Work Text:
CuteGuy stumbles as he touches down on the broken pavement, struggling for balance as he flaps his burnt wings. Explosions ring out distantly behind him.
HotGuy rushes towards him and holds him in his arms. CuteGuy isn’t sure which of them is shaking harder.
“You’re alive.” HotGuy’s voice is ragged. He pulls CuteGuy in closer, and CuteGuy clutches at the rough straps of HotGuy’s uniform. He welcomes the cold metal of the buckles as they dig into his skin. There’s a barely perceptible touch of lips against his temple, and then HotGuy rests his chin in his hair. “You’re alive.”
