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“This is nice, isn’t it?” Fire Spirit asks, swinging his legs as the both of them sit on a little biscuit railing of the bridge over the soda river, the sunset’s rays washing everything in pinks and oranges. He watches the little Swedish fish swimming past them and listens to the little popping of the bubbles they make.
”Mm,” Wind Archer exhales beside him, his scarf and hair swaying with the cherry blossoms above them. “It’s peaceful. Pretty.”
Fire Spirit’s lips twitch. “You’re staring again. Lost in thought?” He leans back, his hands on the railing being the only thing holding him back from falling into the river. “But yeah, the sky’s been really pretty, huh? And the soda’s turned all pink.”
”Mm. It has been.” He glances at the pink and orange cotton candy clouds before looking at him again with those soft soft eyes of his — so normally sharp yet always so unguarded towards him — as if he can’t bring himself to look away. “However… what I meant was that you’re pretty too. Really really pretty.”
Fire Spirit blinks, his flames flickering for a bit before he laughs. “Ha… there you go again being sappy,” he says before shifting his weight to his arm. “So? Are you saying I’m only pretty now but not before~?”
Wind Archer huffs, lifting up his scarf to hide his mouth though his eyes still show his smile. “You are always very pretty. However… ” he looks at him again, and seeing the way his flames reflect back on his eyes, the way they reflect on the cookie in front of him as if his light is trying to imprint themselves on Wind Archer’s dough and icing and everywhere they can touch… it’s almost too obvious just how deeply he feels for him. “Seeing you like this, so warm and content… it feels like coming home after a long winter.”
His breath hitches, his heart beating a little bit faster. “Isn’t the forest your home?”
”It is. Even so, I feel more like myself whenever I’m with you. Whatever ‘myself’ is.” He chuckles, looking back up at the way the tree’s leaves above them swayed in the breeze. “The wind is ubiquitous, and yet you make me feel a little more… centered, somehow. A little lighter. With you, I have no need to… to be anything but myself.”
Fire Spirit observes him — one of his favorite pastimes. His yellow-green hair, light green clothes, and dark green scarf flow in the cool breeze, and his dough has that vibrant tint on its cheeks that he absolutely adores seeing, and they all catch onto the sunset light and his own flames, looking so incredibly ethereal. He looks like an angel, a deity to be worshipped.
He can’t help but reach out to gently hold his hand, watching to see if Wind Archer lets him. He doesn’t pull his hand away.
Fire Spirit exhales softly. He’s always careful whenever he touches Wind Archer, or touches anything flammable. Back in the Dragon’s Valley, the fire he wields is used for terror. Fire burns. Fire hurts. And he doesn’t want it to hurt Wind Archer. He would never.
He rubs his thumb on its palm, feeling the way they have been calloused and hurt from protecting the forest every day and holding his hands every night for every nightmare he has. He presses his lips to his palm.
“Oh.” He breathes, looking back up to meet emerald eyes. He chuckles lowly, “you really know how to make me swoon, don’t you?”
“Being honest makes you melt… is that what you mean?” Wind Archer smiles lovingly and bumps their foreheads together gently. He can feel the thrumming of life in its gem. Life. He’s so alive. “If that’s so… then I love seeing you smile.”
Fire Spirit giggles, like he’s a young cookie again all over again. He sits a little bit closer. “Well, I love seeing you laugh.”
Wind Archer chuckles, leaning towards him. “I love hearing your voice.”
“And I love hearing you sing.”
“I love seeing you happy.”
“I love seeing you free.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.” He presses their lips together, pulling him closer, closer, closer. As if he can’t get enough. He can’t get enough. The wind kisses so strongly and tastes so sweetly, and he can’t get enough. Kissing him feels like being blasted with a thousand butterflies, their buttery wings so gentle but their force so powerful. He’s addicted.
When they finally pull away, Wind Archer cups his face with no fear of getting burned despite Fire Spirit’s dough steadily heating up. Those hands, the very hands that protect everything it loves, are holding his face as if he was the only thing that mattered. As if someone as destructive as him is treasured by someone as loving as him.
As if to cement the idea into his head, Wind Archer peppers his face with soft quick kisses with pretty chapped lips. He kisses his forehead, his eyes, his cheeks, his chin, his lips — everywhere its lips can touch until Fire Spirit is a giggling mess.
This cookie is so so sweet to him. As if fire can be just a normal cookie like him. He laughs, sounding like the happy crackling of kindling in the campfires the wind makes on cold nights. “Windy—”
Wind Archer captures his lips again, and how could he think of anything else when his hands are pulling him closer as if the other doesn’t want to let go of this warmth just yet. Doesn’t want to let go of him yet. He can feel the way Wind Archer smiles against their lips, and he’s so so incredibly close, and yet he wants to pull him in more. He didn’t know how much he needed this until they met, and now, he never wants to let go.
Eventually, Fire Spirit pants, feeling lightheaded from their kisses while Wind Archer wraps his arm around his waist, pulling them closer to each other on the bridge. The wind turns his head to look at him, its gem glinting gold and its eyes glowing with a thousand emotions and thoughts that Fire Spirit can’t even begin to understand.
“So.. breathtaking…” Wind Archer murmurs quietly as he strokes his cheek so tenderly. “You truly are the light of my life.”
Fire Spirit tries to huff, but he ends up smiling instead. “You’re the reason I burn bright. You keep me strong, alive and… you make me feel… complete, and happy. Don’t ever leave me, please.”
Wind Archer laughs, as if the suggestion of leaving was such an impossible thought, it might as well have just been a joke. He hugs him close and kisses his cheek. “I won’t ever leave you, my Fire. I would never dream of it.” He says, and the kiss he presses against his lips feels like a promise that will last centuries.