Chapter Text
It was inevitable that he’d end up at one of these awful gatherings again, really. Zelos should have better prepared himself for the unwelcomed familiarity of it all.
Zelos observes the gathering hall with a glass of champagne held loosely in his grip, rim pressed to his lips as sharp eyes wander over the guests, recalling names, families, businesses, and connections. His left hand rests on his right forearm as he half-heartedly pays attention to the lady attempting to win over his affections for the night, fan obscuring half her face in what he’s sure she thinks is a coy move on her part. He’s so over this.
The problem with spending five years on the road with his sister, just catching up and learning how to be Zelos Wilder, not the Chosen of Mana, is that coming back to this life of obligation and fighting for dominance in society, for power and wealth and - god forbid - happiness, is made so much more difficult. Zelos used to be able to stuff himself into suits and drink champagne and flirt and play the seduction game with the best of them. Now, even though he’s still damn good at doing so, his masks are rusty, and his numbness is lessened by the fact that he’s found some sort of life of his own, and he’d like to fucking live it for once. Putting on this act just doesn’t do it for him anymore.
But alas and alack, Zelos Wilder was brought to this world with a rotten streak of luck and an awful family lineage. At least his sister is cool.
His sister, who forced him to be here in the first place. Zelos pouts, taking another sip of his champagne. Maybe not so cool. To be completely honest, Zelos isn’t sure why she was so up-in-arms about him showing up anyways - this is way more up her alley than his, given that it seems to be some announcement party for some new artistic tribute or some bullshit. Seles has always been into the art scene of Meltokio, and Zelos has always been happy to let her handle the family representation on that aspect, so why is he here.
In fact, why did she even make him say she was sick? If she didn’t want to show up, she didn’t have to - neither of them did. This is pointless. If the lady next to him doesn’t stop talking, he’s gonna jump out the nearest window -
Whatever. At least the place looks nice and the champagne is top notch. The ruby red velvet curtains against the golden walls? Nice touch, honestly, given how the moonlight streams in through the large glass windows. The floor looks so clean you can eat off of it, and the tables are lined with deliciously expensive looking food. It really is quite the royal engagement, even if Zelos can feel his lifeforce drain with every second he’s left in here.
Okay, maybe he’s laying it on a little thick.
It’s not a total loss, Zelos thinks, shooting the lady next to him a smirk and a wink before bowing out and walking towards the giant chocolate fountain in the right corner of the room. Best case scenario, he finds a convenient excuse to leave alone and early, whines to Seles about how he’s the best older brother because look at the suffering he’s done tonight, and then goes to bed. Worst case scenario - if it could even be called that, truthfully - he uses his time here to find some hot heir or heiress and gets to end the night with mind-numbing, noncommittal sex. It’s that easy.
Might as well get to it, he thinks, scanning the faces of the people in the hall. There’s Duke Eicher, with all of his cold-blooded excellence. Word on the street is that he killed his father and made it look like an accident, but with the way the royalty in this room swarm over him, you’d think he was the latest pop craze. In any case, he’s about five years too old and three degrees too far off the deep end.
Lady May could be a good contender, but she’s had an awful crush on Sir Hutchinson since they were in diapers. Zelos thinks that saving yourself for a married man is quite the terrible way to live your life, but hey, whatever works for her. Not like he can’t see why she would be attracted to Sir Hutchinson anyways - dude’s quite the looker.
Zelos narrows his eyes, placing his champagne glass on a passing waiter’s empty platter, and leans back against a stone column. To be honest, Zelos was hoping for a little more of a show, for some good looker to come out and surprise him, be worth the chase at all, but all he’s seeing is a lot of people too caught up in looking special to actually be special. It’s quite boring, but. Well, beggars can’t be choosers, he supposes, shoving his hands into his pockets. It might be time to fake food poisoning -
- Oh? Who’s that?
