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Nozel had to fight to keep his expression calm. It was the latest he had ever stayed out, and he was the farthest he had ever been from exhaustion. His heart was pattering in his chest like the wings of a hummingbird, and he clutched the tall, thin glass in his hand tightly. He imagined a bird would feel the same way he did, then: like he was being buried alive. Meoraleona, Fuegoleon, and a group of lesser nobles were gathered in the Vermillion's wine cellar. Hearty wooden barrels held in hardwood crosslink shelves, like giant wine racks, lined the walls, making the space especially claustrophobic. The scent of the seasoned wood and fine wine was tainted by the sweat of half a dozen drunken teens.
Nozel had learned already, from a very short and embarrassing contest, that he wasn't a "drinker," and so when Mearoleona had offered them drinks in the dining room, and they had so impishly selected various mismatched glasses from the kitchen, he had picked the thinnest glass he could find, hoping its height would look impressive. That's where it started. Fuegoleon, ever the guard to his virtue and voice of reason, had been suspicious about the source of the wine, but if anyone could convince him, it was Mearoleona, practically shoving a bottle down his throat and not letting him breath until it was empty. The rest of their friends had followed suit as much out of a sincere desire as out of fear that they would receive the same treatment.
Then, when the wine had kicked in, and Fuegoleon was less critical of his sister's nefarious plans, they had come down here. The gaggle had watched as, with rogue-like expertise, Mearoleona selected a barrel and pierced it with an expert, mana-empowered jab. The hole, as wide around as her middle finger, was fit with a spicket to the wonderment of their cohort. Fuegoleon, though he managed a serious, almost disapproving expression during the criminal act, clapped when the alcohol flowed out, and all the other boys joined in.
Nozel felt like a stranger in a strange land, clutching his glass and sipping it only when others were watching. What kind of trouble will we be in if someone finds us? Why did Mearoleona do this to us? he thought, sure that he was the only one in his right mind. He felt that she could feel his lack of belief in the cause. Her eyes burned into his and he would inevitably look away. He couldn’t help it. Even with his caution, his resolve was weakened by the drink. The unsteadiness it put in his mind was part of the reason for his anxiety.
“Nozel!”
Nozel nearly jumped when Fuegoleon’s voice broke through the fog in his mind. He turned to see the Vermillion’s face inches from his own. The light dusting of red looked healthy on his cheeks. He stood tall, and his smile was breathtakingly confident. Nozel’s heart went from a bird to a fish in his chest, leaping.
“We’re all in this together! Loosen up and drink,” Fuegoleon commanded in an echo of what his sister had said when she had caught him in a headlock and poured the wine down his throat. He even threw an arm around Nozel’s shoulders, and Nozel feared he was going to meet the same fate.
He had no time to reply before the lip of Fuego’s mug was in his mouth, and he hastily put his hand on the mug for some control. Still, he nearly choked when he tipped it back, he was so distracted by the way his and his rival’s fingers overlapped to hold it. That one glug was the biggest sip he had taken all night.
Fuego laughed and pulled the mug away- really pulled it away; Nozel hadn’t realized he had clutched onto it so hard. “Woah, loose enough.”
Nozel couldn’t believe how quickly his mood had changed. Maybe he was a drinker- just a social one. Loosen up, why didn’t I think of that? The thought sounded like it should be ironic in his head. He wanted to say it out loud just like he had thought it, but he only let out a giggly yelp and muttered, “Yeah.”
“Hey,” Mearoleona’s voice cut through the teenage nonsense with relative ease. “Let’s go.”
The boys looked at her with stupid confusion. “... Where?” Fuegoleon finally asked, eyes narrowed suspiciously.
“To the lake.”
“The lake?” he breathed. His eyes widened in disbelief, and he released Nozel to approach her. “Why?” It was the middle of winter. The lake was surely frozen. What fun was that?
“You didn’t really think that this was for fun, did you?” Mearoleona declared, her mana flaring. “You pathetic boys! This is part of your training! You have to be ready for anything, in any state!”
They stared at her, not understanding.
Nozel lifted his chin and said, with as much cold confidence as he could manage, “Of course. We are future magic knights. We can handle anything.”
Not to be outdone, Fuegoleon lifted his now flaming fist in the air. “Let’s go, future Crimson Lion Kings!”
“And Silver Eagles!” Nozel added, voice cracking.
