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The sweltering heat from earlier on in the day had finally cooled down to something comfortable enough to spend some time walking around the courtyard in, and the king of the land of Zaron has found himself strolling down the dark red brick paths.
How the people of the Western Confederacy could stand such heat, Kyle would probably never understand.
His companion, if someone was not used to seeing the two together, could be called comically shorter than Kyle. He himself was a towering individual, no doubt due to his lineage and upbringing, and seeing the two walk together would probably be quite the sight to see for a person who was not used to their level of closeness.
A cool breeze blows past the two as they walk down the path, lit up only by the large, silvery moon hanging in the sky. The thin branches of the willow trees that surround them sway with the wind, creating a melody that matches the tranquil atmosphere of the evening. A cicada bug sounds off in the distance, but it doesn’t seem to disturb the peacefulness, only adds another instrument to the song that is the night.
Kyle can’t help but think this land is beautiful. It is nothing like his home; sharp mountains and cold weather, dreary skies and hard soil. Here, it was like he was being transported to a different kind of world. The people were so full of love and culture, helping out their neighbors and townsfolk and even complete strangers, out of the goodness of their hearts.
It was quite a refreshing thing to experience, and it had put him in quite a good mood the entire time that they had been visiting this land.
The elf king and his trusted guard do not speak as they walk, instead enjoying each other’s company and taking in the sights and sounds of the night. As they turn a corner, Kyle reaches down and grabs the large and calloused hand of the man next to him and pulls him along to the large fountain they have just stumbled across.
The fountain itself is beautiful. Weathered limestone that had passed the test of time stood contrast to the dark greenery that surrounded it. Blooming bushes of hydrangeas adorn the brick path they’ve followed, and the fountain itself is surrounded by large clusters of violet colored irises and collections of the vanilla white blossoms of the silverbell tree.
The quiet sound of the water pumping through the fountain and spraying a cool mist through the air is enough to make Kyle want to sit down and enjoy the view, and he pulls Stan along until they’re sitting on the edge of the fountain, shoulders bumping together and elbows knocking each other from their close proximity.
Neither of them have said a word yet, too enraptured by mother nature herself playing them a sweet tune as they enjoy the night and each other’s company.
Kyle feels Stan squirm next to him, and it’s still so strange to him that he’s finally back by his side after so long. They’ve spent over a lifetime together, and even just a few years apart was enough to almost drive Kyle insane. He’s so incredibly grateful to have Stanley back next to him he feels a lump in his throat form by just the thought of it.
He’s pulled out of his musing though as Stan unceremoniously plops his head against the taller man’s shoulder, resting almost against his chest. Kyle looks down, and his heart aches for a completely different reason as he takes in the sight of Stan next to him.
His eyes are closed, face lax as the man concentrates on the sounds surrounding him. Another breeze blows past them and Stan shivers just slightly, enough for Kyle to notice, so he wraps a long arm around the raven haired man’s shoulders and pulls him just a little closer. The long sleeve of the king’s robes act as a blanket of sort, and Stan nestles down even closer, sighing in his contentedness.
Kyle can’t help but keep his eyes on him. He spent too long only being able to stare at a bust of the man before him. Memorizing his features; the angle of his jaw, the slope of his nose, the curve of his lips. How Stan would scrunch up his nose when he found something distasteful, or how his dimples would show only when he laughed at something particularly funny. The tiny little wrinkles that would appear when his smile was too wide, or how his adam’s apple would bob up and down when he would try to hide the fact that he was upset about something.
Sometimes he thought he would never see Stan again. He thought it had been a good excuse to study the bust for hours on end.
But here he was, next to him, so close that if anyone were to stumble upon them they might get the wrong picture. Maybe they’d assume they were two star-crossed lovers, only meeting in the dead of night. The path to each other lit up only by moonlight and the hundreds of fireflies dancing about the trees, sharing an intimate moment, the only witnesses being themselves and the millions of stars above them.
Maybe that’s what Kyle wanted.
He continues to stare down at Stan, taking all of him in. His heart aches for the scars he sees littering the smaller man’s features. Knowing that many of them he was at fault for, in some way or another.
He can’t help himself as he lifts his free hand, the other one still clutching tightly to Stan’s own, and gently traces the jagged scar that reaches from the right side of his neck all the way down to the bottom of his jaw. The skin there is tight, raised slightly, and he drags his finger up until he reaches another scar, over his left eyelid.
He can feel Stan stiffen beneath him, cautiously but patiently letting Kyle run his long and spindly fingers across his face. He hums quietly when he feels Kyle stop, but relaxes just slightly when the redhead’s fingers drag down the side of his neck, over his collarbone and settling on his chest. His hand lingers, and he knows Kyle is hesitating before he presses down on the spot where his largest scar is.
The one scar that changed his life completely.
You couldn’t see it through the loose shirt he was wearing, but the reminder of a past life and a valiant death is present in the form of a hard, almost black scar that makes his skin ache and his heart hurt.
His breathe hitches, and Kyle pulls his hand away.
Stan opens his eyes and is met with hazel ones staring right back at him, like they were trying to figure out what he was thinking.
But then Kyle smiles, his angular and sharp face appearing softer and serene, even, and Stan’s chest aches with love for the man before him.
The hand still holding Kyle’s own clutches even tighter, grounding him, and he looks down. Kyle’s intent and hard gaze makes him feel inadequate, like he doesn’t deserve to be looked at with such strong adoration. He’d known Kyle for hundreds of years, but the way he looked at him sometimes still made him feel like he was a masterpiece of a painting, only waiting to be scrutinized by the gaze of others.
In the hundreds of years he’d known Kyle, he’d never once scrutinized him for how he’d looked.
“I think they’re beautiful.” Are the first words he hears that night, and he shivers as Kyle leans forward, deep voice almost vibrating in his throat. “I think you’re beautiful.”
The words are just a whisper, but it’s enough for Stan to look up in time to see Kyle lean forward.
He stills, frozen as Kyle presses a ghost of a kiss against the scar on his jaw. And then he’s moving up, letting go of Stan’s hand in favor of cupping Stan’s face as he brings him closer and leaves another kiss near the corner of his left eye, where a long and thin scar had made its home for the past few years.
Stan pulls back from Kyle, only so he can look into his eyes and try and convey the amount of love and devotion he felt for the older being next to him.
They spend the rest of their night sitting side by side, hands clasped together and Stan’s head back to resting on Kyle’s chest as they listen to the music of the night and count as many fireflies as they can. The mist coming up from the spraying of the water fountain keeps them cool all night long, and it isn’t until the sun decides to break through the early morning clouds that the two decide to make their way back through the courtyard.
Kyle never lets go of Stan’s hand, and Stan’s heart feels heavy with love.