The man’s back is turned to him, deep in conversation with Princess Hilda, who’s actually smiling and talking back as though she’s talking to a long-time friend and not some member of the aristocracy that lives to be eye-level with her. Zelos’ eyes wander from her face back to the man’s figure, broad shoulders decorated with dark burgundy fabric perfectly tailored to fit them. His hair seems messy from the back in that sort of careful way, just enough to come off as effortless without being seen as just lazy. Slowly, Zelos makes his way across the hall, shooting off smiles and greetings and laughs as he does, keeping an eye on the man, attempting to see him from the front. He kinda feels like a cat stalking its prey, but his interest is peaked.
At some point, as Zelos is walking past the orchestra and attempting to shake off the attention of some random fan of his, Princess Hilda is called away for another conversation, and the man waves at her, turning on his heel as soon as she’s out of sight. In that moment, Zelos and the man make eye contact, and Zelos has to clench his jaw tight to keep it from dropping.
Lloyd Irving stares at him from across the hall.
If Zelos has ever felt immediate regret over his thoughts, he is certainly feeling it now.
Panic floods through Zelos’ system as he hastily breaks eye contact, hoping to any deity out there that Lloyd didn’t recognize him. It’s been ten years, after all, who’s to say he remembers Zelos -
A glance up and - yeah, no, if that bright, excited grin is anything to go by, Lloyd certainly remembers him. Zelos’ heart flutters in his chest at the sight of such pure delight directed straight at him, sincere and joyful and so Lloyd it feels like rose-tinted nostalgia. It’s been ages since he’s seen one of Lloyd’s contagious smiles in person, and he can’t stop the way his own lips quirk upwards. God, it should be illegal to be sexy and adorable at the same time, but apparently Lloyd was able to become both. Is this a perk of dual-wielding swords? You just become ambidextrously attractive?
Alright. Okay. This is fine, this is fine. Zelos misses his champagne all of a sudden, but this is fine. There’s no guarantee Lloyd’s gonna come looking for him, and Zelos has no intention on initiating any conversation, (not with Lloyd looking like that and Zelos’ heart spiraling into some awful hopscotch beat), so it’s fine. He’ll fake that food poisoning now and just take his leave while Lloyd’s distracted.
Except. Aw, fuck. Lloyd’s making his way over, what the hell!
Watching as Lloyd makes his way down the hall, Zelos debates the pros and cons of hauling ass out of here like a coward and leaving Lloyd to eat the dust - for one, he won’t have to talk to the guy he’s kinda sorta avoided thinking about for the last ten years, the same one that he crushed hard on even back then. But… Truthfully, Zelos feels excited about this, his heart pumping with a sort of adrenaline he hasn’t felt in a while. It’s thrilling, seeing Lloyd again, even though his vulnerabilities pound at his head mercilessly.
Zelos chuckles nervously for a second, running a gloved hand through his bangs with an anxious exhale, before deciding to put on his best mask of composure and facing Lloyd with an ounce of normal friendliness. Never mind that Lloyd had just been a possible contender for someone to fuck just a few minutes ago, or that he looks downright delicious in that tux, which - who picked it out for him, because Zelos needs to greet that person with a cash reward and enough thank-you’s to give them a praise kink.
It takes Lloyd a little bit to get to him - he would only get a few feet forward before somebody would stop him for a conversation. And Lloyd, with all of his country boy kindness, would stick his hands out and smile bashfully with a shake of his head before continuing on. It warms at Zelos’ fear, the way that Lloyd is actively seeking out his attention, the way he’s rejecting others’ just to try and get to Zelos any faster. It makes Zelos feel wanted, and for a second, he’s able to pretend he is.
And then Lloyd is standing in front of him, and Zelos can’t stop the way he looks him up and down. Their slight height difference is gone, with Lloyd standing at the same height as Zelos, and this close Zelos can see the stubble that lines Lloyd’s jaw, the light scars that discolor his face. His deep red eyes still have their youthful cheer, but his face is generally sharper than what Zelos remembers, reflecting the fact that Lloyd is twenty-seven years old. It’s a shock to Zelos, honestly, and now that he can see him properly from the front, Zelos takes a second to really appreciate this tux choice. The color works well against his tanned skin, and the white shirt and burgundy vest combo, with a bow-tie? Zelos is swooning.
