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Riverran was on a roll. This year, the Queen’s birthday was being celebrated with more pomp than ever before. The city centre and the large park had been completely transformed with streamers, lights, some sculptures and flower arrangements. Local bands were already performing on the main stage, warming up the crowd for the headliner: The White Walkers.
How Oscar Tully had managed to lure them out of the North was anyone’s guess, but he was extremely proud of himself. He’d been bragging about it for weeks.
And, of course, there were fireworks.
Stalls lined every path, selling food, drinks, glitter tattoos, flower crowns, light-up swords - anything that could be held, eaten, or worn. And the people? Everywhere. It felt like the entire Riverlands had shown up.
Davos pushed his way through the crowd, grumbling under his breath. Somehow, he had lost both Benji and Lukas, which was impressive considering they had been right next to him five minutes ago. He tried calling them, but neither picked up.
Of course.
He shoved his phone back in his pocket and sighed.
Benji had probably thrown himself into the mosh pit near the stage by now. He would definitely get into a fight before the night was over - maybe two if the music got loud enough. Lukas, on the other hand, would be floating between food stalls, happily eating his body weight looking for somewhere to sit down and have a nap.
Davos didn’t feel like fighting in a crowd or eating too much. Not tonight.
His goal was the fireworks. Oscar had told them in secret that this year's display would be extraordinary. So Davos turned away from the music and chaos, heading towards the quieter part of the park.
The far end of the grounds sloped down towards the Red Fork river. First came a climb up the hill, then a gentle descent to the riverbank itself. This was the usual spot for anyone trying to escape the main crowd, and tonight it would be the perfect place to watch the show.
Still… wasn’t it too early? The sky was only just starting to darken, the first stars barely visible.
But Davos kept walking, hands shoved in his pockets, head down. He had just started up the slope when he heard someone shout:
“Blackwood!”
Shit.
He muttered a curse under his breath and turned slowly.
The Frey rat pack. Four of them.
Fucking shit.
Benji had argued with them online just yesterday, calling them rodent-faced inbreds and promising to knock their teeth out the next time they met. Now, of course, Benji was nowhere to be found. There was only Davos. And four Freys who looked like they were ready for a fight.
He just wanted to watch the fireworks. Was that really too much to ask?
Not that he couldn’t take them. They fought like shit - spindly arms, big mouths, no real weight behind their punches - but it would be a waste of time. And if someone called the guards…
Davos exhaled heavily, rolling his shoulders and loosening his fists as they began to circle him.
Then… “Found you!”
Someone pushed between them and grabbed Davos as if he were their property.
Everyone froze.
“Hello, guys. What’s going on here?” said a too-cheerful voice.
Davos blinked. Aeron Bracken.
An arm wrapped firmly - very firmly - around Davos’ waist. The Freys looked confused. Not nearly as confused as Davos.
“Listen, Bracken,” one of them muttered, “we’re having a bit of a fight here, so back off and stay out of the way.”
Aeron, still glued to Davos’ side, let out a scandalised “What?” and turned to him like he was personally offended.
Davos, for reasons unknown to man or gods, suddenly felt like a schoolboy about to get yelled at.
Aeron shook his head like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, then turned back to the Freys with a dramatic sigh.
“Reschedule,” he said with a casual wave of his hand. “Tomorrow - no, wait. He’s busy tomorrow. Try next week.”
Addam Frey actually laughed. “Are you nuts?”
“Am I nuts?” Aeron snapped, his voice rising theatrically. “My uncle’s away on business, my cousins are in King’s Landing, and this idiot decides now is a good time to start a fight?”
He shot Davos an exasperated glare.
Silence.
Then came a few quiet snorts from the Freys. Davos stayed quiet, mostly because Aeron’s grip on his waist had subtly tightened - just enough to pinch. On purpose, probably.
Then Emmon turned his head to Davos. “Wait, are you fucking him!?”
Davos choked. Aeron laughed.
“Oh, only if he behaves,” Aeron said lightly, and then - because the gods clearly hated Davos - he reached up and turned Davos’ face towards him, brushing a thumb over his cheek.
“Have you been a good boy today?” he asked.
He said it low. Smooth. With the look. The one where he stared straight into Davos’ eyes, then let his gaze drift - slowly, deliberately - to his mouth.
Davos forgot how to breathe for a moment.
“…Not really,” he managed, with a long, tragic sigh.
Aeron clicked his tongue in disapproval, rolling his eyes like he was personally burdened by Davos’ behavior.
Then he turned back to the Freys, face blank now - flat, unimpressed. A silent what the fuck are you still doing here sort of look.
They muttered something vague like whatever, not worth it anyway and slunk off, disappearing into the crowd.
A few seconds later, Davos realised that he was holding a Bracken. Or, more accurately, being held by one. Aeron was laughing somewhere into his neck.
