck up into G'raha's, and he feels it, feels his hardened arousal press against his inner thigh, can hear him moan in response, his own hips canting alongside Y'sato's. He trembles, the realization of what effects he has on his friend so stark in his mind's eye he struggles to make heads or tails of what he is feeling. It is still so new to him after all, this fierce want. The surging torrent inside draws his body in just one direction and one of his arms now freed he grabs onto G'raha's shoulder, at last managing to drag his heavy eyelids open. His heart. It knows what it wants, even when its erratic beat leaves him reeling. He doesn't let go of his friend, even as G'raha's mouth starts to wander, kissing a trail down his jaw. It's agonizingly slow, leaving him a shivering mess, but Y'sato stays put, stilling the movement of his hips even when all he wants is to burrow inside him, to taste his skin on his tongue himself. He can't help but wonder what G'raha will look like in the throes of pleasure, how he will sound like...
He swallows thickly, his pupils long having dilated, grown dark with desire. His ears flicks curiously, tail quivering alongside the motion.
He fully intends to find out.
Driven by that heady thought, his free hand seeks to undo the buttons in the front of G'raha's trousers, but G'raha is quick to still his hand.
"Not yet. Let me have this. If just for a moment longer." His voice comes out breathy, husky. Y'sato looks to him as G'raha lifts his head. His cheeks are all aflush, his hair bathed in the calm blue of the crystal tower, and his dazed eyes peering down at him thrills him like nothing else. There are only thin rings of red left, stray embers drifting from the dwindling fire reflected in his widened pupils. He is stunning in all his disheveled splendor.
"Then let me see you. All of you."
G'raha doesn't need more incentive. His tight vest is the first to go, and although Y'sato has seen him in a state of undress before the way his muscles flex and play beneath the span of his smooth, fair yet flushed skin has Y'sato already giddy with excitement. Already his hands seek out his back, to feel for himself how his muscles flex, the warmth of his skin, and the feel of them do not disappoint. G'raha's tail swishes happily at the contact, ears attentive, but he doesn't waste a moment in starting to remove Y'sato's gown and shirt.
He allows him without question, the low hiss and rustling of clothes being rapidly removed and tossed heedlessly to the sand all that detects in his ears. His eyes never straying from him, Y'sato lays back down on the sand and watches G'raha's expression as he traces the jagged scar just below the arch of Y'sato's collarbone left by Ifrit with a fingertip. Something his friend has never felt brave enough to do, until now. The sheer tenderness in his gaze, the way he touches him with such reverence has a bolt of liquid lighting sizzle through his veins. Y'sato can wait no longer.
His movements are quick, seizing G'raha by the scruff of his neck as he pulls him back down. With unrestrained ardor he licks into the hollow of his throat, his tongue hot on his skin, drinking him in. The salt of him awash on the tip of his tongue is so intoxicating, one of his ears twitching in response to the draining soft cry G'raha breathes against the soft fur. Not bothering to hold back anymore he sucks on the sensitive skin there, draws it between his teeth. His hips doesn't stop their renewed canting, rolling up into G'raha's. He want him to feel him. All of him, wanting so badly to be touched.
"Raha…" He breathes his name, a fierce yearning swelling within as his ears droop. A deep-seated ache crying for release.
"I need- Please."
And his pleading is enough. "And I will, Sato. I will grant you this and more. Anything you want. You but need to voice it." Is all G'raha says. His voice is soft, breaths shallow and yet it holds a commanding edge, and a promise Y'sato will get just what he wants, as long as he follows his lead.
G'raha impatiently busies himself with wrangling his legs out of his boots, his trousers quick to follow. Y'sato eagerly follows his lead, lifting his hips impatiently as he pulls his own pants down, G'raha freeing him from his straddle just enough for Y'sato to kick his pants off his legs. The cool night air has scarcely touched their newly exposed skin before G'raha straddles him again just as firm. Y'sato's eyes slide shut from the wanted skin contact, G'raha's mouth once more finding his, tongue sliding and caressing his own. His hand snaking down to grab roughly onto the scruff of Y'sato's neck, G'raha coaxes him to follow his lead, and Y'sato follows, high on the feeling of his skin on his, the taste of him on his tongue.
They set the pace, G'raha's free hand on one of Y'sato's hips now as he pulls him close, the canting of his hips following Y'sato's as they find their rhythm. Dimly he is aware of G'raha's tail brushing up against his, tip quivering as it seeks to twine, but all Y'sato knows is the bliss of a soft final caress of a tongue, of having his dearest friend so close, their scents mingling. G'raha offers gentle nips on his lower lip in parting, leaning back just enough before he reaches down.
