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Fire Spirit ripped Wind Archer’s tunic off.
His reddish-orange fingers dug underneath the clothing that the Wind Guardian wore, yanking at the green fabric. He pulled it off from the Archer—over his head, and tossed the shirt aside upon the bed that they’d shared comfort within, admiring the one that laid underneath his grasp.
He stares intently, at Wind Archer, his chest, his muscular arms, honed from drawing a bow and arrow in service of both the sacred Millennial Tree and Sugar Swan. Soft, cool and chartreuse skin—not just his figure though, but his face as well; his ethereal features, the glowing green of the verdant gem embedded on his forehead, his pale lashes, those brilliant viridescent eyes… Wind Archer.
Admiration would be an understatement. He’d worship Wind Archer willingly, devote his life to him if it meant being with the Wind Guardian. The type of overwhelming adoration where Fire Spirit would incase the world in devastating, beautiful flames if it meant eternally being with him.
The Flame Guardian lets out a breathless exhale, almost chuckling as he leaned down towards Wind Archer’s neck, nipping at the skin that shone brightly with the warm light of his flames. The touch of Spirit’s warm lips to his lover sent a shiver down the wind’s spine, which Wind Archer then responds so utterly sweetly with warm huffs—exhaling as he tries to keep from sputtering sounds that’d embarrass himself.
Fire Spirit pauses, his breath hot against the soft skin on Wind Archer’s collarbone. He lifts his head a few centimeters, meeting half-lidded eyes that shone with a bright emerald luster. He reaches a thumb out, gently brushing a lock of loose hair away from the archer’s cheekbone. He stared, utterly dumbfounded. It’s unbelievable how someone like Wind Archer—someone so beautiful, so divine, quite literally woven from the purest winds—is with him, right now, right in front of him.
“Heheh… Never knew that you’d have such a dirty mouth, Windy…” Fire Spirit says, a low voice with obvious hints of playful teasing. The corner of his mouth curled upwards in a triumphant smirk.
“Hah… How could I ever resist such temptations while with someone like you, my flame?” The archer responses, gentle but definitely a counter-challenge, his eyes never leaving Fire Spirit’s.
Fire Spirit’s face flushed, the heat within his cheeks and chest bursts, seemingly rising to a higher temperature. This damn charmer! And he hardly even said anything!
“You have such a sweet way with words ya know?” Fire Spirit coos, reaching for one of Wind Archer’s hands, feeling calloused skin—but still soft and cool within Fire Spirit’s grasp. Lifting their joined fingers up to his face, he plants warm kisses on each one of the archer’s knuckles. Deliberately lingering his lips on every one slowly, leaving a warm breath at every spot.
The Flame Guardian pulled his face away from Wind Archer’s hands, digging his face within the crook of the other’s neck and shoulder. The smooth skin of the wind cooling his own burning face.
“Is that so?” Wind Archer hums, shifting his head. “Then I shall shower you with my words if it means you stick around.”
“Reallly?” Fire Spirit teased, but in truth he does want to be caressed by his lover’s words.
“Hm,” Wind Archer hummed, soft sounds laced with care carried by the gales. “The light in your flame has brought me to understand this love which I had used to believe was a thing I had no space in my life for. You have proven me wrong, and for centuries I have grown so incredibly fond of your presence, Fire Spirit.”
Fire Spirit’s eyes glowed at the praises, his flame bursting, intensified at the pure joy from his lover’s words. He huffs out a breathless laugh, echoing through the dim lights with this empty house. “Okay that’s enough...” He pressed his forehead against the cool gem, his hands slipping in between the empty spaces from the bed and the Wind Guardian.
“…Don’t bother getting poetic with me… You know I’d be around regardless of if you speak or not,” He murmured with a playful undertone behind his words, he hitched in his breath, then shifted his head so his gaze would return to Wind Archer’s face, “Don’t ever stop talking, though… I’d miss your voice.”
