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1
It’s not every day that Vanta gets to spend his morning with Zali, due to their wildly conflicting schedules, which makes it all the more special. Even if every second he gets to spend with Zali is special in his eyes, if he’s being honest.
Since it’s one of their rare free days, they decide to check out a nearby coffee shop, per Vanta’s recommendation. He promises that their lattes are to die for! And despite Zali’s aversion to coffee, he pushes through and tries one anyway, and to his surprise, ends up really enjoying the taste. Maybe he will have to come back for more on a different day. And maybe he should accompany Vanta next time as well, so he gets to listen to him ramble on and on about the lore of one of his favorite games.
As the pair leaves behind the peacefulness of the coffee shop and returns to the liveliness of the outside world, Vanta keeps chattering, his tone animated, “Then one random guy found the Dark Soul, and the Dark Soul gave birth to humanity, right?” The brown paper bag clutched in his hand sways with each gesture he makes as he explains. His steps slow down when he turns to his side, checking if Zali is still keeping up with his walking speed. When the medic nods in affirmation to signal that he’s still listening, Vanta carries on, matching the more relaxed steps of his teammate. “Then the four people that had the Lord Souls conspired together with a dragon, and he got made fun of by the other dragons because he didn’t have any scales, but…” His blathering gradually comes to a halt when he notices that, bit by bit, Zali’s footsteps are slowing down. His gaze seems fixed elsewhere, and his mind is clearly preoccupied by something.
The distant look on his face diverts Vanta out of his own thoughts as well, completely abandoning the riveting tale he was so passionately telling. “…Zali?” He calls, half concerned, half embarrassed for rambling Zali’s ear off since the moment they reached the coffee shop.
Stunned for a second, Zali quickly comes back to reality, his eyes trailing back up to meet Vanta’s. “Oh, sorry, I got distracted…” Awkwardly, he laughs an apology before he pauses to think. He looks down at his open palm, then to the side, at Vanta’s free hand before he asks, “Can I see your hand? I just want to check something.”
“Uh, sure.” Puzzled, Vanta obliges and offers his hand to the medic, curious to see whatever he’s planning. He’s not sure what he was expecting, but Zali reaching out to hold his hand somehow still takes him by complete surprise.
“Your hand is so warm.” Zali comments with a smile, his grasp on Vanta’s hand unwavering yet gentle. Almost… tender?
Vanta’s throat dries up, and for a moment, his steps stagger. Why did his heart jump the way it did? He is sure that he barely took more than a couple sips of his coffee earlier, so it can’t be the caffeine…
“Yours is cold.” Playfully, he deflects, ignoring his rising heartbeat and how his palms are starting to sweat. He internally prays Zali doesn’t notice the latter. But if he manages to forget how hot he suddenly feels despite the low temperature, Vanta doesn’t really mind this. It’s not strange to casually hold hands with his homie, right?
“Look how much bigger your hands are compared to mine!” Zali cheerfully adds, lifting Vanta’s hand as well as his own to show the difference in size. He aligns his palm with Vanta’s for emphasis, and the contrast is unmistakable. Everything from size, shape, color, even texture… It's like night and day. Zali seems delighted, impressed even, with the gap.
Vanta, on the other hand, has to remind himself to keep his hold on the paper bag so he doesn’t accidentally drop the coffee he got for Wilson. He wouldn’t hear the end of it if he did. His eyes dart back and forth, ears burning hotter and hotter the longer his skin stays in contact with Zali’s, even with what little skin the medic shows to begin with.
“Y-Yeah…” Vanta hides the lower half of his face into his scarf after clearing his throat. “They sure are.”
2
“Is that all you’ve got?” Out of breath, Zali taunts, laughing as he struggles back to his feet. He’s lost count of how many times he’s almost plummeted to the ground like a sack of potatoes since this training session had begun, but he’s not about to stop. Not by a long shot. Not until he’s fully satisfied.
Of course, by training session, that means arm wrestling. An activity that both Zali and Vanta have grown accustomed to, a sort of tradition that they enjoy practicing whenever they get the chance to train together. Even if Vanta wins nearly every time, and even if Zali’s chances of winning remain slim.