Gods, he hoped he wouldn’t lean in any closer.
Because the way he’d looked at Davos earlier - the voice, the touch, the thumb on his cheek, who even does that?
It had definitely caused a reaction. A very physical one.
Shit.
This was probably his lifelong dream. Just… not like this.
“Aeron,” he tried, aiming for reason.
Aeron just waved a hand lazily, head still tucked against Davos’ neck, giggling like the whole thing was hilarious.
Davos caught a few curious glances from the crowd. Did someone take a photo? Oh, shit…
“I’m hungry,” Aeron declared, suddenly letting go only to grab Davos’ hand instead, dragging him straight towards the food stalls.
Davos was certain they would grab something quick to eat and part ways. Not that he wanted that, but realistically, what else could he expect?
Except… that didn’t happen.
Instead, they wandered the fair. Aeron still held his hand, their fingers intertwined as if it meant nothing at all. Like this was normal. Like they were normal.
Davos kept waiting for Aeron to realise what the fuck he was doing. But no, the boy was fine. Laughing, glancing over his shoulder, pulling Davos this way and that through the crowd like it was all one big game. And somehow, to everyone around them, it must’ve looked like… a date.
Aeron looked stupidly good, too. The kind of good that made Davos’ brain short-circuit if he looked too long. The fair lights caught in his hair, his cheeks were a little pink from the evening chill, and he smiled like he had no idea what kind of damage he was doing.
“Do you have any cash?” Aeron turned to him, holding up a hand-carved wooden horse keychain, eyes wide and pleading.
Of course he’d found the one ancient old man at the entire fair who didn’t take cards or transfers.
Davos sighed and reached for his wallet. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve got it,” he muttered, trying not to think about how easily Aeron got away with everything.
And trying even harder not to think about how much he liked it.
They stopped at one of the quieter paths, paper cones of hot fried potatoes in hand, nibbling as they listened to the music. Somehow, the evening had slipped by without him noticing. The sky was full dark now, the lights bright and flickering in every direction. Judging by the heavy guitar solo echoing through the park, the White Walkers had taken the stage.
“Is it true there’s a Stark in the band? What do you think?” Aeron leaned into him with a lazy grin, close enough for his shoulder to press against Davos’.
“Well, definitely not Cregan,” Davos said, instinctively sliding an arm around Aeron’s waist. “There’s no one that massive up there.”
Aeron let out a snort. He didn’t move away.
“Shall we go to the hill? Or maybe…” His voice trailed off, suddenly uncertain. “Maybe you wanted to get closer to the stage?”
Davos shook his head. “We’ll have a good view of the fireworks from up there.”
The slope overlooked the park perfectly - stage lights still visible in the distance, the music just right. They stood side by side, the world a blur of sound and color and too much feeling.
Aeron shivered slightly beside him.
Without thinking, Davos moved behind him and wrapped his arms around Aeron, pulling him into a warm hug. Aeron didn’t resist. Simply leaned back against him, while Davos rested his head on his shoulder. They swayed gently with the music.
Davos wasn’t sure if he was breathing anymore.
“Can I crash at your place tonight?” Aeron turned to face him, his hands went across Davos waist. “Empty Stone Hedge terrifies me. Fucking medieval castle. No one’s home today. I’d offer you to stay instead, but then you’d think it’s a trap or something. Like my kin would jump out and beat you up later.”
Davos let out a shaky breath. “Okay,” he said.
What the fuck are you doing, Davos?
“We’ve got guest bedrooms,” he added quickly.
As if he’d be interested in yours ...
Davos sighed, and Aeron caught the sound. He frowned a little.
“Thanks for today,” Davos said, a bit quieter. “But you didn’t have to. I mean, rumours will spread. And why did they even believe it? Benji’s right, the Freys are idiots.”
He shifted slightly, still close, still not letting go. Their eyes met, and there was something almost teasing in Aeron’s gaze, but then it softened. His fingers brushed gently across Davos’ cheek.
“They believed it,” Aeron said, voice warm, “because the rumours had already spread.”
Davos stared at him.
Aeron bit his lip lightly and smiled. “Because even I have noticed how you look at me when you think I’m not paying attention.” His fingers trailed down to Davos’ throat, featherlight. “Like I’m something precious.”
Davos’ heart skipped. Maybe stopped.
“Like you can’t get enough of me,” Aeron murmured, his lips brushing Davos’ burning cheek, “Like you love me.”
Davos froze. Every breath and heartbeat had led to this moment. Aeron’s lips were now barely a breath away.
“And you know what?”
Davos didn’t move. He couldn’t.
“I feel the same.”
The sky exploded with light. A firework roared overhead, shaped like a golden dragon, soaring with beauty and majesty, its wings unfurling across the stars.
Like the Queen herself had sent it, blessing the two kissing boys on the Red Fork hill…