It was a careless and stupid gesture, more of a brush of lips and a bump of noses than anything else. He was angry rather than surprised when it was finished. Typical of Sieg to be such a dumbass about things.
“What the hell was that for?!”
“Eeeh… that’s not the way you’re supposed to react.”
The pout on Sieg’s face reminds Roberto, vaguely, of a dog that used to follow the Knights around back in the capital. The thing had been a stupid mongrel, all crooked eared and bent-tailed and slobbery, but it hadn’t been a bad mutt.
Now he kind of wished that he hadn’t made the comparison, because it makes it just that much harder to sock Sieg in the face and not feel like he’s abusing an animal.
“I kissed like Marica said I ought to, you know! Did the best that I could!” the supreme commander of destiny’s army huffed. “You should be happy!”
“You call that a kiss?”
“What? You think you can do better?”
And that was all it took to chase the Weird and Awkward out the door, usher in the Burning Need to Outdo His Biggest Rival, and push Roberto to fist Siege’s shirt up into his fist and jerk him over, to smash their lips together.
Later that day, Meruvis spots Sieg and Roberto tumbling together in the grass. It initially appeared as though they were wrestling, but a closer look quickly proves him wrong.
He’s not quite sure what to make of that.
“Meruvis?” Chrodechild appears on cue, wandering over, eyeing the look on his face with some amount of curiosity. “What are you looking at?” she asks, just as she’s stepping in to follow his gaze. He dutifully plants himself between his commander and the scenery and steers her off.
“Matters of training and rivalry, ma’am,” he declares with brisk professionalism. “Now, let us discuss something else.”
“…And I definitely won that one!” Roberto proudly proclaims the morning after. He is in excellent spirits, flushed with his reputed triumph over Sieg. He has just spent the entirety or breakfast recounting the events in vivid detail.