With a light huff, Vanta goes to rest his hands on the table in front of him. He chuckles when Zali leans forward to prop his elbow on the table, ready for another round.
“Dude, I told you, I could hurt you if I go all out.” Vanta’s tone is quiet, almost timid as he warns, “If I’m not careful enough, I might actually break your arm.”
Being blessed with superhuman strength was always something Vanta took pride in, until he began working as a hero under A.S.H, because when he wasn’t beating the lights out of villains and saving the day, he was helping vulnerable and fragile civilians to safety.
And while Zali isn’t exactly a vulnerable and fragile civilian, and can definitely withstand a few hits, Vanta still doesn’t trust himself to not accidentally hurt his teammate.
But Zali doesn’t care. Vanta’s strength never scared him. “I can take it. Bring it on.” He dares, the determination in his eyes glimmering as bright as his smile. Despite being smaller, and truthfully… scrawnier than the tyrant, Zali has more than enough competitive spirit to keep him going.
It seems to infect Vanta, as he accepts the challenge and mirrors the medic’s motion, planting his elbow on the table and firmly grasping Zali’s hand once more.
After he counts up to three, and the moment the word three is uttered, as though a switch was flipped, both men tighten their clasps on each other’s fists and push, hell-bent on taking the other down. Just like all of their previous matches, Zali’s resistance is still as impressive as ever. His eyes are squinting, teeth gritted, face sweaty and flushed, clearly struggling to push against the force of Vanta’s hand. Vanta doesn’t need to put nearly as much effort as Zali does if he wants to make it fair, but who really cares about fairness?
Not Vanta, that’s for sure. So, barely breaking a sweat, he pushes back even harder, and he could swear he hears Zali let out a hiss.
“Come on…!” He grunts in frustration, refusing defeat. Shutting his eyes, Zali puts his full power into his palm, and to Vanta’s surprise, he starts to feel a little bit of force, but not enough for him to even remotely budge.
It’s… cute.
Zali’s stubbornness, his resolute dedication to overpowering the tyrant, the dumb face he’s making, all scrunched up from being so focused on trying to win…
It’s… so cute.
Wait— cute?!
Vanta doesn’t get the chance to finish that thought, as it quickly gets interrupted by a loud smack, the sound of the back of his hand being slammed onto the table.
It doesn’t register at first, not for either of them. Not until Zali takes a second to catch his breath as the two of them stare down at the table. His eyes widen before he gasps. “I… I did it!” He laughs in disbelief, “I actually did it!!”
Standing upright, Vanta tries to defend his bruised ego, but anything that leaves his mouth comes out a jumbled mess. “Yeah, I— I dunno, I just, I got… uh, m-my palms were sweaty! I dunno! I just lost my grip, that’s all!” He stumbles over his own words, excuses spilling out faster than he can think.
Even then, Zali is still laughing, triumphant. It’s one of those rare, big hearty laughs where he’s wheezing, the type where he has to hold onto the table for support. His muscles are likely still sore from training, Vanta notes.
Defeat never tasted so sweet.
Swallowing his pride, Vanta sighs and grins wide, Zali’s laughter a balm for his emotional wound. “Ya know what? You earned it, I’ll admit it. Congrats.” He snarks, barely even bitter about his loss anymore.
Still delighting in his victory, Zali’s chuckles calm down to just a sunny smile, so warm and bright and so healing.
It’s worth it. God, it’s so worth it.
Zali straightens his stance, stretching his sore arms with a strained groan before relaxing his muscles, an exhale of satisfaction leaving his lungs.
Exhaustion starts to set in, and it shows when he nearly stumbles on his walk to where Vanta is standing to place a hand on his shoulder, giving it a pat of encouragement. “You’re such a hard worker, Vanta. I like that about you.” Zali praises, voice laced with honey, his cheery smile not leaving his face. The hand on Vanta’s shoulder gently slides down to his bicep to squeeze the firm muscle, his touch feather-light.
