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The winds carried through the forest in a lackluster manner, their once graceful elegance replaced with a languid trudge.
He was exhausted, put simply. As ironic as it may be, given he was the great wind, simply lifting his feet felt like a hassle. The Archer didn't know what tired him out so greatly, what about the simple patrol left him nearly immobile and desperately craving sleep, but here he was. His wings shuffled behind him with discomfort, the poor things were covered in fresh, uncomfortable pin feathers. Every couple seconds they'd shuffle, and shuffle, and shuffle; then they would spread for a moment before folding back neatly against his backside. The whole instinctual action somehow managed to push the guardian to over stimulation, tears threatening to flow as he trudged down the dirt path.
His gaze became unfocused as he moved on, the air around him becoming darker as fireflies came out. It was usually a sight he enjoyed deeply, the quiet walk back to his home where he could admire nature, it was a blessing to him after all. But yet all he could think of was getting home and laying down in his nest, hopefully falling into a peaceful slumber for the night. Maybe that peaceful slumber would be accompanied by an embrace from his beloved flame.
Oh, his dear fire.
His body shivered as he remembered the warmth of the man's embrace, his heart beating faster at the thought of his beautiful face that would gaze down upon him, maroon eyes looking at the wind with pure adoration. The way he kissed the gem that rested upon his forehead gently before moving on to preen the man's wings, whispering sweet words of praise lovingly as he plucked out each torn and ragged feather. Then he would stroke his warm hands through the wings for a bit, offering calm reassurance to his husband for a few minutes. Sometimes he'd make him tea during this time, using his own flames to heat the water before throwing in the raspberry tea packet, his lover's favorite. After that he'd let the pin feathers unfurl, praising his lover once more as he admired the sight of his beautiful wings.
After that the wind would prepare for sleep, changing into a looser outfit after showering. He'd lay down in the nest, watching carefully as the flame smacked on some jerky, usually while sketching in his small notebook. The small notebook the wind gifted him, specifically having enchanted the pages with a fire proof spell for him. He knew of the man's love for drawing and himself deeply adored it, smiling like a teenager every time he displayed a new piece. Most of the time he drew his wind, whether it was simple anatomical practice with him pulling back a strong while in the air or him depicting the grace of his lover's wings. The archer treasured every drawing deeply, having found himself going through the sketchbook numerous times just to see himself filling every page.
After his lover finished his snacking and drawing, he'd join the wind in their nest, usually being spooned by the archer as they would slowly submit to the soft and lulling haze of sleep. Or, his flame would sit down in their nest and stroke through green hair until its owner fell asleep. Or, the wind would do such to the flame, allowing his dough to slightly char as he would feel the warmth of soft flames. But his favorite by far was when the flame would come into the nest exhausted, floating down and dropping himself on the wind. Then he'd wrap his wings around the man, kissing his forehead repeatedly while repeating sweet words into his ears. He'd usually massage his muscles while doing it, further relaxing the exhausted inferno.
His inferno.
He could not comprehend how he got his lover, especially given their rocky start. The man had cluelessly walked into the forest, unknowing of how his flames would affect the flora around him. After many further conversations the archer learned that this was a result of his past, given he was once a mortal. Suddenly becoming the god of fire was definitely not expected, leaving him depressed at the whole idea of being unable to touch wild life. He caused a great forest fire that day, one that the archer spent hours putting out. To put it simply, he was mad at the man, at least he was back then. Eventually though, years upon years later, the spirit confessed on one of their evening walks. The Archer stayed silent at the beginning, simply asking for more time. The flame agreed, even with the shattered look in his eyes he waited. He waited for years, one of Wind Archer's greatest regrets. He'd ask once a month, always receiving the same plea for more time. It was clear that by the fifth year he was growing tired, avoiding the archer entirely for the sake of his own sanity. That was when he realised his mistake. The seventh month of the fifth year since the first request he reciprocated the feelings.
It started off strange, given how worn the spirit's love had become over the years. He didn't fully believe the fact that suddenly the Archer loved him, hence the constant need for assurance. Eventually the wind proposed though, a light green emerald placed at the center of a vine-like ring. The flame cried tears of ecstasy, hugging his lover with strength the wind never knew he had. But it was beautiful. That very year they had their wedding, all the guardians and many mortals showing up to witness them come together, fire and wind.