Wind Archer’s chest swelled as he took another deep, heavy breath. He reached his free hand up, letting his fingers roam and brush through the silky blaze of Fire Spirit’s flame.
Wind Archer then huffs out a soft chuckle—a delayed response to the Fire Spirit’s comment. The Flame Guardian soon joins, and their shared laughter brought that familiar warm to their chests once more. To think a once boundless wind spirit and a once loveless mortal cookie are here now, holding each other in their arms. It was such an utterly and pure moment.
Fire Spirit hadn’t always been this guardian that he is now. His mortal life from centuries ago was interrupted. Fate had cursed him, as he wandered off away from his homeland and got trapped in the eternal flames in Dragon’s Valley. That did, however, eventually lead to him making a deal with the Red Dragon—soon gaining his guardian powers and role at the Flame Guardian.
It’s something that haunts Fire Spirit.
If the Red Dragon hadn’t agreed to their deal he wouldn’t be here now,if he never wandered into the Dragon’s Valley in the first place he would’ve grown old as a mortal and passed away hundreds of years ago.
There’s tons of ‘what-ifs’ but at the end he had endured the torturous flames, bringing him to the present time Fire Spirit.
He was so lucky then, and even now Fire Spirit feels like one of the luckiest cookies on all of Earthbread.
If in every universe he could get an ending like this, even if it meant needing to burn in flames and be reborn as the flame guardian, hundreds of times over to be with the Wind Guardian—even for just a brief moment, he’d take that chance every time.
“You’re everything to me,” Fire Spirit spontaneously says, after reminiscing about their shared fond memories and the current moment, he shifts his weight, wrapping his hands more firmly at the angelic guardian in his arms.
“I love you, Wind Archer…”
“You know I love you as well.” The Wind Guardian murmured, his arms wrapped around the waist of the Spirit’s, he gently seemed to rub his thumbs in circles around that area.
“You should kiss me now, Windy.” Fire Spirit says, interrupting the silence yet again with not a single drop of shame behind his words. Almost a (of course—loving) demand.
“Hm, and if I don’t?”
The Flame Guardian’s playful cocky demeanor is immediately replaced with a dramatic frown, or pout. Bringing Wind Archer to gentle laughter, the wind shifted his arms in response, bringing his face down to plant a kiss on Fire Spirit’s forehead.
“I was kidding, you know?”
“Mhm… Rightt… Sure, just say that you secretly hate me.” Fire Spirit persisted with his moping, dramatically sighing before turning his head and digging his face into the archer’s chest.
The Archer chuckles again before gently tugging at Fire Spirit’s torso—pulling him closer and into a gentle but oh-so utterly tender embrace. The kiss explodes in their mouths, giving the same amount of exhilaration as their first. Gentle and firmly holding onto one another as their breaths tangled, drowning each other in a shared bliss.
When they did pull away, he’d look at his lover, watching the wind’s eyes staring back. Mesmerized by the dream, his holy light and only.
‘Cause in truth, Fire Spirit would be perfectly delighted if he could simply sit next to the archer, and take in his very presence.
He’d willingly listen to Wind Archer’s talking, even if their conversations become a back and forth of bickering.
He’d stare at the walls of this very room, laying next to the archer on the same mattress.
He’d distract the Wind Guardian from his responsibilities, dragging him to a distant beach as they’d saunter along the coast, the sun setting over the horizon of shimmering tides.
He’d chase the archer, running to look through every door—every opportunity, to come across Wind Archer if it meant he’d find him in every lifetime.
Fire Spirit blinks, once, twice and after that haze in his head fades away, allows that stupid grin of his to override his calm—a cocky smirk with very obvious and immature intentions.
“...Can I say it?”
Wind Archer groans, rolling his eyes as an attempt to hide his own fond smile.
“You’d say it regardless of what I say.”
“Heh… That was so rizzy of ya, Windy…”
“...And here I was hoping you’d change it up this time…”
“Nope, never!... Now c’mon and kiss me again, you womanizer!”