The wind whipped at his hair as he finally reached the flat summit of the cliffs of Upland Zorana. He almost expected the grass and trees and everything in between to be marked with dew, as if Vah Ruta’s rains still fell across the domain. Instead, the air was only lightly humid and the sun warm and the sky clear as crystal. Link breathed in, squinting in the sunlight down at the interwoven bridges and scaled arches of King Dorephan’s palace.
His heart tumbled into a panic the moment he leapt from the cliffs to make his way down on his paraglider. What did one do when they were an honored member of the court visiting after a long time gone? What was proper? Proper wasn’t failing to send word ahead of him, probably. It hadn’t occurred to him until this moment, until he couldn’t turn back, of course. Link had an inkling that even in his life before he’d never known how to be proper.
Uncertainty came and went, frequent but fading for Link since he had finished the only task he’d been given upon awakening in Hyrule, and this time was no different: once an updraft caught and held him, he allowed the wind to push all of the confused thoughts behind him in the quiet minute he floated through the air, and when he landed, he was alright again.
He shook himself. And then climbed the steps to the throne room.
King Dorephan welcomed him with booming laughter and sweeping arms, and before Link knew it a banquet was announced for the evening to honor their heroic guest. Link didn’t even have time to ask where he might find the prince. Instead he was rushed to a big guest room with a seductive waterbed, and once he laid down his sword and shield, again he was rushed to the baths, and then rushed through the royal spa until he felt unrecognizable, raw-pink from furious scrubbing and shined with fragrant oils. By the time he was ready the sky was white-blue with the late afternoon sun—time for a feast.
Rush, rush, rush to his chambers for formal clothes laid out for him, then rush, rush, rush to the banquet hall where crowds of Zora courtiers gathered and shook his hand and told him how honored they were to meet him, so different from his first visit. He smiled and nodded, even if he didn’t feel like smiling at all—more guilty with every minute that perhaps he’d only come back here for one thing. Not this thing, certainly.
Trumpets sounded and Link jerked his head to look at the hall entrance, but everyone else moved toward the long banquet piled high with food. King Dorephan commanded him to sit in the middle of the south side of the curving table, planted himself firmly in the west, and so directly across Link could see the north place of honor, where the heir to the throne sat. It was empty, a tall sleek-silver chair, until the final fanfare from the Zoran coronets.
Prince Sidon strode into the room with a wide smile, apologizing gracefully as he bowed to his father and the other courtiers before sitting just as gracefully, as the sound of twinkling harp music rose around them and glasses began to clink.
Link stared at him.
“Fellow Zora, tonight we welcome back an esteemed guest, a friend and hero—a hero who brought back the sun,” King Dorephan rumbled.
The words, of course, almost shocked Sidon up out of his seat as he lifted his head to find who was sitting in the southern chair. Finding Link—who else could it be but him?—Sidon’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open… and then it split into the biggest grin.
To see him in that moment—to see the split open look in Sidon’s face when they met eyes across the banquet hall—made him ache to think he’d been away for so long. Had it really been two years?
Time was funny, for him.
And remembering that made him ache more.
He pushed food around his plate and tried not to look up at Sidon anymore, but then someone would laugh or silverware would clatter or the music would lull and fold over into another pleasant melody and Link blinked. Bit his lip. Tilted his head up a little.
And Sidon was tilting his own head, his neck decorated with new jewels and his shoulders relaxed as he leaned toward an elderly Zora to his right to say something charming, and then… looked up at Link again. Another smile crept across his face, something wobbly but kind, even with the glint of his teeth, for a small moment. His eyes were bright topaz and his cheeks the lightest pink and Link looked away because he never wanted to look away.
He didn’t remember a time where he felt such a twisting in his stomach. He’d felt lost before but never ill with an unnameable thing.
He gulped the entirety of his goblet of water and slipped away from the table of chattering courtiers quite into their cups. Down corridor after corridor he wandered until he could only hear a hammering heartbeat in his ears and not the whisper of something he didn’t know—something terrifying.
