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Chapter Text

Something bright bubbles up in Minoth as he watches the Aegis train, light and warm and exciting, and at a vicious side slash of Malos’ sword, he leans forward in his seat. Oh, Malos’ carefully groomed hair has come undone, and would you look at that, he’s flushed with effort. Minoth smiles at him encouragingly.

“You see now, Minoth?” Amalthus asks beside him, but he’s hardly paying attention. All he sees is Malos raking a hand through his messy hair, Malos wiping the sweat from his brow, Malos rolling his shoulders to stretch, Malos , Malos , Malos . The Aegis is a very good source of inspiration, isn’t he?

Long, long legs stride toward him, and Malos stands before him, so close he could reach out and touch him. But no, they’re only teammates, friends at best. Minoth forces himself to relax.

“Minoth, you ready to go?” Malos demands, and he rises on legs that only just shake. Malos almost smiles at him - almost. His eyes crinkle at the corner, and his face softens, and Architect but Minoth wishes he could grab him and kiss him. Who was it that said that falling for your friends was easier than not doing so? 

He stares into bright, pale eyes for a moment, dazed, and finally, Malos’ stony facade breaks. He cracks a grin; Minoth’s heart cracks at the corners. 

“Let’s go,” he offers, falls into step and easy conversation with Malos, and they head for the throne room to report to the Praetor.

Across from him, Minoth rests his elbow on the table as he hovers over a book, stifling a yawn. He’s been skimming the same page three times by now; Malos has kept count.

“You know,” he begins mildly, snickers at the startled noise Minoth makes. “You don’t have to memorize that tonight. Put it away and go to bed. It’ll be there tomorrow.”

Minoth stares at him, bleary-eyed. He’s pale and haggard and there are dark circles under his eyes and his hair looks like shit, not to put too fine a point on it, and Malos can’t help gently prying the book out from beneath him and setting it aside. Minoth hums softly, leans into his arm. 

“Minoth,” Malos tries, pushes gently at him, and Minoth clings tighter. Well, shit. He looks awful, like he really needs a nap and a good meal, and Malos wipes a hand down his face in resignation and lifts Minoth out of his chair.

Minoth startles awake, eyes widening as he takes in their situation. Malos snickers to himself and carefully sets him onto the couch.

“What’re you doing?” Minoth demands, gives him a half-hearted glare. 

“Making you comfortable,” is all Malos says, and Minoth hums softly and takes his hand. 

“Stay with me,” he says. “It’s nice having you here.”

Malos rumbles, deep in his chest, and watches his partner slowly fall asleep. Minoth shifts a lot, and kicks the covers, and his hair frames his face in messy strands, and Malos wishes he could simply lean in and drop a kiss onto his forehead.

He resigns himself to simply sitting and watching.

“Malos,” Amalthus snaps. “Pay attention. You’ve been terrible today.”

He sounds like he’s scolding a disobedient child, and to his thinking, he might be. Malos can’t bring himself to care, not when his mind keeps drifting to the note Minoth left on his desk.

Come to the town square after your training , the note had read. No explanation, no hint, just that simple command, and he can’t get it out of his head. He turns to Amalthus, tilts his head, and Amalthus scoffs.

“You’re hopeless, Malos,” he spits, shakes his head. “I don’t know why I put up with you, really.”

On any other day, that would sting. Today, all he can think of is Minoth - his laugh, the way he brightens at the mention of a good new play, the way he looks tying back his hair. Malos wills the hours with Amalthus to finally pass him by. 

Finally, finally, they’re finished together, and he can get away from his Driver and back to his friend. Architect help him, but Amalthus pisses him off. 

Malos disintegrates his sword, stems his ether so as not to startle any random Blade he comes across, and darts out to the courtyard.

Minoth is there, sitting and feeding a stray tirkin, smiling warmly as it pecks a strip of meat from his hand. Malos doesn’t have time to wonder where he got the meat, or why he’s feeding the creature, before Minoth sits on his haunches and cranes his neck back to look at him.