There was a confident rumble from the boys, declaring their prospective squads, and Mearoleona looked on with a condescending kind of amusement. “Great. Let’s go.”
Nozel didn’t remember getting to the lake, but he did remember that it was a low point in the evening. Despite that, it still did not sink in as some sort of grueling training. The Vermillions had heat and energy that no one else in their troupe did, and the others boys clustered around them like bees on a fruity drink at disney world, and behaved just as sensibly. Some of the boys had grown courageous in their inebriation, and, as they crested the path and oversaw the night sky shining on the frozen water, Ben Benfunk hit on Mearoleona. Nozel remembered distinctly that this was a horrible idea. She looked like she would pick up a boy and throw him onto the lake hard enough to break the ice, but at such an angle that he would skip across it instead and not be her problem. Nozel knew in his heart that this would be the fate of any boy that approached her, and so it was a great shock to him when she just punched him into a snow drift.
The flurry of activity that followed was a blur, but as they had administered the best of drunken teen medicine, Mearoleona had disappeared. Holding a bloody glove to his bleeding nose, Ben fought back tears.
“Are you crying?” Nozel scoffed.
“She broke my nose!” He yelled back, face rosey with mortification and indignation.
“She left us here,” Kyle said, staring back into the woods, down the path they had followed.
“Are you kidding me?” Rokken cried indignantly. “My parents will be so mad if we aren’t home before the sun’s up!”
“That’s enough complaining!” Fuegoleon declared, puffing his chest. “We agreed to this challenge, and we will see it through!” He pointed emphatically across the lake. “We can return quickly if we cross the lake.”
“You’re drunk,” Ben said grumpily, on account of his broken nose.
“You’re a coward,” Nozel retorted, looking down his nose at the other boy, who was still sitting in the snow drift. “What are you going to do, walk the entire path back yourself?”
The boys exchanged a look, and Ben started to haul himself out of the snow drift.
“That wasn’t a suggestion!” Fuego called after them as they trudged down the path. “Silva was mocking you!” His mana flared, but his voice sounded less confident as he called after them, “You’re really going back that way?”
“Very charismatic, future wizard king,” Nozel said. His expression was cool, but he felt absolutely giddy seeing Fuegoleon fumble his usual control over their group of friends.
Fuego leered at him. “You didn’t encourage them, either.”
“I wasn’t trying to.” He turned and strolled toward the lake. “If you’re coming, you better calm down, or your mana will melt the ice.”
I AM a great social drinker, Nozel thought, practically prancing on the ice. A nice layer of snow padded its surface, and it wasn’t so slippery. He twirled around to see Fuegoleon picking his way across it more cautiously. Poor Fuego! He lamented facetiously as he sneered at him. His rival’s heavier frame had made it crack near a thin spot, where the ice had been a darker tone, on the other end. Now they were nearly across, but he was still stepping lightly. Tipping his chin up and closing his eyes impetuously, Nozel said, “You know, if I had known you were so scared of falling in, I would have left you behind a long time ago. Your pace is absolutely atrocious.”
He had expected a reaction. They had been bickering the entire trip. Fuegoleon was in a poor mood, and that made it all the more fun to pick on him. But there wasn’t a reaction, no comeback, not even a grumble. Narrowing his eyes suspiciously, Nozel turned just in time for a snowball to nail him in the face.
“Ha!” Fuegoleon laughed, “Your dodging is atro-!”
Nozel sprang at him. With an extra boost of mana, he sent him sprawling onto his back. A flurry of snow and ice clouded their scuffle.
“That’s just what I expected from a Silva!” Fuegoleon roared, looping his arm around Nozel’s neck and one shoulder in a clumsy chokehold.
Nozel shoved snow down his coat and flopped free. “What are you implying? You’re the one who tried to ambush me!” He pounced at Fugoleon’s chest. Fuegoleon grabbed him and tossed him over his shoulder, though he fell back himself. It wasn’t much of a fight- just a drunken wrassle. Nozel was sure he had never been so close to winning a physical fight with Fuegoleon before, and he was elated until-
Fuegoleon slammed his shoulders against ice. “Got you!” He laughed, grinning down at Nozel. His voice carried rolling over the empty lake and the quiet of the snow. But another sound arose to overtake it.
