Chapter Text
If I’m alive and well,
Meta Knight staggers, holding himself upright by firmly planting Galaxia into the ground. He’s just won the battle against the evil threatening Popstar while Kirby took a well-deserved nap, but not without a cost. His mask is in pieces, split through the middle and hanging on only with the straps wound tightly around his head. Half of his face is exposed; his left eye, the blue blush under it, and half his mouth, curled downward with a trail of blood trickling down from the corner all on display.
But he’s alive.
He’s won.
Will you be there?
And then Dedede is there, Meta watches him run to Meta’s side through his peripheral vision. Meta Knight tries to take a step, but it just brings him closer to the ground. He has trouble breathing and when he tries to take a deep breath, he breaks out into a coughing fit, stumbling backwards. He’s going to hit the ground.
Except, he doesn’t. His fall is blanketed by Dedede’s arms. Dedede shifts Meta’s weight to one arm and sits down, bringing the knight closer to him. He clicks his tongue when he lays eyes on the carnage that is Meta’s face and reaches down to peel the remainder of Meta’s mask off him.
“Geez, Meta,” Dedede mutters, throwing the mask off to the side. He cups Meta’s face, wiping the blood on the corner of Meta’s mouth with a thumb. “Wanna let me know in advance when ya go off to save the world next time? I could’ve prepared a first-aid kit, but ya caught me empty-handed.”
Holding my hand?
Meta chuckles hoarsely. He seeks out Dedede’s hand, grasping it firmly. “It’s my duty,” he whispers, because talking outright hurts. He slowly brings Dedede’s hand up to his mouth, maintaining eye-contact when he presses his lips to the back of it. Dedede rolls his eyes with an exasperated but fond smile. “As your knight.”
Dedede squeezes Meta’s hand. He brings the knight up to his chest, cradling him to his chest and gently kisses the top of Meta’s head. “Mm. But as your king, I have a duty of care. If I can’t keep ya from divin’ head-first into danger, very least I could do is make sure ya rest up nice an’ good before ya go fightin’ some evil again.“
Meta smiles, and winces when it hurts. “Ugh,” he grumbles, “It hurts to smile.”
Dedede softly laughs. The sound makes Meta’s heart flutter. “Serious knight like you? Ya don’t gotta worry about smilin’ too much.”
“Of course. I smile most when I am with you, Dedede. You have that effect on me,” Meta teases, playful and flirty despite everything. He lifts up a wing, and wraps it around Dedede in the approximation of a hug.
“Meta…” Dedede doesn’t know what to say. So he just holds Meta tighter, peppering kisses on his head. Meta tilts his head up, straining a little to lift his face and finally meeting Dedede’s lips with his own. They kiss, deeply, and one of Dedede’s hands settle on the space between Meta’s wings. He’s gentle but desperate, pouring his uncertainties about Meta’s life earlier and his relief upon seeing the knight emerge victorious all into this kiss. Meta reciprocates just as fiercely, and they part only when they’re both out of breath.
“I love you,” Meta whispers.
“An’ I love you, Meta,” Dedede whispers back. “You’re gonna love me a whole lot less when I confine ya to Castle Dedede ‘til you’re healed, I reckon.”
Meta wraps his wings just a bit tighter around Dedede’s form. “Nothing could put a dent in my love for you.”