“Is this why you called me out here?” Malos asks, crouches beside him and reaches his hand out to the tirkin. It sniffs him, caws angrily and waddles away. Minoth coughs down a laugh.

“That’s part of it,” he says mildly, turns to face Malos. “It’s nice out today, isn’t it?”

Malos blinks at him. The day is beautiful, the sky a clear, bright blue, everything bathed in soft golden sunshine, but he can’t fathom why Minoth would bring that up now. 

“What?” he says, blank, and Minoth snorts and gives him a strange look.

“Oh, Malos,” he sighs, cups the palm of his hand around Malos’ jaw. “I called you out here for this .”

He leans in; Malos freezes, face heating as he takes in their proximity and the glints of gold on Minoth’s lashes, and he wonders if Minoth can hear his heart hammer against his ribs. 

Minoth is kissing him, then, carding his hands into his hair, and oh , Malos expected something like this logically, but to think that someone like Minoth would ever kiss someone like him? He melts, does his best to kiss back, and Minoth hums and patiently guides him, pushes him down and climbs into his lap. 

“Oh,” is all he can say as they break for air. Minoth catches his mouth in another kiss, cradles his face like he’s some precious, fragile thing, and for once, for the first time, Malos feels like he is. 

Chapter Text

After that kiss, things become easier. They don’t dance around one another anymore, and Amalthus’ jabs and remarks become easy to ignore.

The trouble with finding out you’re in love, however, is that your lover tends to not want to let you go, and that leads to distractions and missed appointments and the like.

Really, though, if your lover is the Aegis, does it matter?

Minoth turns on his side, studies Malos as he naps in the sun. Oh, he could sit and stare forever, and he has things to do, but Malos is here, and he’s perfect . Minoth sighs and presses a kiss to his mouth, and watches Malos’ lips quirk into a smile.

“Hello, sleepyhead,” he whispers, laughs against Malos’ mouth and brushes his knuckles down the sharp line of his cheek.

Malos grumbles and wrinkles his nose and whines. “Minoth.”

“Right here,” Minoth says, lays down beside Malos in the rare patch of grass they’d found. Malos hums, eyes soft and unfocused as he glances over at Minoth. He smiles again, wider this time.

“I love you,” he says, simple and sincere. Minoth sighs, curls against Malos and rests his head on his chest and closes his eyes as he listens to his heartbeat. Malos mimics his sigh, kisses the top of his head and wraps an arm around him. 

“I’m glad,” Minoth remarks, nestles closer. Malos makes an inquisitive noise beneath him.

Minoth raises his head.

“About you loving me, I mean. It wouldn’t do if my affection weren’t returned, would it?”

Malos clears his throat and flushes, and Minoth snickers and kisses him sweetly.

"I have an idea."

Malos stares at him.

“Let’s go prank someone,” he suggests, gives Malos a playful shove; Malos is up in a flash, eyes glinting dangerously.

They nearly trip over each other in their haste to get to Amalthus’ office.

Pranking Amalthus turns out to mean ambushing him from within the crowd and upending a bottle of the most disgusting concoction conceivable to man and Blade over his head . 

Malos does the honors; he phases behind Amalthus, shrouds himself in shadow and tilts the bottle to cover their Driver in what one of the cooks had affectionately labeled ranch and what Malos less affectionately labeled fucking vile . By the time Amalthus realizes what's happening, Malos disappears from behind him again, biting his lip to hold in a shriek of laughter. 

"Come on, come on," he hisses at Minoth, snickering like a child, and they teleport away again, to… ah. The Titan's tailbone, for lack of a better word. 

"He won't find us here," Malos says, looking around himself and still breathing hard. "I think most people don't know this place exists. God, I can't believe I did that."

He stops short, eyes widening, and sinks to his haunches, and falls to his knees, clutching his head in his hands.

"Oh god, I can't believe I did that! He's gonna be furious."

Minoth sinks down beside him, pulls Malos in to rub soothing circles between his shoulder blades. "That's only if he finds out it was you. You were well hidden, and you disappeared before he could see you."