The thoughts were making him yearn for his lover all the more, his wings shuffling more and more often as he finally spotted a light in the distance. He ran towards it at full speed, ignoring the cramping of his legs, the begging of his arms, the haze in his mind, everything. The one thought in his mind was Fire Spirit.
“Woah! Windy what happened?” He was embraced by familiar blazing hot arms. Familiarity flooded his senses as he stuffed his face into the shorter man's neck, inhaling the ashy scent like a starved man. “Love? Are you alright?” He asked again, picking up the wind.
“Tired…” he mumbled, clinging onto his husband like he was his final source of sanity. He got a quick nod in response, said lover bringing him back to their shared cabin in the woods and setting him down in the bed. The wind did not approve of being separated from his lover, letting out a disgruntled noise as he stood up to follow the flame around before clinging onto him again.
“You've never been this clingy” the flame joked, his body molting up and down as he laughed. “Did you overwork yourself to exhaustion again love?” He asked, this time his tone was more serious, laced with concern. His only reply was a grumble in his shoulder and a green head pushing itself deeper into the crook of his neck. “I'm quite immobile when you hug me like this dear…” he complained, looking at the green tuft of hair to his right.
“Tired…” he mumbled again, adjusting himself to give his lover more room. “I was so overstimulated when I was coming back, my wings need preening again.” He sighed, coming back to his senses. “Sorry about the sudden clinginess, you're like the only thing that keeps me calm when I get to this point.”
He was met with giggles, tilting his head in confusion as maroon eyes looked into his, a grin on his face. “Awwww, Windy being clingy” he teased, testing the waters. He was met with an annoyed glance, a sigh following it.
“What will I ever do with you?” He shook his head “I dare show vulnerability and I'm mocked, how cruel.”
“I didn't mean it like that!” The spirit complained before shaking his head “you better get your butt right back here” he pointed to where the man had just been resting his head.
“You're so strange…” Wind Archer mumbled, resting his hands on his husband's waist before releasing a sound like a purr.
“You're acting like a cat” the flame commented, pouring the boiling hot water into a mug.
“Is that a bad thing?” The green one asked, tilting his head.
“Absolutely not, I like it.” He chuckled to himself, his free hand reaching down to rest his hands over the ones on his waist. “Like a big, fluffy cat with wings.”
“Your imagination never fails to amuse me.” He grumbled, playing around with the fire on his lover's body.
“And you married me, you yourself amuse me.” He giggled to himself, a sweet, soft sound. “Your new nickname is kitty.”
“Do not…” the archer complained, admittedly chuckling himself “then yours is “ I love drawing my husband instead of doing my duties” now what about that?”
“That's not a proper nickname.” Fire Spirit stated, giving his lover a tap on the nose. “It should be short, not a wall of text.”
“You're not denying it?” He asked, cocking an eyebrow.
“Can't deny facts.” He chuckled, glancing at his sketchbook.
“What happened to “deny all claims whether they are true or false?”” He asked curiously, warning a pause.
“It went up my butt and around the corner.” He shrugged.
“You're so strange…” he said again, glancing into maroon eyes.
“And you married me, who's truly the stranger one?” He shot back, earning a sigh of defeat.
“Can you preen my wings?” He grumbled softly.
“Haha! Topic changer! You lost!” He exclaimed gleefully, his flames becoming hotter for a moment with excitement. “But on a more serious note, absolutely.”
“Hurry up then…” he complained, gently tugging him towards the nest.
“Geez, you're out of it aren't you?” He asked, tilting his head.
“I'm exhausted and overstimulated, yes I will act strange.” He lectured before continuing to tug along his flame “come on Fire Spirit…”
“I'm coming, I'm coming.” He followed his lover to the bed, handing him the hit tea before sitting down behind him and starting the process. The great white limbs unfurled before him, their feathers looking like ones blessed by divinity. He gently stroked through them, feeling around for any wrong or broken ones. “So pretty,” he mumbled, plucking out a larger feather. It broke at the end, the smaller tendrils themselves appearing malformed. He finished the right Wing quickly before moving onto the left wing, continuing his praise while plucking out the feathers. “Mind taking your shirt off?” He asked, looking at his lover.