“Zelos,” Lloyd says, smile widening as he looks at the ex-Chosen, seeming as excited as Zelos always remembers him being. He pulls Zelos into a quick hug, knocking the wind out of his lungs, and then pulls back, leaving his hands on Zelos’ shoulders. “Look at you, man! It’s been so long!”
“Y-Yeah,” Zelos chokes, clearing his throat and fixing his posture, attempting to try and get his charisma back in working order. That hug felt really nice and he hates it. “Look at me?” He asks, laughing loudly and with a slight tinge of panic, “look at you! All dressed up and fancy. What are you doing here?”
Lloyd blushes a little, which is adorable, goddamnit, and drops his hands, instead rubbing at the back of his neck with his right hand. “I’m here for business, actually. Handling a commission for the Meltokio Central Square.”
Zelos raises an eyebrow, legitimately impressed. “That’s a tall order, Lloyd. Congrats! What is it?”
“Ah, can’t tell you.” Lloyd says, smiling bashfully, “signed a contract and everything. Plus, it’s a surprise! It’s cool though, I think you’ll like it.”
“Does this commission have to do with,” Zelos raises a hand, gestures to the entirety of the hall with an expectant look, “all of this?”
Lloyd nods, chuckling. “They wanted to throw a party to celebrate the start of construction for the commission. I told Princess Hilda that this wasn’t really needed, but she forced my hands until I said yes. It’s not really my scene, but - hey, I’m not gonna say no to the princess of Tethe’alla.”
“You got friends in high places, Irving,” Zelos says, crossing his arms over his chest with a playful grin. “Don’t let that influence get to your head, now.”
“Never!” Lloyd replies, sticking his tongue out in fake disgust. “I’ll take my simple backwater life over this any day.”
Zelos opens his mouth to respond, something sassy and probably minorly offensive about to slip off his tongue, but then Lloyd continues.
“Hey, at least we get to see each other again, right? It’s been ages, I wanna catch up!”
Goddamnit, Lloyd Irving, try at least a little harder to quit stopping Zelos’ heart. Internally rebooting, Zelos blinks, mind searching desperately for a reply to that that isn’t hopelessly gay or incredibly telling at just what Zelos thinks of Lloyd right now, at this exact moment, as he looks at him with those transparently hopeful eyes. Zelos wants to let out a whine so bad - he thought he’d been over this crush for so long, are you really telling him that just talking to a dressed up Lloyd is all it takes to drag him back into this pit?
“S-sure,” Zelos bites out, willing back the light blush that so badly wants to coat his face. “How long will you be in Meltokio for?”
“Six months!”
Martel, strike Zelos down where he stands. “That’s plenty of time for catching up,” he says, keeping his face neutral as he can, “I can show you around the hot spots -”
“Hey, actually, I have an idea!” Lloyd interrupts, face alight with a mischievous beam. Lowering his voice, he leans in just close enough where Zelos has to remember to breathe, “let’s leave. They won’t notice we’re gone, and I found a cool pub not that far from here a few nights ago.”
Lloyd stands straight again, placing his hands in his coat pockets. “I’d kinda like to eat something more than dumb finger foods, honestly. We can talk there. You in?”
Say no, Zelos, it’s that easy. Say you can’t, or that you gotta get home and check in on Seles, or that you’re food poisoned and need to see your family doctor or anything. Just don’t say yes, don’t agree to go to the pub with your old friend, your old crush, who’s incredibly cute and friendly, who makes you feel like you’re worth more than the dirt on the bottom of your fancy shoes just because he’s that kind. Just say no. It’s that easy.
Of course, Zelos says yes.