Gentle slightly calloused fingers more used to drawing a bowstring taunt and leafing through dusty tomes, grab at the elastic band of Y'sato's small clothes. His breath hitches at the tantalizing pull and he impatiently, eagerly shifts his weight, canting his hips further to make their removal easier. The slick, soft fabric gives easily, sliding away with hardly any effort. All the while he regards the love of his life before him with such fervor, heavy-lidded gaze burning with untamed desire. G'raha's touch is his beacon, his red gaze his wine. He can't get enough of his brilliant, piercing eyes.
He will never get enough.
The weight of his arousal meets G'raha's hand readily. It pulses, aching to be touched. A moan bordering on a growl escapes him, feeling curious, assured fingers run down the length to the base. Gentle oh so gentle.
Yet there is a roughness to his touch as he glides his hand back up, his hand slick with his building need.
It hurts, a pleasing, ache seeping deep into his very bones. Such heat cascades down his spine driving him mad. He almost can't take it. He bunts his head roughly into G'raha's shoulder, tail lashing, thumping into the ground with overstimulation as he digs his fingers into his back, acutely aware of the delicious feel of his muscles flexing as he works on making him come undone.
A gentle touch teases the sensitive tip and Y'sato shudders, a strangled sound escaping him. This rippling, shimmering heat as he accompanies it with another glide. He doesn't want this to stop. He presses further in desperation, his back arching as he softly moans. His hips moves faster, canting deeper, firmer.
"Yes, that's it, my love. Move for me."
Love...
That one word, and said so affectionately spurs Y'sato on like nothing else and he arches further up into his chest. G'raha's voice is so soft against his ear, laced with an unspoken want. "You are so beautiful like this, I cannot-." His mouth finds Y'sato's nearest ear. A flash of teeth registers as they pinch into the delicate skin. Y'sato near buckles from the sensation, his breathing ragged. The small hurt is a great contradiction to the fierce heat swelling within, and he leans into it craving for more.
The nibbles are gentle, tentative, running up the length of his ear...
He is taken aback by a particularly aggressive nip at the tip and he gasps, the back of his head falling roughly back against the sand as he moans. Fevered dazed half-lidded eyes glaze over, him starting to wash away in sheer ecstasy.
G'raha's eyes widen with surprise upon seeing his reaction. "Sato? You still with me?"
He can't form a coherent thought, him beckoned to oblivion by the feel of the reassured hand running up and down his length, the steady rhythm of his hips moving against G'raha's, him now matching his pace in full. The pressure of the hand deepens into a firm squeeze as his friend's question goes unanswered. Y'sato sputters, chokes. G'raha wants words. Y'sato gives them.
"Yes." Y'sato manages, a strangled moan escaping him as he shudders, being at his friend's total mercy as he struggles to remain surfaced.
"Glad am I to hear it. What else would you like?" He murmurs, his hand accompanying the silky velvet of his voice with a calming glide. "I can't read your mind so tell me. I want to hear it"
Y'sato bites into his lower lip. What he wants. What he has always wanted. It has ever been crystal clear in his mind, and yet, this fervent desire, this need threatening to tear him apart. He wants to speak, to lay bare his needs, but all words escape him with a broken whine.
In their place his eyes closes with impulse, his features fevered and wilted with want. His kind proud ears swivel down, pressing further into the sand, submissive. He just hopes G'raha can understand him.
Grant me release. Please. Stay with me. To the end.
"You want me to join you?"
Y'sato nods, a needy pained sound in the back of his throat.
"You want to hear me sing?"
Y'sato's swallowed moan agrees, his voice but a whisper. "Yes, I want to...to touch-"
Without needing further incentive, G'raha with his free hand pulls his own small clothes down. It's primal instinct in how he thrusts the weight of his hot length eagerly into his and Y'sato's joined touch as he adjusts one of Y'sato's hands to wrap around them both to join him in the act. Y'sato can't see him, but the thick weight of him against his palm tells him he is everything he hoped for and more.
It's too much, to be together with him like this. To feel the most sensitive part of him pulse so readily beneath his fingertips, to hear the soft whine rip free from his throat as Y'sato runs his thumb over his tip, and yet it feels so right!
With his free hand, G'raha clutches a fistful of golden locks at the back of Y'sato's head, pulling him close, steadying as he resumes running his hand over their joined lengths.
He unleashes a near animal when goading him thus, leaving him a shivering incoherent mess. Instinct guides him, the canting of his hips gaining new fervor as they move against G'raha's own. He presses his body into him, his free hand raking through his hair, sliding down his back, grabbing into the base of his tail in a voiceless claim. His breathing comes out more ragged and heavy, chest heaving. He clutches G'raha by his lower back pulling him closer, harder.
