Chapter Text
He comes to in a room with a high ceiling. Chief wakes with a dazed groan, and he has to blink through the blur in his eyes before they can focus on the stone roof. The bricks are worn, old, but not nearly enough to crumble; it’s strong, protective.
Where is he?
The second he tries to move, the realisation washes over him that he’s alive, violent as a wave against the shore during a storm. All the air is punched from his lungs and he rests his head back on the pillow. Everything hurts. Every bone in his body aches and every muscle is protesting about the movement; the perfect proof he made it out of death’s promising hands back to the world of the living.
He turns his head to his bedside, to the table and the contents on top. A half-burnt candle that has to fight hard to light the room on its own, a cup with water that feels too far away to reach, a rosary adorned with gold that haunts him a little.
Beyond those, heavy curtains reach nearly down to the floor, keeping any light from the outside at bay. Is he … home? A breathy laugh escapes him, one he immediately regrets as it pulls at his stomach painfully, but a wild grin still splits his lips apart. He’s home? He’s actually home!
And with home comes the thought of Rek. His true home, his everything. His duty, his king, his life. Someone he died for— someone he lives for.
Chief wants nothing more than to get up from this awfully soft bed to go find him. But he’s bound to it, his body too weak and pained to move without a spike of pain. He’ll have to count the seconds until he’s stable enough to stand on his feet, so he can serve his king again. It’s not worth trying hard and failing, and being met with Rek’s worried and disappointed expression later.
Luckily, his wait is over soon enough. A soldier opens the door to the room he finds himself in after a polite knock, and at the sight of him, awake and aware, he’s gone again. From there, it’s only a few minutes before someone else bursts through the door.
Chief doesn’t get a warning before his king is by his bedside.
Oh, his whole body lights up when Rek stares at him with wide eyes, jaw fallen in shock, worry etched into all of his features. But he too relaxes when he can finally reach out to wrap Chief’s hand in two of his own.
“You’re awake,” Rek breathes out, unable to stop his lips from quirking up into a relieved smile. He seems to fight with himself on what to do next. When he looks up, back towards the door, he’s tense, hiding something. Oh, right.
Chief watches the two knights, Bacon and Mapicc, stare curiously until Rek looks at them. They straighten up instantly, with a somewhat knowing look in their eyes beneath the loyalty that radiates off them like light. They know, they absolutely know. With the glance Mapicc sends him, a spark of mirth and joy that means not an ounce of harm, he still can’t help but relax at the fact that they do.
It’s Bacon who bows shortly. “We will stay outside. Call if you need us, for anything at all.”
Parker thanks them, every bit more relieved with each second that passes. He waits until the door closes before he lets his eyes meet Chief’s. They grow wet in a single moment, lip wobbling with emotion.
“Chief—” he starts, breaking off with a sob. He sinks to his knees, forehead resting on the bed, hands shaky where they hold onto Chief. An image he can’t help but compare to that of a praying man, one begging for forgiveness for a crime not yet committed. Is that what he is? His heart skips a beat, accusingly.
Hurt as he is, he still leans over the bed to lift Rek’s head up. He’s always been his king’s pillar, his strong founding wall. With a careful thumb, he wipes away the tears he can reach, forgetting his own pain for a moment—because what’s really more important?
“I was so scared—” his king admits, voice quiet, rough around the edges, breaking, so much that young king who earned the throne too early, the little boy Chief knew so well. “I thought I lost you. I didn’t know what to do, Chief, I just didn’t know what to do. I almost lost you, and I couldn’t— I didn’t—”
Chief shushes him. His heart swells when he cups his cheek and he leans into the contact, tight frown keeping his face hostage. His king doesn’t deserve to look so upset.
“I’m here now. I’m not leaving.” He urges Rek to his feet, suppressing a hiss at the aches and pains. Parker sits down next to him, chases his hand, shudders when he can finally grab onto his arm, his shoulder, his chest, his neck all the way up until he traces his thumb over Chief’s lips. “I’m never leaving again.”
Rek hiccups, a sad but adorable little noise. The tears fall, but now there’s a smile, one so unbearably full of relief Chief has to swallow the lump in his throat. But the other nods. He’s careful not to dislodge the hand on his cheek. God above, this man is a blessing.