A shiver runs down Vanta’s spine at the unexpected contact, at the flattery that he assumes is out of pity, an attempt to mend his broken ego. The soft smile that Zali flashes him when he looks up at him pierces right through the tyrant’s heart.
“I truly admire your strength. I hope I get to match it one day.” He adds before taking his leave, and it only makes the warm fuzziness inside of Vanta’s ribcage grow stronger.
If Vanta wasn’t sweating from their training session, he sure as hell is now. His mouth opens, and a dry mumble of gibberish comes out. But by the time he finally manages to regain his ability to speak, Zali has already left the room.
3
A flinch and a pained hiss from Vanta disturbs the medic from his work.
“Stay still.” Zali quietly scolds, his gaze focused and intense. Sterile gauze tightly held between careful fingers, he sighs in what Vanta assumes is irritation. “I cannot help you otherwise.”
“Sorry.” Vanta falters, shame stinging his cheeks, on top of them already stinging from the deep cut on his cheekbone. He shifts in place, the rustle of the sheet underneath him filling the silence of the infirmary.
Zali softens up as soon as he notices the sheepish look that shrouds Vanta’s face. “You have nothing to apologize for. I know it stings.” He consoles, untensing his shoulders. “But you need to let me treat your injury.”
Despite his sternness, Vanta can still feel a hint of fondness in the medic’s tone. It helps him relax as well. “Okay. I’ll try.” Uplifted, he nods.
As a hero, Vanta should be used to receiving all different kinds of cuts, bruises, scratches, even burns, to protect innocent lives. The medical treatment that comes after each mission remains the hardest part. However, Zali’s gentle nature and calming presence makes it easier. Zali makes it easier. Vanta would never dream of having anyone else as the healer of his team.
“Let me try this.” Zali asserts before securely holding Vanta’s jaw with a gloved hand. Not enough to hurt, not at all, just enough pressure to keep his head in place.
His limbs stay in place too, and so does the rest of his body. Completely immobile, he simply lets Zali lean closer for a better look at his cheek, not even reacting to the antibiotic-soaked bandage touching his skin again.
Having Zali’s face so close to his, even in a situation as simple and recurring as having his wound treated, still makes Vanta’s heart flutter. It’s stupid. He knows how stupid it is. Yet he can’t help the way his eyes struggle to stay focused, or the heat that spreads to his face, or how tensed and restless his body gets in an attempt to not disrupt Zali.
But the medic has a keen eye. “You’re very tense.” He comments matter-of-factly, his low tone and warm breath only making the tyrant fight even harder to remain as still as he can. Zali loosens his grip, absorbed with keeping the movements of his hand meticulous and steady. “It’s okay, you can relax. You’re not in trouble or anything like that.”
With a stiff hum of agreement, Vanta heavily exhales the millisecond Zali backs away, finally giving him some space to breathe freely again. He closes his eyes in a desperate attempt to calm himself down.
What’s wrong with me?
Zali doesn’t seem to question it. At least not in a way that is apparent to Vanta when his eyes open again. Or so he hopes. Zali is hard to read. Thinking is hard. Whatever, his head hurts. Things like this make his head hurt. Is this what brain damage feels like? Did the sharp dagger that grazed his cheek in that last mission give him a concussion too? Can that happen?
Vanta snaps out of his thoughts when Zali returns to carefully apply a bandage on the cut on his cheek. “All done.” He declares, his genial demeanor resurging as soon as the procedure is complete.
Lifting a hand to let his fingertips feel the plaster on his cheek, Vanta breathes in. “Y-Yeah… Thanks, Zali.” His reply comes out raspy as he allows himself to decompress, little by little.
It’s so subtle that Vanta almost misses it, but the corners of Zali’s eyes crinkle when he smiles. “Try to be more careful next time, okay?” He directs, his tone growing considerably warmer, likely a reaction to the tyrant’s skittishness.
Normally, Vanta would give back a silly or witty response. Unfortunately, his heart is acting as if he just ran a marathon. Glancing up at Zali is suddenly the hardest task in the world.