Such ardor, such pleasure, his sweat and G'raha's writhing in heat. He needs this, wants this, wants G'raha to join him too, to feel exactly how he feels. Without thinking he increases the pressure of his hand, quickening the pace around their still joined lengths. The sharp intake of breath is audible. G'raha's tail whips behind him, the motion filled with agitation, overwhelmed. With a strangled moan he bows his head, ears falling back to their lowest point. His forehead comes to rest on Y'sato's shoulder, his panting flush and hot against his skin as he gives in to the quickened pace with reckless abandon.
"Sato" He breathes. Y'sato arches into his shoulder when G'raha works his fingers over the most sensitive part of him, of them both, stroking well, noises too pretty to ignore leaving his throat spilling free. A moan, a whimper followed by a throaty groan. Y'sato allows him to use his shoulder to rest on. To breathe. He brings his free hand up to cradle the back of G'raha's head, aiming to soothe as much as to stir as he runs his fingers into his hair, lightly scratching the fur at the back of one of his drawn-back ears.
There is something broken, an ardent plea in G'raha's voice as he clings closer. "Sato."
"I'm here. It's alright. You can let go. We are in this together."
Come on, Raha. Sing for me. Come for me!
Y'sato needs say no more. A shudder runs through his friend, tail quivering before he stills. The draining hymn of his voice, the flash of his teeth scraping against the skin of Y'sato's shoulder, thrills him like nothing else.
The slick of him spilling free into his hand, his pleasure saturating their joined touch as he goads him on despite his own release consuming him whips Y'sato into a frenzy.
A low keening leaves his throat, then a moan. His back arches against the sandy ground before he can do anything to stop it, his mouth falling open in a wordless shout. This rising heat, the aching pleasure within builds up to a crescendo.
Raha!
The searing rippling fire within bursts into a million sparks and Y'sato lets it all go with a fractured shout. His tail shudders, tip standing on end, not even aware he has his eyes closed.
He rides it out, fervent fire blazing within him, shimmering, sparkling, until he stills. Boneless he sinks back against the ground, and G'raha got him. He always got him.
He is scarcely aware of his friend sinking to lay down onto his chest, down deep and drowsy, a steadying arm snaking around under his neck holding him close. Y'sato shudders, struggling to catch his breath. A sensation of weightless sparks dances around him, but G'raha got his back. He strokes his hair, kisses of worship landing on his temple, his cheek. His nose nuzzling into his hair. He is there for him, steadying.
Y'sato finds himself loving this moment the most.. .This fall of breath, of having his dearest friend so close, holding him so reassuringly, doting upon him.
Safe. He feels safe.
"You did well, my love," G'raha whispers when he manages to catch his breath. He shifts, pushing himself up on an elbow, his fingers gingerly peeling back golden strands stuck to Y'sato's temple. He finally manages to pry his heavy eyelids open to behold him, the bright green unfocused and drowsy, and yet he feels so happy, content. G'raha is there with him, his eyes regarding him with such searing affection in that moment, simmering like firelight.
"So did you." Y'sato says, not hiding what he thinks or feels about G'raha's new adornment. Love, it should come as no surprise. Y'sato is his, now and forever more, and by the same token so is G'raha.
The fire of their makeshift firepit has long faded to smoldering embers, its light receding. In its place the light from the distant Tower bathes him in blue, starlight catching in ruby eyes Y'sato has long come to love, the celestial light dazzling in its deep splendor, glinting like stardust onto freckled arrow markings.
This is real. He is real.
"You are smiling." G'raha says, a peaceful smile playing across his own lips as his eyes searches his.
"Because I'm happy." Y'sato answers simply. It's the simple truth, and in this he has nothing to hide. "You being here, what we just did- How you made me feel- I struggle to find the words."
G'raha's smile widens, his eyes thinning to the adorable squint Y'sato loves so much. "As do I, my dearest friend. Believe it or not."
Y'sato chuckles, light-hearted and free. It's all he can do as he once more bunts G'raha's forehead. His tail seeks out and twines with G'raha's, a gesture his friend recuperates easily. "I'm so happy I met you."
There is a happy hum of acknowledgement, G'raha moving to wipe his soiled hand off on his handkerchief kept in one of his pockets in his trousers still bundled up next to his boots. Y'sato does the same when G'raha offers it to him, as well as to clean them both up with. He spares no thought on how to explain this to the guard back at camp or anyone really. Right now there is just him and G'raha. His heart fairly shines in his chest, aglow, warm fuzzy tingles still clinging to his skin. Peaceful smile still on his lips G'raha lays back down to rest his head on his chest. This time he is the one to bring a hand up to scratch Y'sato behind one of his ears and he leans into the touch, turning his head slightly to the side, flicking his ear forward to grant him better access. Before long a contented low purring fills the still night air, his arms wrapping around G'raha's back of their own accord.