The cross burns into the back of his mind. Rek is such a blessing, his whole life is a blessing. Guilt nags at him, a biting that won’t let him go. He’ll have to make his peace with it or let it consume him, let it take away the one man he loves more than anything in the world, more than his own soul. That damn cross haunts him like a nightmare, an importance in his life he can’t deny but metal bars to keep him from something he wants so badly.
They both know it. They’re both feeling the horrors of their own conscience. It weighs down on them, makes Rek choke on air at the mere sight of it behind Chief. None of it’s fair.
Imprinted into their minds from a young age, words spoken from an altar that echo through enormous cathedrals, golden crosses built too high to reach. God, who’s supposed to give them everything their hearts desire and more; but all Chief desires is Rek and all the king has ever wanted was to be able to look at Chief with anything more than a guarded look of approval in public, to hold his hand and not fear who’s watching, to lean in and kiss his loyal knight on the lips without consequence. It shouldn't be too much to ask for, yet all they’re taught is no.
So, Chief might carve his own path. He’ll encourage Rek to do the same.
“Do you swear it to me?”
The words are heavy, laden with a weight stronger than the foundations of the earth, and Rek leans in to lessen the gap between them. His breath ghosts over Chief’s face, over his lips, sends tingles down his spine. He still swallows as he watches the man beneath him stare, tears fresh in his eyes.
“Yes.” He turns to press into Parker’s hand, leaving a kiss to his palm. “I swear it on my life, on all the breaths that I have left to breathe. You are everything to me.”
The shackles burst. Rek shoots forward with the confidence of a trained lancer, and he kisses him like he’ll lose him again if he doesn’t, kisses him like he isn’t allowed and yet can’t stop now. A frown holds Rek’s face hostage but all the stress and tension seeps from his shoulders the second Chief returns the warmth, kissing his king with fervour. His lips are chapped where Rek’s are soft and sweet and perfect. He’s like a gift sent from above, skin smooth under his hand, untouched by any weapon, the adorable smile he feels making every injury lighter.
He sighs against his lips. This is what he wants. This is what they’ve both wanted for so long, to just take and not worry about some consequence, there’s no more hiding it, no more shying away. Between all the featherlight stolen kisses and longing, it’s freeing, like floating in a dream.
A blush spreads over his face when Rek giggles against him. Chief can only look up to him with wonder, with awe, with an overwhelming adoration, can only kiss back as his mind struggles to catch up. He wants to run his fingers through his hair. He wants to see him smile forever. He wants to hear him laugh, feel him shiver as he holds him in all the ways he wants, have him press up against him until their heartbeats become one.
For now, he’s satisfied letting all the details soak into his memory. Parker presses another kiss to the corner of his lips, agonising sweetness and happiness radiating off him like sunshine.
Fire burns in his king’s eyes. He’s so careful, so gentle, laying him back down so he’s comfortable, then sits by his side, not an inch between them. Chief can’t help his smile when he presses his lips to his shoulder and neck all the way up so he can properly kiss him again before he settles down beside him. Rek’s fingers trail invisible shapes over his skin, trace upwards to hold his face.
This is what it’s all for, isn’t it? This makes all the fight worth it.
Whatever happens next, whatever consequences there may be … damn it all. He lives for his king, nothing else. Rek will always and forever be his priority. There is no greater gift than his awkward little laugh at how Chief stares at him, the blush that heats up his face, the affection swirling in the depths of his beautiful blue eyes.
He should say it. He needs to, before he loses this chance again. There are no words for how he’ll defy any power above him just to be like this with Rek again, none that are quite worthy to say he’ll do anything for him like he has before. Still, he presses a gentle kiss to his lips to stress his point and holds his wrist just to feel him.
“I love you, Rek,” he whispers, finally, against the softness of his skin, eyes falling shut when Rek’s heartbeat stutters and his breath hitches. A hand curls around Chief’s shoulder, nails digging into skin, like he needs to hold onto him so he doesn’t fall off the ends of the earth.
His king buries his face in his chest, tucking his head underneath Chief’s chin. His lungs expand with a deep breath before he sighs out, something so relieved about it. He hums, his entire body relaxing as he wraps his arms around him. Now, they can finally just hold each other. It’s right. No one can tell them otherwise. It’s so perfectly right to feel each other’s warm bodies, fitted together like puzzle pieces. Rek hums, Chief can feel him swallow as he prepares himself to speak up. He doesn’t blame him one bit, knowing what he’ll say and feeling so much lighter before he can even get the words out.
“I love you.”