“I’ll try.”
4
Scheduled meetings are not at the top of Vanta’s list of favorite things about working under A.S.H, but the free meals that typically come after them are.
The elongated tables packed with a wide selection of food are nothing short of impressive. If Vanta hadn’t already eaten beforehand, he would easily let himself indulge at least a little bit, but a light snack or a small drink should be enough for now. A mini pastry catches his eye, so he goes to pick it up, and it disappears in just a few bites. A little treat every once in a while never hurt anyone, right?
Before he goes to pick another one, something else catches his eye. When he looks over towards the table containing beverages, he sees one of his teammates standing in front of it. With what he can only describe as a puzzled look, Zali stands there, holding a bottle of Ramune and examining it carefully, clearly lost.
Deciding to approach the medic, Vanta smiles as a silent greeting, and Zali smiles back when their eyes meet, albeit more reserved. He turns his attention back to the bottle in his hand, then back to Vanta.
“How do you… open this?” Quietly chuckling at his own ineptitude, Zali asks when he faces Vanta, finally putting his internal debate of asking for help to rest.
Now, Vanta could smoothly show off his Ramune opening skills and just pop it open for Zali to impress him, but teaching him how to do it would be far more useful in the long run.
Seeing as Zali has already removed the plastic wrapping the cap in his attempts to open it, Vanta takes the bottle from his hands, setting it back on the table. He places one of the tiny plastic pieces on the marble ball at the cap. “Take this, and just push it.” He guides, demonstrating by hovering his palm on top of it.
Still bemused, Zali follows, grasping the bottle in one hand, with his other palm on the cap, just as Vanta instructed. He looks towards the tyrant again, as if wordlessly asking for reassurance. It’s almost cute.
“Yeah, like this.” Vanta assures with a nod, and he can see most of the concern leaving Zali’s face when he does so.
“I see.” Zali comments right as he begins to put pressure onto the cap, experimenting with how much strength is needed to pop it open.
It’s… endearing, seeing someone as resourceful and reliable as Zali needing help with something as simple as opening a Ramune bottle. But Vanta can’t really blame him, those things can be confusing for anyone unfamiliar with them.
“Yeah, I remember I broke the bottle the first time I tried to open one.” Vanta recalls with a playful snicker. “You’re doing a better job than I di—” He doesn’t get the chance to add before a loud pop! takes him by surprise, the unmistakable sound of the bottle being successfully opened by Zali.
But neither of them get to celebrate, as a hiss from the carbonated drink followed by a stream of foam instantaneously overflows, dribbling down the bottle and onto the tablecloth beneath it and all over Zali’s hand. It’s a mess. In a futile attempt to salvage the remainder of his beverage, Zali lifts the bottle, his other hand still blocking the top of it. When he hesitantly moves his palm, it’s like he doesn’t get a moment to blink before even more of the sticky liquid bubbles up and drips down, leaking everywhere and…
And Vanta can’t help the feeling that he’s seen a similar view somewhere else. He can’t help his mind from wandering deep into the gutter, staring at the mixture of foam and fluid drooling down the bottle and coating Zali’s hand, especially with the almost tantalizing way the medic is holding the middle of the bottle.
Mentally slapping himself to prevent his brain from further tormenting him with perverted thoughts, Vanta quickly grabs a handful of tissues to help clean up the mess, fighting to ignore the violent fluttering in his chest and the lava under his skin.
“Thank you.” Zali says with an awkward giggle, but it helps alleviate some of Vanta’s embarrassment for his… indecent thoughts. Setting down the now half empty bottle, Zali grabs more tissues to clean the stickiness from his hands. He shakes his head and sighs in defeat, lightheartedly. “What a shame, I didn’t even get to taste it.”
Vanta distracts himself with a forced laugh, which comes out more like a cough. Maybe he should add ‘stop having weird thoughts about your teammate/friend/crush when he’s doing something innocent’ to his list of future goals.