"He might ask the cooks," Malos protests, wide-eyed and beginning to tremble, and Architect help him but Minoth has never seen a Blade so undignified with fear. What the hell does Amalthus do to this man?

An idea comes to him. "Malos, do you have anything you need from the tower?"

Malos uncurls from him, wraps his arms around his knees and shakes his head. 

"Can you teleport for long distances?" Minoth wonders, and Malos rakes a hand through his hair.

"How long?"

Minoth grabs his hand. "Could you get us off this Titan?"

Malos purses his lips and trains his eyes on the ground, and takes a shaky breath. "I can try."

They end up on a vast Titan with beautiful rolling hills and rocky quarries and meadows of wildflowers and a sprawling forest; Minoth loves it immediately.

Well. Not immediately. 

The moment they arrive, Malos drops him out of his arms and sways dangerously; Minoth steadies him, horrified by the way Malos flinches in his grip. He shakes hard, panting and leaning into Minoth, and Minoth wraps an arm around his waist.

“Malos,” Minoth pleads, sinks to the ground with him and leans against a rock ledge, pulling Malos down to rest his head on his shoulder. Malos groans and buries his face in the crook of Minoth’s neck.

He doesn’t stop trembling for hours, clinging to Minoth and whimpering softly when Minoth cards a hand through his hair.

“Malos, I’m sorry,” Minoth sighs, buries his face in the man’s hair. “I’m sorry, I won’t ask that of you again. Will you be alright?”

Malos raises his head briefly. “Is there anything nearby?”

“No, we’re alone,” Minoth promises gently and cradles his face in his hands. Malos shivers, eyes fluttering shut as Minoth rubs the pad of his thumb along his cheekbone. 

“Wake me in a few hours,” he says, burying his face in Minoth’s chest. Minoth hums, drops a soft kiss onto his forehead, and Malos blinks at him in surprise.

Minoth laughs quietly. “Take a nap.”

Malos wakes hours later, bleary-eyed and making noises that have Minoth biting his knuckles. 

“Sleep well?” he whispers, laughs softly into Malos’ hair. Malos yawns and curls back into him with a satisfied hum.

“Should we… keep going?”

Minoth hums and rubs circles into the nape of his neck. “If you’re sure you’re well rested.”

Malos yawns and hums an affirmative; they set off in the direction of the quarry. 

They make it roughly a mile in before a monster the size of a house attacks them; a young woman and her Blade come to their aid, and together, they take the creature down in seconds. Their teamwork is impeccable; Minoth can’t help admiring the way the woman and her Blade seamlessly trade weapons, weaving gracefully between the thing’s legs and around one another, and the cocky grin the woman gives her Blade speaks of years of camaraderie. 

“Thank you,” the woman says warmly, wiping her Blade’s sword on the grass at her feet. He makes a face. “We couldn’t have done it without you; I’m Lora, and this is Jin.”

“Minoth,” Minoth says and shakes the proffered hand. Malos leans heavily on the hilt of his sword, looking ashy, and glances at the newcomers.

“Malos,” he says tiredly, breathing hard; he straightens himself and clutches at his chest, and Minoth bites his tongue as he winces. “Thanks for… ah, thanks for helping us.”

“Malos, you need to rest,” Minoth snaps, steadies him, and Lora and Jin trade a glance. 

“Let’s go,” Lora says. “We’ll need to see Haze. She can heal you up, I hope.”

Haze does a remarkable job; she’s gentle and firm at once and astonishingly adept at her craft, and within moments, Malos is biting down on a moan of relief as the tightness in his chest subsides and his ether regulates itself.

“You’ll want to rest up for a while,” she suggests, taking his sword and leaning it against a nearby tree. “I’ve regulated your ether flow, but you need to sleep. You look dead on your feet, and your heart rate’s worrying me a little. Jin, could you get me some tea?”

Jin rummages in a bag and hands her a bag of dried leaves; Lora sets a pot to brew over a little tin box, and Haze sits beside Malos, leaning against him and letting him lean into her in turn.

