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At the railings by the throne room, Sidon watches the clear blue sky, enjoying how plush the clouds look amidst the summer air. He breathes it in and luxuriates in the pleasant scent, not once forgetting who he has to thank for it: Link brought him the sun. Just thinking of the little Hylian makes his heart race, his fingers tightening around the rail. Then he spots a fleck of gold down below, and he grins wide as he follows the movement.
Link runs along the bridge into the domain, as he so often has throughout his hectic journey. Sidon hopes he offers some respite. He heads down the stairs in an instant, wanting to meet Link as soon as possible. Sometimes, he tries to remain regal, to withhold his dignity, and not run out like a lovesick child with a burning crush. Other times, it’s simply been too long, and he can’t help himself. This is one of those times.
It’s entirely worth it when he meets Link in the central courtyard. Link comes to a stop before him, smiling brightly, eyes as clear as the river. He’s changed, once again, into something new, and this particular outfit makes Sidon stop in his tracks and struggle not to gape. Instead of the usual tunics, Link wears hardly anything across his middle. His peach chest is gloriously exposed, only marred by two straps dipping from either shoulder to the opposite side. He wears one sleeve of green and armour around either forearm, with an elaborate circle tight about his slender throat. Loose fitting, crimson trousers dip low across his hips, revealing much of his lithe waist. It’s the least Link’s ever worn to see him, and Sidon very much appreciates the view.
In a struggle for coherency, Sidon proclaims, “This one is very nearly true Zora attire! I would almost like to try it. Perhaps we could trade sometime.” He finishes in a chuckle, meaning it only as a joke—he doubts his armour would fit Link’s little body, nor Link’s his. But Link tilts his head cutely to the side, a curious look gleaming in his eyes.
Then Link runs a sweeping gaze up Sidon’s long form, and he nods his head once. Sidon blinks down at him and asks, “Truly?” Link nods again, and Sidon confirms, “You want to try each other’s on?” Link smiles wider, almost laughing at the idea, and Sidon flushes as he remembers, “Oh, but it would be dreadfully inappropriate; these ornaments are meant for Zora royalty... but it does sound like fun, doesn’t it?” Link only nods, then reaches out to take Sidon’s hand.
He gives Sidon a little tug, strolling around him and heading towards the secluded pool where their shrine rests. Sidon follows almost in a dream; he’s sure he’d go anywhere Link took him, especially if Link held his hand the entire way. He can’t help but fawn over the way Link’s tiny fingers fit entirely in his larger palm, and the smooth softness of Link’s creamy skin. It seems he should be calloused from his sword, but he isn’t. He’s so pure. Sidon follows him all too happily into the shadows of the shrine room, around the curving walls and out of sight, though still out of the water. Sidon finds himself grinning broadly too; it’s infectious.
At the end, he murmurs, “Very well, but if we get caught, I’m blaming you!” Link lifts a brow at him, and Sidon explains, “I know it was my idea, but it was your beauty that tempted me.” He hopes the compliment’s taken well—he means it sincerely—and sure enough, Link’s smile touches his eyes. He’s a vision of sheer radiance.
And he unclips the buckles across his chest with ease, then peels the sleeve slowly from his arm. Sidon’s mesmerized and has to force himself to participate rather than simply staring. He unfastens his own ropes, then unclips the gem in the center of his armoured neckpiece. He can’t wait to see it dwarf Link’s small shoulders.
Link bends to set down the slate from his hip and unfastens both armlets. Sidon drops his silver armour between them, then pulls his sash over his head.
Link hooks his thumb into his trousers and pushes down, halting Sidon completely.
With seemingly no care for modesty, Link shimmies the fabric past his hips, down his thighs, over his knees, and straightens again, still dressed in golden shoes, to step out of the pile. Nothing but bare skin is left along and up between his legs. Of all the Hylian’s Sidon’s ever met, he’s never seen one truly naked. He didn’t expect for it to happen now—he expected only to exchange the sort of clothes a Zora would wear. Instead, he’s left gaping at Link’s crotch while Link lifts his hands behind his neck and sets to unclipping his choker. It takes him a minute of fiddling—it must have a complicated clasp. It gives Sidon time to eye the gentle ‘v’, the sparse patch of golden yellow below Link’s naval, and the slight, flushed-pink slit at the very bottom. Sidon eyes the plush lips while his mind reels with what could be beyond them—do Link’s shafts protrude from it, like Sidon’s, or is it a true entrance, straight into Link’s pink insides? Is that where, if they were to make love, Sidon would insert whatever part of himself he could fit? Link finally gives up on the choker and turns his back to Sidon, gesturing to his throat. Sidon’s too busy ogling the two ripe globes of Link’s ass to be much use.
When Link taps his shoulder, Sidon forces himself to look at the choker long enough to figure out the mechanism. He clicks it open, then returns to Link’s scrumptious rear before it turns around.
In nothing but his shoes, Link plucks up Sidon’s sash and tosses it over one shoulder. He tugs it into place a few times before looking hopefully up at Sidon. There’s a faint blush on his cheeks and something else in his eyes that Sidon’s too busy reeling to interpret. Sidon just wants to cover every bit of Link’s bared skin with bite marks.
He can feel himself becoming aroused. He’ll be out soon, and it’ll be painfully obvious, unavoidable—he reaches for Link’s trousers, hoping they’ll be thick enough to hide his oncoming erection, only to hear a scandalized scream.
Sidon shoots up, head jerking towards the door, Link doing the same. Muzu stands in the entryway, looking at the two of them in utter horror. Even Sidon is underdressed. On sheer instinct, he steps protectively in front of Link, shielding the sight. Muzu looks torn between throttling them and fainting.
Despite his earlier teasing, Sidon tries to explain, “This is all my fault, but it isn’t what it looks like—we were only switching armour—”
Muzu shrieks right over him, “Out! Out, you heathens!” Sidon can hear rustling behind him. He doesn’t have the words to make this right.
Link appears at his side, fully dressed again, a minute later. Muzu yells something unintelligible at him, and he darts towards the door, up the stairs and out of the room. When he’s safely behind Muzu’s back and line of sight, he turns to give Sidon a little wave and a sheepish smile. Sidon’s never been more disappointed in his life.
He sulks all the way back to the throne room, where Muzu demands his father set a new dress code, especially for filthy Hylians.