5
Lounging in one of the empty meeting rooms past midnight while everyone else sleeps is not unusual for the heroes of the night. Particularly, the medic and the tyrant, who happen to especially enjoy the comfortable silence of each other’s company. Not a single word needs to be uttered, just each other’s presence while they peacefully do their work is enough.
Still seated, Zali straightens his back and slowly stretches his arms, and the quiet crackling of stiff joints can be heard. Letting out a long sigh as he untenses like a deflating balloon, he reaches a hand to rub his own shoulder. With a pained exhale, he mumbles, “Gosh…”
From a nearby chair, Vanta takes notice of his discomfort. “You good?” He asks in concern, looking up from his own worksheet.
Zali leans back in his chair to get more comfortable. He replies with a soft chuckle to try to ease Vanta’s worry. “I’m okay, it’s just my shoulder. It’s so stiff…”
“Yeah, you’ve been doing a lot of paperwork lately, huh?” Vanta gives a sympathetic grin. He puts away his worksheet to let himself stretch as well, glancing over to the wall clock. It’s way too late to still be up at this hour. He sighs, “Guess it’s time we call it a night.”
“I can keep working, I just need a little break.” Zali insists as he brings a hand to his face to rub his temples, clearly exhausted. “You can go ahead if you need to, though.”
A selfish part of Vanta wishes he could spend more time with the medic, to hang out just a little longer, to be around his healing presence for five more minutes. He stands up to walk over to where Zali is seated once an idea strikes him.
“How about I give you a massage?” He offers, cautiously placing a hand on the back of Zali’s chair. Hotness starts to encase his throat at his own offer the second it leaves his mouth.
Zali looks up at him, pausing to think it over. It does sound tempting. He hums before a gentle smile appears on his lips. “That would be much appreciated.”
Vanta’s surprise at Zali accepting his offer remains a mystery to him, but he won’t complain. Instead, he settles warm hands on the medic’s shoulders, and he almost instantly relaxes into his touch. It’s… adorable.
Keeping his focus on rubbing Zali’s shoulders, Vanta ignores the heat spreading to his face. He both regrets and savors ever offering this massage.
“Mmh, a little to the top…” Zali exhales, and Vanta obliges, moving his hands to knead the upper area, closer to his neck.
“Here?” Vanta asks, receiving a hum in response. “Damn, it really is stiff…”
He quickly learns that Zali is quite… vocal when receiving massages, pleased sighs falling from his lips, and it’s not until he lets out the softest whine that Vanta freezes in place, like he just took an arrow to the heart.
“Can you press harder?” Zali faintly requests, and it pulls the tyrant out of his daze to do as told.
“H-Harder…”
Another arrow to the heart.
Surely just Vanta’s imagination, right? Zali didn’t just moan, did he?
He shakes away that thought, distracting himself by pressing his fingers into Zali’s sore muscle, earning him a small, blissful gasp.
“Ah..! Right there!” He directs, the desperation in his soft voice tugging at Vanta’s heartstrings.
Man, his heart must look like a porcupine by now.
“Here?” Vanta’s question comes out feeble as he digs his fingers further into that spot, and Zali seems to really enjoy it.
“Yes! Ah, that’s it…” Breathily, Zali mutters in delight, encouraging Vanta to keep going. “Nnh, you’re so good…”
That whimper sends Vanta over the edge. He can’t take this torturous teasing anymore. Without thinking, as if he lost control of his hands, he firmly presses a thumb into the medic’s shoulder, and he presses hard. Probably hard enough to bruise it a little.
“Wait, Vanta— ah!!” Zali yelps in surprise, both at the ache and the sudden gruffness. “Gosh, don’t be so rough…” He complains, leaning away from Vanta’s hands to rub that stinging spot in his shoulder.
Regret starts to set in. Wide eyed, Vanta stares down at Zali’s back, the realization of what he’s done tormenting him. “S-Sorry, I, uh…” He stammers, unsure if from guilt or from embarrassment, or both. He coughs before he quietly adds, “I got… a little carried away.”
