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Time couldn’t say when it started. As timelines and eras passed them by like fireflies, a couple of months became a blur. Besides, it wasn’t like this was something he needed to count and recount for a quota, this was just Twilight.
He leans back on the couch, taking full advantage of his boys all sleeping already. It is a quiet, peaceful night. Malon lies in their bedroom upstairs slumbering without worry and Talon is in Castletown for the night. All is well and how it should be. Even his boys have their bedrolls arranged in the guest bedroom like a puppy pile, sleeping easily to the sound of living, breathing companions.
Puppy pile. Time huffs a breath, looking down at the only one of his boys still somewhat awake.
Twilight lays stretched out out across the couch, head in Time’s lap. He growls softly as he shifts around, mild discomfort forcing his upper lip up to expose a fang tooth. Time smooths a hand over thick, fluffy hair. He scritched the brown fluff with intent, fully aware of how thick his pup’s hair really is.
It’s not like Twilight is a dog to be leashed and collared in ownership. Time would never do that to the young man who loves to run freely, wander and patrol and take his own time. Still, in moments like this where Twilight wants to feel more loved pet than man, Time can’t help imagining a scarf around his neck, like the farm-dogs he’s seen around. Not as ownership, but belonging. Twilight would always have a place at Lon Lon Ranch, in either form. Sometimes, Time is tempted to make sure everyone else knows that, too.
Time digs his nails further into near-course brown hair. His whole palm rests against Twilight’s head and leaves a faint imprint behind when he lifts it. Carefully, Time cradles his hand against the side of Twilight’s head. A blue eye opens to peer up at him. Time ignores it, and settles his fingers in just the right place to scratch behind Twilight’s ear. Twilight shivers in delight and wiggles, pushing his head against Time’s hand.
Did Time understand exactly what was happening? No. Did that change anything, ever, for him? Also no. As far as Time could tell, falling into a wolfie-like mindset let the rancher be at ease for a while. If Time could grant his descendant more than a moment’s respite, he would.
Twilight turns his head, lightly nipping at Time’s fingers with sharp teeth. He grabs hold with sharp teeth and shakes his head, as if playing with a chew toy. Time restrains his laughter, but lets a small grin pop up the corners of his mouth. The single candle left burning illuminates Twilight’s open face, head all simple thoughts and instinctual actions right now.
Despite how gentle Twilight plays, Time still spots an indentation of teeth when he pulls his fingers away. Nothing serious, just dips in unbroken skin. Time wiggles his fingers over Twilight’s face, before moving them underneath his chin instead. Twilight goes still, instinctual wariness creeping in at the hand so close to his unprotected throat.
Still, he allows Time to do as he pleases. It warms Time’s heart to have somehow earned that trust. Once upon a time, Twilight barely allowed himself to cuddle against Time in hylian form, too embarrassed to realize Time had seen and done far weirder things, and truly did not mind.
Now, Twilight cuddles up to him easily in quiet, private moments. In all honesty, Time doesn’t hate it. Few have been brave enough to brave his one-eyed stare besides his wife. Yet here is his descendant relaxed against himself, heavy head on his lap like a hundred stuffed toys and warmer than all of them. It is not the worst feeling.
Time scratches underneath his pup’s chin, and watches his boy melt. He slackens, head resting against Time’s stomach and eyes closed.
Yes, this was just fine.