CRACK
Both of their eyes went wide and they froze. Nozel saw, on either side of him, stretching across the lake, the ice cracking. Their breath fogged between them as they waited for the echo to die.
“... It’s okay,” Nozel ventured, only to grimace as the ice beneath him groaned. He realized that Fuegoleon’s hands were starting to get hotter against his shoulders. “Fuego,” he whispered, “Relax or you’ll make it worse.”
Fuegoleon took a breath. “I’m okay.” He slowly shifted, trying to straighten. Both of them cringed when cracks spiderwebbed around them. He rolled slowly off Nozel instead, and they laid there, backs to the ice until it fell quiet again. “... We should crawl across.”
Nozel nodded. “We’re close to the shore.” He shifted slowly onto his belly and started to shimmy to the shore. Fuegoleon was doing the same, some distance away from him. The ice continued to creak beneath them, but they were making slow and steady progress. Nozel nearly had the snow-covered grass under hand when he heard the crash.
“Fuego!” He twisted to see what had happened. His friend clung to the edge of the ice, water sloshing up around him as it crumbled beneath him. His eyes bulged in shock as he went down. Fuegoleon disappeared so fast that before Nozel could even reach out a hand, he was staring at an empty hole in the ice. The Silva was so completely overwhelmed with emotion, it was as if he had no choice in what happened next. He jumped to his feet and, with no more thought, leapt after him.
The shock of the cold water was immediately, horrifically, catastrophically sobering, and Nozel had mistaken his serious mood while crawling across the ice as sobriety already. He pinched his eyes shut and latched onto the closest source of mana. He clutched onto Fuegoleon- some part of him, but he couldn’t tell what- and he kicked, trying to propel them upward. Nozel felt the light of the moon and prematurely gasped in a breath of icy water before they broke the surface. He held onto Fuego, too shocked by the cold to do more than sputter and hack while the Vermillion clawed through the several feet of ice separating them from the shore.
Fuegoleon shivered as he hauled them out. Even as his mana flared and his clothes started to steam, he was shaking from the cold. Standing stiffly at the edge of the water, he turned back to Nozel, who hadn't kept his grip during the ascent. “Come on, Nozel.”
His body felt like wet, freezing paper. Like the cheap paper cone from a snowcone. He couldn’t get his freezing limbs to coordinate and lift him off the ground, and his chest stung as he spat cold water into the snow. Nozel fought to raise a shaking hand, but he couldn’t make his fingers curl.
Fuegoleon grasped it and pulled him to his feet. Holding hands, they trudged onward. Nozel struggled to keep up with him, unable to feel his feet in the snow.
They had hardly left the lakeside behind when Fuegoleon looked back and realized he was dragging an ice cube. “You look awful!”
He couldn’t even respond over his wheezing and his teeth chattering, but he leered as venemously as he could. Whose fault is that?
Fuegoleon looked around. Woods grew thick in every direction but that of the lake, which was at their backs. “I know. Hold on.” He continued to drag Nozel through the snow. It took all Nozel could muster to stay on his feet. Finally, the Vermillion stopped, turned, and pulled off his cloak. He was shivering, but the cloak, even wet, was warm when he draped it over Nozel.
“W-w-w,” Nozel tried to ask. What are you doing?
“We need to get out of the snow.” Fuegoleon rubbed his arms as he kicked around in some tree roots. “It’s here somewhere,” he promised. His foot broke through, and he let out a triumphant whoop. He turned around and bear-hugged Nozel. If Nozel’s brain weren’t so frozen, he might have put up some resistance as the Vermillion dragged him to the ground and then-to his horror- shimmied them both under the ground, under the tree, into some kind of den.
The space was cramped, and Nozel was shivering so violently he couldn’t really assert himself, so Fuegoleon flopped the eldest Silva around like a body pillow until the boys were chest to chest. Nozel would have been embarrassed if he wasn’t so helplessly cold. The feeling returning to his limbs stung, and he was still shaking. He clenched his jaw so his teeth wouldn’t chatter and wrapped himself around Fuegoleon’s chest, intent on soaking up every drop of heat the Vermillion could put out. At this moment, that fiery mana was the most precious feeling in the world, and it only seemed to burn warmer when he squeezed Fuego tighter. He had to curl his legs up on either side of Nozel to pull them inside the den, even with his back to the wall, and Nozel relished another layer of the warmth at his back.