Minoth sits beside Lora. “Nice little camp you’ve got here.”

“It serves its purpose,” Jin says mildly, glancing over at Malos and Minoth. “Your Core Crystals… they’re different. Do you mind me asking why?”

“He’s the Aegis,” Minoth says quietly; he’s not entirely sure if he can trust these people, but at this point, what option do they have? They’ve given them rest, and helped them, and he wants to be able to trust them. “I… am a Flesh Eater.”

Jin pales; Minoth resolves to ask him about it later. 

“Another Aegis?” Haze asks, eyes widening as she glances back at Malos’ chest. Malos reflexively clasps his hands over his sternum.

“Other Aegis?” Minoth repeats, and Haze purses her lips. 

“Come on, then,” she tells them. “Let’s go meet the others.”

Chapter Text

“Another Aegis?” Addam exclaims at Lora’s whispered introduction, and Hugo snaps up, hand flying to his mouth as Malos enters the tent. Minoth flanks him, and Lora sits beside Hugo. 

“I’m Minoth,” Minoth introduces himself, “and this is Malos. We appreciate your hospitality.”

Malos nods his assent, glances around the tent. Addam gives them a warm smile. 

"Come, have a seat."

“Tell me, Malos,” Hugo demands, leaning forward across the table and catching Malos’ eye. “How is life for an Aegis? Is it so different from that of your average person?”

“It’s pretty dull,” Malos admits, resting his cheek against his palm and tapping his nails against the tabletop. “I spent most of my days serving as a soldier; my Driver never let me accompany him into battle, and he ignored me, for the most part. I can’t speak for other people.”

Hugo hums, apparently satisfied. Lora looks a bit sad; Haze hovers around her, and Malos can't help but notice how identical they seem.

The tent flap opens; a pair of young women enter, flanked by a more mechanical-looking Blade, and the shorter of the women stops in her tracks as soon as she sees Malos.

“Oh, my god,” she blurts, claps a hand to her mouth. She stares him up and down, nudges the woman beside her. “You’re…”

Malos eyes her, curiosity compelling him to rise from his seat and go to meet her. She’s shorter than he by a head and a half, slim and fit, clearly used to fighting, with long, wild blonde hair and golden eyes that glitter with a menacing light. He thinks he likes her, so far.

“Your Core Crystal,” he murmurs, worries his lower lip between his teeth and brings his hand to rest over his own. “It’s green.”

“Addam didn’t tell me about you,” she says, sounding a bit like she’s pouting. “But you… you’re clearly another Aegis. I didn’t think anyone else like me existed.”

Malos nods, throat going tight at the notion. “We just arrived at your camp,” he explains. “Minoth and I - he’s over there, talking to Jin and Hugo. I appreciate you letting us stay.”

“I’m not letting you do anything,” she snorts, but there’s no malice behind it. “I’m Mythra.”

“Malos,” Malos says, hovers awkwardly, and Mythra grumbles and shakes his hand hard enough to rattle his arm. 

“I am Brighid, Blade to His Majesty the Emperor of Mor Ardain” the Blade beside her says warmly, gives him a soft smile. Her hair is nice, violet and teal and flickering with ether, like it’s got a life of its own. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Aegis.”

“Emperor?” Malos wonders, and Mythra jabs a thumb in Hugo’s direction.

Malos’ jaw unhinges itself a little. He doesn’t quite register Minoth at his side, taking his hand and rubbing his thumb over the back of his wrist.

Minoth says mildly, kindly, “Malos isn’t great with authority, Your Majesty. I hope you’ll forgive him; he doesn’t mean to be rude.” 

Malos takes a deep breath, tries to look Hugo in the eye and be civil. He knows that with every passing moment he remains silent, he will seem ruder, more standoffish.

He can’t bring himself to speak. Everyone’s eyes are on him, expectant, drilling into him, and he tries and fails to catch his breath.