The fire dwindles to nothing. The last hints of hot orange fizzles out, leaving crystalline blue and celestial gold the only light that remains. The moon traces its path further in the sky, and in the cool night breeze Y'sato sinks further into the warmth in his arms. Before he would have used an excuse it's to catch up on lost warmth, but now everything has changed. This warmth flooding his chest he now knows must certainly be love, and he melts further into G'raha's embrace, his touch, how tenderly he strokes his hair, pets his ears. The foreign feeling his flustered heart had felt at the start of the expedition is now the only thing he holds his faith in. The rock he clings to when nothing else makes sense. This feeling is still so new to him after all, but he knows this. He accepted it with open arms. For the first time he allowed himself to be truly vulnerable, to let someone in.
But it has been a long eventful night followed by a longer day with many a grueling battle and startling revelations, and as he lies there lulled by G'raha's soothing touch and blissful warmth that will blanket him always the weight of the day finally starts to drag his eyelids shut. He doesn't even notice as he starts to relax more into the sand, his cheek resting comfortably against the side of G'raha's arm whose hand still scratches his ear gently, oh so gently. On the verge of sleep, his contented purr dies in his throat, and he is vaguely aware of a hand moving to cup his cheek, thumb tracing the scar there.
"Sato? You asleep?"
"Mmn."
There is a soft chuckle, a soft puff of breath caressing his skin. G'raha shifting against him stirs him enough to drag his heavy tired eyelids open.
"Forgive me for waking you. Pray go back to sleep. The night is still young, and there is nothing pressing bidding us to return to camp. I'll keep watch so rest assured I will wake you should anything deem to disturb us."
Y'sato blinks groggily, once, twice at the smiling face before him. Despite everything G'raha both acts and sounds too animated for this ungodly hour, but Y'sato doesn't question him. After all he has to be overwhelmed still from what his Allagan blood has wrought. Hells, he wouldn't fault his friend for being overwhelmed even without the unlocked memories knowing what they just did.
"Just for a little while. I know you're tired too." Y'sato says with a wide yawn, his ear not squished into the ground swivelling back before springing back into its natural resting position. His tail giving a flick he once more seeks out G'raha's tail, his eyes already closing.
"Not to worry. I will get my rest ere long I am all but certain." G'raha's voice is so soft as he presses an affectionate kiss to Y'sato's forehead, his tail squeezing Y'sato's in turn. "You are much too dear for me to leave unguarded, so rest well, my love. You are in safe hands."
The sentiment alone is enough to move Y'sato, a lazy smile lifting the corner of his mouth as G'raha cups his cheeks to press a tender kiss on his lips. It's so soft, so tender Y'sato sighs into his mouth.
"Let's return here on the morrow. To do as I said. Just you and me."
"Yes. It sounds nice." G'raha hums. His eyes closed are they still are, Y'sato doesn't see the strained, tired smile on his friend's face, the melancholy that has his proud ears falter.
"It will be. This will be our place. Besides I have yet to show you the secret I found in the Tangle. We could do that after if you like..." Y'sato's voice starts to drift off, the sluggish sleepy pull too much to resist after everything. "You have my word. I won't go anywhere. Not without you."
A watery sheen comes over G'raha's eyes, the whites starting to redden, but he smiles and nods even when he knows Y'sato isn't watching, his smile a trembling thing, but genuine. "I look forward to it."
Y'sato smiles tiredly, leaning into one of his hands still cupping his cheek, his face illuminated by the serene blue of the Tower. "Happy to hear it."
Feeling weary to the bone, and happier than he can say he has been in ages Y'sato gives in to the sleep wanting so desperately to claim him, soothed by the feel of G'raha's fingers in his hair, on his cheek, tracing his scar. At last the gods smile on him. At last he is favored for more than just his battle prowess. This is where he was meant to be all along.
He is G'raha's and G'raha is his. The reborn light shines within him, unfettered and bright, blinding in its brilliance.
In the radiance of crystal, his heart is set free.
(Oh my precious boy, if only you knew...I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.)
I hope you enjoyed. This passionate scene wasn't initially planned to this extent, taking hold during the editing progress, but I'm happy it did. Sato and Raha know what they want and I could not deny them this. Especially when I know what awaits them both...
It also would be a lie to say I don't feel nervous. Never before have I published something of this nature for the whole world to see. It is daunting and yet I wanted to share, to show how they truly feel for each other, it being an essential step in the characters' journey with more planned in the future.
So with that, I hope I nailed it and hope you stay with me to the end. We are close now. So very close...