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In retrospect, Eighty should have had their first kiss someplace else. At some other time, definitely not on the way home from the convention center. But the two of them had been talking for hours about everything they’d seen and done and the people they’d met, and how Yullian had finally found the lost episodes she’d been missing from her collection for ages, and how one of Eighty’s favorite authors had slipped up and possibly hinted at a new series tie-in, and they were just so alive that before he realized he was moving he’d leaned over to kiss her. He’d meant for it to maybe land on her cheek, like so many before it, but a turn of her head at just the wrong moment and he was kissing her full on the lips, miraculously not crashing his nose into hers.
A part of him was thrown so far out of his own body that he reflected that he really ought to be already pulling back and apologizing. But he watched as another part of him realized that she didn’t pull away herself, decided, well, I might as well, and lingered just a few moments longer, turning the accidental brush of the lips into an actual kiss.
Her lips were like no starlight he’d ever tasted. Clear and crisp and warm and softer than he could process.
They separated with mutual breathlessness, and it took Eighty a minute to process that not only had he just taken her first kiss, but he’d done so without preamble or explanation or even so much as a warning. For her own part, Yullian had put a hand to her mouth as if not quite sure if she entirely processed what had just happened, which well matched Eighty’s own state of mind. “I, uh... I probably shouldn’t have done that, Yullian,” he managed, trying to convey the seriousness of his offense but still lightheaded and giddy from the kiss. He'd messed up. Light, he'd messed up so bad. He was going to die. He tried to articulate the sentiment, but only came up with, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have imposed on you.”
He’d kissed the princess. The princess, of the entire Land of Light!
...He’d kissed his best friend, who he’d gone with to celebrations and events and battles and conventions for his whole life. He literally couldn’t imagine life without her, because he’d never not been by her side for long. Eighty knew that most people already assumed that they were a couple, but their comfortable familiarity was entirely different from...whatever he’d just initiated.
...Wasn’t it?
“Oh no you don’t,” Yullian said quickly, catching Eighty’s arm before he could pull away completely. “You don’t get to hide; not from me.” She allowed him to straighten completely, but not to actually distance himself from her, gazing at him as though trying to read the soul he’d just bared for her.
Eighty looked into her face, automatically mapping the familiar softness of her features like he’d done countless times before. He could sculpt her likeness in pitch darkness, every gentle line of her nose and mouth was so achingly familiar and known to him. “I never have,” he said quietly. “I’ve never been able to hide anything from you.”
“So why start now?” She leaned closer, tugging gently on his arm to ask him to come close again. “How long has this been going on, Eighty?”
He wasn’t able to look away from her mesmerizing amber eyes, every crystal marking in them perfect and clear like a solar flare. “Only long enough to know it wasn’t going away,” he said quietly. “I...you’re my best friend, Yulli, I didn’t want to risk that on something passing. And I know I should have found a better way to say it, but...” Eighty made a helpless gesture. “Please forgive me.”
Yullian pulled him nearer still. “Then maybe I should apologize for this,” she breathed, and before he could question it her lips had already found his, her fingers gently guiding his jaw into the fresh kiss. Eighty’s gasp of surprise turned into a soft moan as he found himself reciprocating, tipping his head to kiss her deeper, gently, very gently.
The taste of light on her lips was...not like a star, not any one star anyway. But like an aspect of a star, like...yes, like morning sunlight breaking on earth, he decided; a tinge of hope, of warmth peering through crisp, clear sky. A star rising and majestic and regal, but not haughty. A light that warmed, encouraged, asked the night watchman to hold out just a little longer before she dispelled the darkness altogether and brought on a new day.
When they separated again, this time a little more out of breath and more flushed, Eighty managed, “How long have you wanted to do that, then?”
Yullian laughed, the sound warm in Eighty’s chest. “I don’t really know. Centuries, or maybe only just now. It just felt right.”
“I feel the same way,” said Eighty, finding himself laughing too in the rush of relief and delight and affection and a hundred other things. “And...if it’s alright with you, I’d like to see where this takes us.”
She nodded. “More than alright, Eighty. That sounds perfect to me.”
“Really?”
“Would I lie?”
“Only if you thought it was funny.”
“Hey, that’s not what you’re supposed to say!”
Eighty grinned. “It’s true though! Remember when we were both five thousand and you told me—“
“How do you still remember that?!”
But he plowed ahead mercilessly. “You told me that your father was holding a costume party when it was actually a formal cape ceremony—“
“I didn’t think you’d believe me!”
“You didn’t stop me though.”
“I can stop you now!”
“What are y—mnnnnh...” Eighty had to concede that Yullian had indeed found a very effective way to stop him from saying more.