A small laugh pulls him out of his spiral. “Don’t worry about it. I guess I got carried away as well.” Zali admits, turning around to look back at the tyrant, giving him a comforting smile.
At least he doesn’t seem too upset. Vanta breathes easier. “Did I hurt you?” With furrowed brows, he asks in shame, the harsh beating of his heart still loud in his ears.
“No, really, it’s okay.” Zali asserts, “You’re actually great at giving massages, Vanta. I do feel much better.”
His gentle smile and soft reassurances do help melt away Vanta’s guilt. They also melt his heart. It seems he still has a lot more to learn about Zali than he initially thought.
+1 Bonus!
Zali never goes anywhere without his sister’s feather attached to his collar.
It’s the most crucial part of his morning routine. He always makes sure to remind himself to wear it, to keep it close to his heart. It’s his most valuable belonging, no doubt about that. When he’s in distress, holding the feather and feeling its softness in his hand as he fidgets with it is what keeps him grounded, what keeps him sane. He cannot survive without it.
So imagine his surprise when, in the middle of a regular evening, he notices that his feather isn’t in its usual place. Soon, that surprise turned into anxiety, and that anxiety is slowly turning into devastation. Who knows what that devastation will evolve into.
He searched everywhere. He turned his living quarters upside down looking for it. Both his lab and the infirmary are a mess due to his hunt for that feather, yet it’s nowhere to be found.
How could he be so careless? How does he even misplace something of that importance? He always made sure to have it on him at all times, where could it possibly be? What if he never finds it? What if his last memento from Lia is just… gone? What if—
“Zali!” A familiar voice calls for him, dragging him out of his descent into madness.
Frantic, Zali stops in his tracks to look for the source of that voice. He sees none other than the tyrant standing a few feet away, with a small, pink accessory dangled from his hand.
Lia’s feather, safe and sound.
“This is yours, right?” Vanta asks, a look of worry on his face. He seems to have been searching for Zali, judging by the urgency in his voice.
A wave of easiness washes over Zali, a feeling he hasn’t felt in ages. A quiet gasp of relief escapes his lips, filling his lungs with solace, and with it, his eyes begin to dampen slightly.
“Oh my goodness, I was looking for it everywhere…!” Breathing out, he declares in surprise before he hurriedly makes his way to where Vanta is standing. “Where did you find it?”
“It was just on the floor over there.” Vanta replies, pointing towards the door of a conference room. “Must’ve fallen from you during the meeting earlier, or something.”
Before Zali gets the chance to thank him and to berate himself for being so neglectful, to his surprise, Vanta leans closer, feather in hand, attempting to attach it by himself instead of simply handing it to the medic.
Normally, Zali would never allow anyone to touch Lia’s feather. But… Vanta is holding it so gently, with all of the care in the world, as if he understands the sentiment behind it.
Heart already in a frenzy from anxiety, Zali feels it speed up. He tries to protest, to insist that he can just do it himself, but only a quiet stutter comes out instead. With Vanta’s concentrated face so close to his, it’s too difficult to think.
The tyrant lets out a small tsk, frustrated while fiddling with the chain attached to the feather that refuses to cooperate. He leans further down to get a closer look, and it doesn’t help Zali’s nerves.
Too close.
Way too close.
If this keeps going, Zali’s heart might seriously explode.
Once he hears the delicate sound of the ornament clicking back into its rightful place, he lets out a heavy breath, praying that Vanta doesn’t notice his flustered state. That was probably the longest thirty seconds of his life.
“There we go.” Vanta announces as he stands upright, a proud smile on his face.
Out of habit, Zali brings a shaky hand up to hold his feather, thankful that it’s actually there this time. “Th-Thank you…” He stammers, struggling to keep his eyes focused as he inhales slowly.
“Don’t mention it.” Vanta beams, his voice softening. “I know this feather is really important to you, so I ran to give it to you as soon as I saw it.”
The warmth in Zali’s chest burns even hotter, spreading to his face, a visible redness appearing on his cheeks. He swallows before he looks away. “Thank you. I, um… I appreciate it, Vanta…”