“Malos!” someone says from beside him; Addam, he thinks. Minoth rushes to his side, catches him, and Malos realizes belatedly that oh - he’d been about to hit his head on the corner of Hugo’s table.

“You said he wasn’t good with authority,” Lora reprimands Minoth. “Not that he panics whenever an authority figure is around him. Has he always been this bad?”

Minoth kneels beside Malos, steadies him and folds an arm around his shoulders. “He’s... we both had bad experiences with our Driver. The same man awakened us; I’ve only known Malos a few weeks, but I can safely say that our Driver has not been kind to either of us.”

“That’s awful,” Haze murmurs. “For both of you, I mean. I can’t imagine Lady Lora ever treating me unkindly.”

“He...” Malos begins, voice cracking and hoarse, and Brighid stoops to hand him a glass of water. He accepts it gratefully. “Our Driver knew how much Minoth hated him and his company, and yet he never granted him a second of reprieve. I’m surprised Minoth didn’t try to stage any accidents.”

“Believe me, I wanted to,” Minoth sneers. “Actually, the moment I met you, you interrupted a nice daydream I was having of pushing him from the tower window.”

Malos looks almost wistful at his words. 

He groans softly, suddenly, leans forward in his lap and clutches at his chest. Minoth steadies him, glances helplessly up at Haze. 

“Do you... get these chest pains a lot?” she asks gently, pries Malos’ hand away to leak healing ether into his Core and the muscles beneath. He bites his lip to hold in a whimper; Haze’s ether loosens a tight knot, and he hisses and grits his jaw. “Architect, Malos, we’re taking you to the hot springs tomorrow.”

He pants quietly, stares at the floor. Jin sets down a carrot he’s peeling and comes to kneel beside him.

“Do they last long, these pains?”

Malos glances at him, lets Jin lean into his side and tilt his head against his shoulder. He closes his eyes, and his bangs fall out of his eyes to reveal a bright blue Core.

“Not really. I… they only started today, actually,” Malos says and splays a hand over his chest. “Minoth, do you think this is because of - you know?”

Minoth hums and shrugs. “Could be. I mean, you almost passed out on me.”

“Mind telling me what happened?” Jin asks softly, gazing up at the ceiling of the tent. 

“Malos teleported the two of us here from Indol,” Minoth says. Malos hums in agreement.

Lora startles; Aegaeon, the mechanical-looking Blade, glances up from a charm he's crafting, and Brighid rather inelegantly spits out a mouthful of tea. Jin nearly falls into his lap and knocks himself askew trying to right himself.

“ Teleported ?” Addam exclaims. 

“I can't teleport," Mythra says, sounding almost jealous. “I… didn’t even know that was possible for Blades.”

”I thought it was pretty par for the course for Blades,” Malos admits, sits up shakily. “I’ve been doing it for years. It’s one of the first things I learned to do when Am- when I was awoken.”

“It’s weird,” Mythra insists, but she keeps glancing over to the opposite side of the tent and fingering her core, like she thinks maybe she’ll disappear and reappear if she wills it.

“Malos,” Addam says from his spot at the table. “If you’re up to it, would you mind showing us what exactly you’re capable of? You, too, Minoth.”

Minoth yawns. “Absolutely, but it’ll have to wait. I’m in no shape to spend much ether, much less channel arts, and Malos needs to rest. That stunt earlier really took it out of him.”

“That’s fine, then,” Addam allows with a jovial wave of his hand. “Get rested up, you two, and we’ll test you tomorrow.”

Training with Addam, Malos decides, is much more enjoyable than training with the monks.

It’s fun, he gets to burn off energy, and there’s the added bonus of not having to worry about being reprimanded for every missed strike or countered blow.

Addam rushes at him with a whoop, and Mythra’s sword smashes into his own with a force that makes Malos backpedal and skid in the dust. 

“You’re strong,” Addam grins, and ducks from an overhead blow. Malos growls, ducks and weaves behind a punch and slides between Addam’s legs to catch his ankles and trip him.

“Like I said, I trained a lot,” he laughs, a little breathless with the force of his maneuver, and gasps as Addam knocks the wind out of him with a well-aimed kick. 

