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Kissing Sting is like opening a window to sunlight
It’s Sabertooth’s first victory at the Grand Magic Games, and he’s standing with Sting at the head of it all. Their fists are raised high in victory and the thunder of the crowd drowns out his own thoughts. Sting’s there beside him, all gold and white in the summer sun. They walk out of the ring and Sting flashes him a bright smile that whites out Rogue’s thoughts. Orga, Rufus, and Dobengal are moving ahead of them; they are eager for the celebration back at the hotel. But Rogue’s happy to stand here in the shadows with Sting, to take steal a moment alone.
The roar of the crowd is fading, but Rogue can still feel it in his blood. He thinks that Sting can feel it too, because he’s grinning. It’s a real smile, the kind that makes it hard for Rogue to breathe, where his eyes crinkle and his head tilts to the left. He reaches out a gloved hand for Rogue’s, and Rogue takes his hand because he can’t deny that smile anything. He’s never been able to. He doesn’t want to.
Sting is so confident; it’s in every line of his body: the angle of his chin, the position of his shoulders, and the curve of his smile. It makes Rogue feel confident too. There’s no hesitation in Sting as he pulls Rogue to him. There’s nothing but fizzing, crackling energy. There’s no pause because Sting can’t imagine a world where Rogue doesn’t want him, and Rogue can’t imagine it either.
Sting kisses him, and Rogue can still feel the smile on his lips. He should be surprised that Sting is kissing him, but it doesn’t feel surprising, it feels inevitable. After all, shadows and light were never meant to exist apart.
Kissing Sting is even better than he thought it would be. It’s like light pouring into his soul, and he leans into it without meaning to like a cat in the sun. He tangles one of his hands in that messy blonde hair, and it feels like it belongs there.
Sting pulls back; he’s still smiling. And Rogue is smiling too. “I’ve wanted to do that for years,” Sting says. For a moment, Rogue loses himself in ocean eyes.
“Me too,” Rogue responds. This time, he’s the one who kisses Sting. Sting’s arms are around him and warmth spreads through his whole body. His eyelids fall closed, but he can still see Sting’s light. Maybe he’s glowing, maybe it’s just how Rogue imagines him. Sting’s mouth his hot on his and Rogue’s lips part happily at Sting’s insistence. He tastes like honey and white flowers, and Rogue is falling into the bright white.
When Sting pulls away, Rogue can feel Sting’s ragged breath in his lips and knows that Sting is crashing just as hard as he is.
“Rogue.” They’re so close that Rogue can taste his name on Sting’s lips and it’s never sounded so good.
Rogue has been orbiting a star, and now he’s falling in. And he loves it. But, his brain is turning back on and telling him that they’ll be missed. That someone will come for them.
“We should go,” he manages. He hopes that Sting can feel his reluctance. But, he shouldn’t have worried because they are two halves of the same coin. He feels Sting’s reluctance in the slow way that his hands slide across Rogue’s back and down his arms until they finally separate. Then they are two beings again and not one.
“Later,” Sting says. His smile has a flash of fangs, but it sounds like a perfect promise.
“Later,” Rogue echoes. Together, always together, they turn back to the hallway and walk out into the street.
Kissing Rogue is like coming home.
Sting’s world has been falling apart; he can’t get his feet under him. It tilted off its axis when he and Rogue lost to Natsu and it’s just been tilting further and further with losing Lector and the games and then the dragons.
They’re at the ball, and Minerva is gone, and he’s the guild master, and the world is changing faster than he can manage. But Rogue is beside him, constant and steadying, so maybe he can manage. Rogue leads Sting out to one of the unoccupied balconies.
Sting’s spinning the champagne glass in his hand, but he’s watching Rogue. He looks good, but he always looks good. The moon shines in his hair and paints his skin silver. His eyes look black in the low light and the lights reflected in them look like stars in the sky. Sting can’t look away from Rogue; it’s as pointless fighting gravity.
Loving Rogue for the last few years has been loving in the shadows. Kisses behind closed doors. Loving where no one can see. It’s been necessary, but Sting can’t help but want to step into the light. It’s in his nature.
So Sting doesn’t stop himself as he reaches out for Rogue. There’s a familiar smile on Rogue’s face, and it draws him in. Rogue doesn’t pull away as Sting pulls him into an embrace even though anyone could see.
“I don’t want to hide anymore,” Sting whispers.
“Then we won’t,” Rogue is calm. It steadies Sting. He can be confident when Rogue is here. His light can only shine because of Rogue’s shadows. Rogue’s arms are around him, and it feels like home. Rogue’s body is warm against his and it’s like being embraced by a warm summer night. Sting wants to lose himself in the summer sky.
Sting kisses Rogue, and everything is falling into place. Sting melts into Rogue as if he’s the one made of shadows. And the shadows embrace him; he’s always welcome here. He belongs here, here in Rogue’s embrace. Sting has the whole universe in his arms and happily yields himself to it. Rogue’s tongue slides past his lips. The kiss tastes like champagne and Sting is becoming effervescent. His skin sparks where they touch, flashing like distant supernovae.
For one long moment, they are one entity, and there is no Sting and no Rogue. But Rogue pulls away, and Sting settles back into his own skin. He feels more balanced. The light is only bright in the shadows, and Sting is confident because Rogue is by his side.
“Sting,” Rogue’s voice is low. Sting can feel the vibrations of the sound in Rogue’s body. “I’m here for you.”
Sting kisses him because he has to because he can’t resist.
“I can’t do this without you,” he whispers against Rogue’s lips.
“You don’t have to.”
“I love you, Rogue.”
“I love you too, You are the light of my life.” Sting’s entire body goes warm, and he feels like he’s floating. He’s lost all contact with the earth and only Rogue is keeping him here. Rogue presses a butterfly kiss to his lips.
They turn together back to the room, and Sting’s worries seem much smaller now.