“Hm? Yeah sure.” He pulled off the cloth, revealing his back to his lover. It was also covered in feathers, given the man's avian anatomy. Very few feathers tended to get messed up in the back region but oftentimes older ones would fall out, in turn causing discomfort to his lover. Upon finishing with the first step of preening he ran his warm hands through the wings, listening as the purring like sound grew louder. “Hmmmm…” the archer hummed, his eyes lidded.
He then moved onto the pin feathers, gently twisting off the keratin shells and letting it float off. He moved through the wings skillfully, getting them fresh very quickly. After finishing up with the act he gestured for his lover to stand up, going to grab a towel and two loose pieces of clothes. “Cmon stinky you need a shower.”
“What are these insults…” his lover asked, looking up at the fire guardian who laughed “stinky… ? What are you, a third grader… ?”
“Well you smell of sweat, so before we sleep I believe you should be cleaned." He argued, shrugging. He was met with a tired nod, the winged man standing up and shaking his wings before looking at his lover.
“To the lake?” He asked, his voice monotone with exhaustion.
“Yep, just a quick rinse, come on” the flame guided him to their favorite lagoon. Frankly, all the archer could pay attention to during the walk was the soft glow of his lover's hair and the way it flickered in the night sky. He gazed up at it like a moth to light, unable to get his eyes off the gorgeous sight.
Soon enough he was forced into the water, soft grumbling coming from him as he washed himself before his husband. The man himself quickly changed into his pajamas, humming before looking back at the other. The wind gracefully left the water, his wings being weighed down by the heavy water that clung to them, he shook them quickly, the water falling off in small droplets. The flame laughed at the sight, waiting for his lover to change before guiding him back to the home.
Upon entering inside the wind clung onto his fire like a cat, his hands wrapped tightly around the man as he laid down in the nest. Fire Spirit chuckled the whole time, ruffling his lover's green hair as he settled into the cuddles. Great white wings were quickly put over him, being manhandled against the taller's chest like a plushy.
“I love you.” The green one whispered, “I love you like the sea loves the moon, my flame.” he cradled him closer “Goodnight my dear…” he yawned promptly, shaking his head before looking into maroon eyes. The soft glow of the moon illuminated the green one's face in a manner akin to that of a god. The flames that came from him only aided, the emerald eyes reflecting the beauty.
“Holy shit you're beautiful” he blurted, his eyes wide as he stared at him “holy crap I love you, fuck, oh my God” he repeated, eyes still wide.
“It's childish to curse as a guardian…” the green one reminded his lover with a small pinch before sighing “but yes, you are also very beautiful my flame.”
“Holy crap” he mumbled “this is real, I'm not daydreaming, I'm in the same bed as you.”
“We've been married for millennia dear… what are you on about…” he complained, sighing before chuckling. “Shush, sleep my dear.”
“Okay” he received the whisper “I love you Windy.” The flame pulled himself up to kiss his lover's cheek before falling back to look at him. He admired every feature lovingly, everything from the slight litter of freckles to the small Cupid's bow on his lips, he admired it all. A green hand went up to cup orange cheeks, gently stroking over the soft yet blazing hot dough. Fire Spirit could see the way emerald eyes stayed slightly open to admire his flame before sleep, a smile resting upon the forest guardian's face before he finally let himself give into sleep.
“I love you” the flame whispered again. He knew no one would answer, he knew his lover was asleep, yet he still felt the need to say that. To hear himself say it, to remind himself that what he was seeing was in fact real. He gazed into the green face for what felt like hours, his eyes slowly closing as he took the remaining energy to get a mental note of every detail in his lover's face. Hopefully it would allow the dream version of his husband to be as accurate to the real one as possible. With the haze of sleep threatening to overtake him, he finally rested his eyes, quickly succumbing to the numbing yet comforting sensation of sleep in a lover's hold.
The fire and wind danced around one another peacefully.