“Still, those chest pains must be irritating,” Addam muses. Malos rolls onto his side, arms shaking as he rights himself. “Do you think… are they debilitating in battle?”

“I can’t say,” Malos admits. “I’ve never experienced them in battle. They didn’t start while we were fighting that… what did Lora call it?”

“A Slithe Jagron,” Addam says mildly. “Come, I think we’ve had enough. It looks like they focused on your strength, rather than stamina, on Indol, am I right?”

“Alright,” Malos sighs, rakes a hand through his hair. “Fine, yeah.”

“Thanks for the match,” Addam tells him, gives him a warm smile and claps him on the shoulder. Malos stares after him as they head back to camp.

Jin and Aegaeon prepare dinner while Malos and Mythra talk. Gradually, everyone settles around them, listening to their tales, and as Mythra regales them all with the story of how she singlehandedly defeated an entire colony of Gogol, Malos finds himself fascinated. He can easily imagine this fierce, tiny woman making life hell for a pack of monsters.

“So there I was,” she says, eyes wide with pride. “And the leader of the pack was coming at me, you know, big hulking ugly monster. And I hit it with my Lightning Buster, yeah? And they all went running .”

“Very nice, Mythra,” Addam snorts, and snickers into his hand. Brighid grins. 

“Well,” Lora announces, and beside her, Haze yawns and stretches. “If it’s all the same, I think I’ll turn in for the night. See you all.”

“Good night, Lora,” Jin says, kisses her cheek. She returns the gesture and takes Haze’s hand in her own as they exit the tent.

Mythra yawns. “I think I’m gonna go to bed too. Night.”

She rises, taps Brighid impatiently on the shoulder. “C’mon, I’m tired.”

Everyone retires slowly; Hugo is the last to go, and Malos and Minoth are left alone by the campfire. 

They sit in silence for a while; Minoth takes Malos’ hand at one point, turns it over in his own and lets his thumb slide along the bones of his fingers. Malos shivers.

“Malos,” Minoth murmurs at length, and falls silent, like he doesn’t quite know what to say. 

A breeze stirs the mouth of the tent. Cold air flutters around them, and Malos shivers again, wraps his arms around himself, and Minoth pries them away and pulls Malos close.

“Come on, let’s get closer to the fire,” he suggests. They do.

Malos relaxes against him, grows warm and pliant in his arms; Minoth can feel his ether prickle in the air and the edges of his ribs as he breathes, the tip of Malos’ nose pressed into the crook of his neck, the slow, plodding beat of Malos’ heart. Malos takes a deep breath.

“They’re nice,” Minoth says at length.

“Mmm,” is all Malos contributes, and Minoth hums and falls silent in wait of an explanation.

Finally, Malos raises his head and rolls onto his back.

“No one’s ever been this kind to me without an ulterior motive. It’s going to take time to get used to.”

“I know what you mean,” Minoth grumbles, fingers the scar over his eye and tries not to wonder if Malos has the same nightmares he does, if he wakes up screaming or lays awake for nights on end.

“Let’s try to sleep for now.”

Chapter Text

Morning brings birdsong and the scent of something sweet; Mythra unintentionally wakes Minoth by loudly and dramatically arguing with Brighid over who’s the better cook, and should thusly be allowed to prepare lunch. Someone - Jin, perhaps - groans in frustration and snaps that they’re both terrible, and that their discussion is at an end.

“Morning already?” Minoth mutters, yawns and arches his back into Malos’ touch. “When did we go to bed?”

“Late,” is all Malos says. He hums, pulls Minoth close again. “I don’t want to get up yet.” 

As luck would have it, Brighid overhears.

She bustles into the tent, hair bouncing behind her as she rushes to them. “Come on, sleepyheads. It’s nearly noon!”

Minoth bolts with a startled grunt. “ Noon ?”

Malos stirs beneath him, makes a sound that might be a whine in the back of his throat. “Why didn’t you wake us?”