It didn’t occur to Nozel until he saw how flushed Fuegoleon’s face was looking at him that they were both still drunk. Had that cold shock not cured them? Is that not how drinking works?
Fuegoleon shifted to slip his hands under his cloak and put them against the thinner fabric of Nozel’s clothes. The heat radiated from his arms and hands, which wrapped all the way around the slender Silva and rested on his sides, just below his ribs. He pulled him closer, eyes lazily half lidded. “Is that helping?”
It wasn’t like he could have responded without his teeth clattering, but Fuegoleon was still searching his expression intently for an answer. And his hands were searching for the best spot to rest, running up and down Nozel’s sides. Nozel felt suddenly self-conscious under his gaze, which wasn’t his usual burning bright intelligence, but more of a smoldering glow. He closed his eyes to shut it out- it wasn’t helping him think straight.
But then again, neither was feeling Fuegoleon’s lips on his; it was a clumsy peck, and Nozel could taste the wine on his breath. Really, Fuego only caught his upper lip at first, but he adjusted without pulling away, slipping down to plant a more firm kiss. Being kissed by his rival felt like leaning over the oven as it opened and feeling the savory steam rise around him. Absolutely amazing, and Nozel was too disoriented to kiss back. All too quick, their lips parted and Nozel sucked in a sharp breath. He was aware now, of the heat and moisture rising off their clothes. The narrow entrance to the den did little to vent it.
“How about that?” He loosened the grip of just one arm, warm fingers trailing along Nozel’s back.
Nozel stared at him, bewildered and bristling. He had goosebumps from the cold, but he could only feel them under the Vermillion’s fingerstips. What is he talking about? Indignation flared in his chest. Is he teasing me? But looking into his purple eyes, he saw them completely devoid of trickery. There was something there, though. Determination, maybe? Concern?
And in he came for another kiss, and Nozel was no more prepared for it than he was for the first. This one was more confident, which did absolutely nothing to stop Nozel’s shuddering. Was Fuegoleon a really good kisser, or had wine lowered his standards? With how much his head was spinning, he was leaning toward the latter, but that didn’t ruin the experience any. When Fuegoleon started to retreat this time, Nozel managed to chase him. Fuego obliged the silent request and lingered until Nozel’s shivering stopped- long enough for Nozel to wonder if they had stepped beyond kissing to making out.
All at once, Nozel’s senses returned, and he jerked away, gasping like he had surfaced from under the ice again. He closed his eyes and buried his face in Fuegoleon’s chest. This has to be a trap! He’s teasing me! The heat had returned to his face. His mind was returning from the drunken abyss to scream about how little sense this made.
“You stopped shivering,” Fuegoleon declared, puffing his chest. “It helped after all! Can you talk, then? Where should I put my hands? I should have known you couldn’t make it back through that cold. Silvas aren’t so weather hardy, are they?” His hand slid up his back, up his neck, and through his wet hair in a way that went anticlimactically from flirty to roughly playful. He pawed half of Nozel’s face and rubbed his numb ear between his fingertips.
Ah, Nozel relaxed. Sure, he was being pet like a dog, but at least he understood now what Fuego was going for. Idiot. He’s not teasing me, he’s just… stupid. “At-at least we don’t drag p-p-people into holes.” Anger leaked out at his own stammering, and he looked up to leer into Fuegoleon’s purple eyes. “This is y-your fault! You broke the-”
Fuegoleon kissed him again. The hand cupping his cheek guided him in, and the arm still around his waist squeezed him tight. Holy shit. Nozel curled his fingers into the thick fabric of the Vermillion’s shirt. Maybe he’s not stupid. This time when he broke away, Nozel just stared up at him, heart pounding.
“Nozel…” Fuegoleon murmured, eyes half lidded.
Nozel swallowed a whimper. “Y-yes?”
He smiled gently; Nozel wasn’t looking at his mouth, just the crinkle of his eye. “... No homo.”
And the moment was gone. Face scrunching into a glare, Nozel head-butted him as hard as he could. Not perfectly effective since Nozel was left seeing stars, but at least Fuegoleon lurched away from him, muttering curses that wouldn’t have come so easily if he was sober. “You ungrateful-!”