A lump welled up in his throat and he gasped for air, leaning onto a nearby windowsill and staring unseeing onto Ruto Lake below.
The voice, ordinarily so exuberant, was soft, but it still startled him. It seized his chest so sharply he reached for the hilt of a weapon on his back and grasped at air instead. Embarrassed, Link pressed his palm to his neck and looked helplessly out the window instead of into Sidon’s strange-beautiful face above him.
“Are you alright?”
Link nodded. And then, when he couldn’t help it anymore, looked up into warm-yellow eyes.
Sidon knelt down and next, long-fingered hands reached for him. Link nearly fell into them, stumbling a little as he lifted his arms and tucked himself against Sidon’s big chest. They’d never done anything like this, even after fighting together, but there was something both natural and incredible about it.
I don’t know if I’m alright, Link wanted to say.
But Sidon’s next words comforted him. “I could say I’d nearly forgotten you, but I cannot lie. I’ve missed you like another 100 years has passed since you left for Death Mountain.”
Link snorted wetly, and realized his eyes were watering. He leaned back and Sidon was grinning down at him. After a choked moment, he rolled his eyes as if to say, You’re so dramatic! and Sidon chuckled, his chest vibrating under Link’s hands.
It was like he could understand him perfectly.
Link laughed too, until they were giggling helplessly in the corridor.
“You must have so many stories to tell! You look the same and so different! My dear friend, you are so—” Sidon broke off for a moment. His hands dwarfed Link’s waist as he held him. He ducked his head, looking away. “Have you missed me as well?”
Link nodded so furiously he nearly lost balance. His hands crept up and, even if Sidon couldn’t know well what he meant, perhaps because Sidon couldn’t know he signed, I didn’t realize how much I could miss someone. Until tonight, he’d put away this part of himself. Perhaps it felt sudden—realizing—because of time, and distance, and because he’d never had time before to give it any thought. Just gut reactions, just whipping his sword in a quick arc and fighting because his life and the world depended on it.
Pointed claws drifted gently over his arm before Sidon pulled back. Only to reach for Link’s long hair, braided behind one ear and left long and sleek from his baths. Above it trickled a long ruby teardrop pierced through his pointed ear, and beneath it on his collar were silver threads that twinkled like shooting stars. Curling a lock of Link’s hair around a finger, Sidon said, “They did a number on you!”
“A good number—although no one could hide your wildness. It’s in your eyes!”
Link grinned around his warm cheeks. You don’t fool anyone either, he joked.
“I must study so I can listen to you properly,” Sidon murmured with a sheepish smile. “You’ll help me learn, yes?” And then, too quickly for Link to nod he added, “Do you want to go back to the banquet?”
Link shook his head, fingers digging a little into Sidon’s arms, watching him wet his lips in a flashing second.
“Do you want to walk with me?”
And they went.
Unspoken, as things were at least on Link’s part, Sidon seemed to understand that Link didn’t want to wander back into the wilds beyond the palace walls. He’d spent enough time doing that! Sidon led him instead deeper into the palace, up rows of hidden staircases to a grand hallway with tall ceilings, at the end of which a pair of doors loomed, wreathed in silver.
Clearing his throat, Sidon pressed a big hand to one door and it gave, revealing a vast room with vast windows overlooking a vast landscape. Link could see the edges of the Eastern Reservoir Lake with just a glance. He took in the rest of the room, which seemed to be someone’s royal chambers: just ahead an ornate table stood by the windows piled high on one side with books and maps, a set of glass goblets and a jug, flanked by two plush chairs; to his left and right along the walls were shelves lined to the ceiling with artifacts so rare and foreign that only someone very rich and important would have been able to acquire them (or someone who knew where to look, Link thought with a slight smirk); above them a chandelier flowed out from the center of the room with silver and glass tendrils like a creature of the deep sea; and at the end of the room a grand bed stood with silken and velvety sheets, four posts that looked an awful lot like the palace itself—regal fish standing on their heads to show their gleaming scales.