“Addam thought it wiser to let you rest,” Brighid says. “Lora was a bit worried, but Addam and I convinced her to leave you be.”

Malos grunts noncommittally. “What’s the plan for today?”

Brighid shrugs, cocks her hip. “Haze mentioned going to the hot springs, did she not? How’s your chest?”

“Better,” Malos sighs, gently pushes Minoth from him and rolls onto his side. “Is everyone ready to go?”

Minoth gives a lazy thumbs-up; Malos nods.

“Meet us by the entryway,” Brighid says. 

Jin hefts a drawstring rucksack (stolen from another merc, fifteen years ago, while the woman had been trying to kill Lora and claim him). A towel for himself, ice water for Lora, a book. Haze surveys her own pack, and Lora flips her own towel over her shoulder with a little yawn.

“Are they coming?” Hugo wonders, and Aegaeon immediately leans in the direction of the communal tent and brightens. 

“Hello, Brighid,” he pipes up warmly, steps aside to let her pass. “Minoth. Aegis.”

“Malos,” Malos corrects, frowning. 

“It’s okay,” Mythra snorts, goes to meet him halfway. “He calls me Aegis too, even though I’ve asked him about a hundred times not to.”

“Architect have mercy,” Minoth grumbles. “Well, is everyone ready to go?”

“Aegaeon will be staying behind,” Addam says, glancing to Aegaeon for confirmation. He nods stoically, bows to Hugo and makes his way back to the campfire pit at the center of their camp.

“Let’s go, then,” Haze exclaims, and Malos coughs delicately at the sight of her nearly bouncing in excitement. “I want to see the saltwater pond, and the jelly lake, and the… oh, there’s so much I want to do!”

“She’s excitable,” Minoth remarks, and Malos fails to quiet a snicker.

“That’s Haze for you,” Lora laughs. “Come on, Jin!”

Lora, for her part, is busy kissing Haze breathless.

"They can wait a few minutes more," she breathes, pulls Haze in again and bites down on a groan as Haze cups the swell of her ass. 

"If you say so," Haze allows, gives her a crooked smile and presses another kiss to her mouth. "I love you."

Lora hums sweetly, kisses her again and again, and before long, they entirely forget why they're at the springs to begin with. 

Hugo and Addam fare no better; they get undressed and halfway to the springs before Hugo decides to stop him in his tracks with a kiss to the neck.

“Hugo, we, ah,” Addam begins, clears his throat. Hugo hums, kisses him again. “We’re in public, my friend.”

“So we are,” Hugo agrees flippantly, steps back to give him space. Addam is flushed, shivering.

“Shall we continue in the springs?” Hugo suggests, and Addam turns the color of Haze’s pants.

Hugo snickers.

“You’ve never been to a hot spring before?” Jin asks, astonished. Minoth shrugs.

“I’ve never done a lot of things,” Malos admits. “Like, uh, going to hot springs.”

Jin makes a face. “Alright, get undressed and we’ll meet outside, I suppose.”

They do just that; Minoth finds a corner and turns his back on them, and Malos ducks behind a screen to disrobe and fold a towel around his waist, and Jin wishes they’d stop stealing glances at one another and hurry up. 

“Malos, we’ll be outside,” Minoth informs him, and Jin waves goodbye. Malos mumbles an indistinct reply. He can’t seem to tear his eyes from their receding forms, nor does his heart seem inclined to slow in the near future. He wonders what Haze would make of that.

The screen hisses across the floor as he slides it back; steam billows in his face, leaves damp trails on his skin. Stepping outside is unpleasantly cold.

“Hello, Malos,” Minoth pipes up from inside the pool, gives him a warm smile. “Took you long enough, hm?”

He leans back against the wall of the spring, arms crossed behind his head, hair falling around his shoulders. Jin is submerged as deeply as he can be without clearing his nose, eyes heavily lidded, hair tied up with a ribbon that looks like it might be Lora’s.

“Do stop bickering,” Addam groans. Hugo rolls his eyes.