“You ignorant worm!” Nozel spat back. They tried to fight, but the cave was too cramped, and all their struggling did was bring down clods of dirt on their heads. There wasn’t room to wind up a punch or a kick, so it fell to something between wrestling and slap fighting. They pummeled each other ineffectually with frustrated thrashing until snow and mud piled over the entrance, throwing them into complete darkness.
“Now look what you did,” Nozel grumbled. “This is revolting! Pathetic!”
“At least you’re not an icicle! It warmed you up, didn't it?" Fuegoleon grumbled, his pride genuinely spurned by Nozel’s thorough scorn of his help. "I was just trying to stop your shaking. That's not very dignified, you know!" He started trying to climb toward the entrance.
“Ow! Watch it!” Nozel snapped, squirming for what he thought was out of the way, only to get elbowed in the throat.
“I’m trying ,” Fuegoleon responded. He clawed at the dirt, sending a shower onto Nozel.
“Insult to injury, now?” Nozel complained.
Fuego flopped down, exasperated. Nozel was sure his body landing on his own and squashing him further into the dirt was intentional. “We’ll dig out in the morning, then!”
“Fine!” he spat back, furious, but spent. He tried to shove the Vermillion off of him, but Fuegoleon was vindictively limp and heavy. “Get off!” When his only response was a preformative snore, Nozel added, “I know you’re not asleep, you stubborn twat!” He wrapped his arms around him and, with all his might, rolled him off him, onto his side.
“You’re so loud,” Fuego complained, and he rolled over to face the other way.
There wasn’t room to do this without still having Nozel’s arm under him, and in the interest of not having it bend the wrong way under him, Nozel was forced to shift. He found himself an unintended big spoon. Far from freezing, he felt like he might overheat in that cramped, steamy hole in the ground. “Fuego!” he hissed, swatting at the Vermillion’s back. When that failed, he held his breath and reached around his shoulders to slap at his face, doing his best to ignore how close he had to press up on his rival’s ample rump.
“What now?”
“You’re still on me!”
He huffed impatiently, rose, wrapped his arms around Nozel much like Nozel had grabbed him earlier, and rolled him on top of him. “Happy now?” Fuegoleon let his arms drop to his sides and, it seemed, tried very hard to ignore him.
Nozel leered into the dark and tried to find somewhere to go now that he was free from Fuego’s hold, but his only option was the muddy ground. Sighing, he leaned his head on his chest and let the alcohol help drag him into sleep.
Morning did not come peacefully. Dirt rained onto Nozel’s back, and he startled. His head hit the cave ceiling, and he scrambled in a near panic when opening his eyes revealed nothing but darkness. But it wasn’t the dirt that had awoken him. It was a terrifying, monstrous mana. The night didn’t come back to him all at once, and it was only when he tried to crawl forward and found his hand on a face that he remembered Fuegoleon was there. “Wake up!” he hissed, grabbing either side of his head and shaking him, because he didn’t have time to find the Vermillion’s shoulders.
“What?” Fuego gasped.
There was a horrible snuffling and snorting, like a wild boar was unearthing them, and the den shook. “We are fucking under attack!” Nozel said, the image of a sexy anime girl flashing across his mind as the meme escaped his throat in a panic.
The boys scrambled, but to where? Light broke through the exit, blinding them to the outside. They were trapped!
Then, a hand plunged through the dirt. It pawed around like some furious cat’s paws and clutched onto Fuegoleon. He let out a startled cry and scrabbled at the dirt as it yanked him out. Nozel’s heart pounded and his chest heaved. Would it be satisfied? No, the hand returned, and clutched onto Nozel’s pant leg. He was dragged into the light.
He flailed for a handhold, his barely adjusting eyes making out a familiar, upside-down face leering over them. He had thought this was some monster, but the reality was so much worse. It was Mearoleona. She shook him from where he dangled by the ankle in her grasp. Fuegoleon’s cloak flopped off him to the ground. “You’re the only ones who didn’t get back!” she roared. “I can’t believe how pathetic you are!” She dropped Nozel, and he landed hard on his face in the snow. “That means I’m dragging you up there again!” Her mana blazed. "And this time, if you don't get back, I'll bury you myself!"
Her eyes roved over the cowering boys, taking in their thoroughly dirty, panicked, and still damp forms. Then she laughed. Nozel, head throbbing, couldn’t put that one together until her hands came down, chopping both boys on the top of the head and trumpeted out “Time and place, worms! Time and place!”