“We’re not bickering,” Minoth retorts mildly, sidles a bit closer to Jin. “Come in, the water’s lovely.”

Malos descends with a hiss as heat seeps into his skin.

Hugo and Addam trade a glance; Minoth purses his lips as they, by unspoken agreement, step out of the spring and head for the changing room, and as soon as they’re out of earshot, he murmurs something that sounds suspiciously like “ those two ”.

“They’re… not very subtle,” Jin agrees, shifts to lean against the wall as well. He glances between Malos and Minoth, looking very much like he has something to say but has thought better of it.

“What?” Malos demands. Jin shakes his head.

“Mind carrying on where we left off last night?” Minoth offers, tilts back to float on water and watch the clouds above them. “Malos?”

“I think I’ll be leaving, too,” Jin complains, scowling. Minoth scoffs and swats him on the arm.

“Nothing like that , you buffoon. I simply kissed him.”

“Oh,” Jin says at the same time Malos blurts, “Are you saying you want to kiss me some more?”

“Yes,” Minoth offers in reply to them both. Jin’s jaw goes a bit slack. Malos goes a bit red on the tips of his ears and his cheekbones.

Minoth backstrokes to meet him. “I like your hair like this, you know.”

“Wet?” Malos asks.

“Down,” Minoth clarifies, flips onto his stomach and wraps his arms around Malos’ shoulders. “Makes you look a bit softer.”

“Ah,” Malos says intelligently. Minoth kisses him; his stomach flips and his heart stutters over a beat or three, and Minoth hums and presses close. 

“You two are unbelievable,” Jin groans. “Your ether’s giving me a headache. Go kiss somewhere else.”

“You could always join in,” Minoth suggests primly. Jin coughs.

“That’s alright. You have fun.”

“Let’s go out for dinner,” Haze suggests later, once they’re home and gathered outside the tent. “I’m sure Jin and Aegaeon could do with a break.”

“Cooking isn’t terribly hard work,” Aegaeon argues, but beyond that, he and Jin put up a minimal fight. 

The inn they choose is small and warm, tucked neatly between two mansions and perpendicular to a tailor’s. The sign above the door reads The Wily Volff in blocky golden letters.

Lora pushes the door open; a small silver bell chimes, and the owner glances up from behind the bar.

“Oh, if it isn’t His Majesty,” they exclaim, wiping floury hands on a grimy apron and hissing when the problem only worsens. “Be only a minute, Milord, we’ll have something fit for a king on the table in no time! And for  the Lord Addam’s friends, too.”

“Something simple would just as soon work,” Hugo says. “We don’t expect anything particularly rich, only a hot meal, isn’t that right, everyone?”

They all give varying nods and murmurs of agreement.

Dinner is a lovely affair; Addam orders a round of buloofo ruby stew for everyone, and banter and jokes abound. Hugo buys a round of wine, and they all sit back and enjoy dinner, with Lora praising the stew and Brighid praising the wine, and Mythra saying she could outdo both.

“Darling, no offense, but the only way your stew could outdo this one was if the cook was trying to kill us,” Brighid snorts and quickly snatches her wine out of reach before Mythra can tip it into her lap.

“I think,” Haze requests after a moment of peaceful silence, “I’d like to take you on tomorrow, Minoth. You seem like a very capable fighter.”

“Fine by me,” Minoth says, spearing another cube of meat with his fork. “A spar would do me good.”

“Malos?” Mythra pipes in, sizes him up eagerly. “Wanna have a match with me later on?”

Malos hums, rests his chin in his hand. “I was actually gonna turn in for the night.”

“Tomorrow then,” she asks, and he nods and smiles warmly. She’s certainly eager. Like a kid, somehow. 

Addam and Hugo flag down the cook and hand him a hundred G each, ignoring his stunned protests. Everyone slowly flocks out of the inn, with Addam and Hugo holding hands and Brighid’s arm wrapped around Mythra’s waist.

The walk home is companionable and calm. Watching his friends like this, Minoth can’t help a grin of delight at the realization that they finally, finally belong.