Link looked at Sidon.
“Ah, welcome to my room. This is—forgive me—it’s one of the few places we could be alone without interruption. Not that—I mean…” Sidon, who was usually so confident and talkative, tripped over his words. “I just would rather spend as much time as I can with such a rare friend as you.”
Link took in a breath and touched Sidon’s wrist before he became too shy, moving into the room and hopping onto the chair next to the head of the table with forced bravado. Crossing his ankles and swinging them back and forth, he tugged a tome full of archery history off the pile in front of him and skimmed a section about handling double arrows until Sidon sat down with him, and after that, he pulled what looked like a jug of wine toward him and filled glasses for them both.
You first, Link signed after taking a gulp. Tell me.
Sidon told him all about the kingdom since they’d last seen each other, about the growing Zora population, about their thriving crops and silver trade, even about the new Hylian settlements established within their borders. Sidon was an Ambassador now, and took charge of protecting their new citizens, establishing ‘cultural exchange,’ and keeping the peace.
Link really liked watching him talk—he had an air of being very young for someone so big and ferocious. He talked with his hands and eyes, brightly, loudly, but Link leaned in as if he only whispered. The wine was strong, and slowly Link grew warm and soft with the light as the sun set and the sky sank to periwinkle behind them. Sidon glowed with it, at first from the sun itself and then from within—lanterns slowly gleaming along his crest, his sprawled thigh, and his arm folded under his chin as he leaned toward Link.
As the prince recounted a funny tale about a small skirmish over stolen fortified pumpkins, Link took another taste of his wine. Swallowing, distracted by the burn in his throat, he stared curiously at the bioluminescent markings along Sidon’s bicep, and wondered if they were warm.
“And you would not believe what this farmer said to her brother, then—oh!”
Sidon was very close, Link found, which may have been explained by the fact that Link had leaned in so much he could trace his fingers over Sidon’s skin without reaching far at all.
Link snatched his hand away, and the warmth faded a little from his fingers. No heat came from Sidon’s markings, but from Sidon’s skin, it seemed—hot and smooth and strong. Even having satisfied his curiosity, Link burned with embarrassment.
Sidon chewed on his lip as Link brushed his hair from his eyes. “I must be boring you,” he said with a chuckle, cheeks blushing a hint of blue. “I can try to… I want to know about everything you’ve experienced—everywhere you’ve been!”
Link’s heart skipped a beat at his earnestness. He struggled a moment to find a way to tell him, but then remembered something.
The Sheikah slate murmured to life when he hoisted it from his belt. Here, he signed with one hand. He rose from his chair and shuffled around to Sidon’s side so they could both look at his collection of images, starting at the beginning:
A mountainous sunset interrupted with birds. A lopsided building with a telescope. A yellow-blue sunlit sky on a rolling hill, with horses grazing in the distance.
Link pointed to the cream-colored horse, almost a spec on the screen.
“Your horse?” Sidon asked, squinting at it before shooting him a grin.
Link nodded, smiling and leaning against the table, knee bumping Sidon’s leg when he lifted himself onto the table to face Sidon while they scrolled through. Sidon reached around, face close for a frozen second before he placed Link’s goblet in his free hand. He brought his own wine to his lips next and looked interestedly at the Sheikah slate.
Next, a stable tucked against a growing, craggy landscape of red earth. The tail of Vah Rudania hidden behind Death Mountain’s pillar of ash clouds. Link with a Goron child. An endless river of magma. Then, more landscapes, more dark mountains dotted with strange orange lights, lights and colors and danger and beauty and loneliness. To desert heat. To pretending, with silks and veils and golden jewels.
Sidon made a curious noise at one picture, pulling the slate closer (and Link with it) so he could see the blonde figure better in the clothes of the Gerudo as he lay in a bunk at the Hotel Oasis. Precariously balanced on his tiptoes and fighting another rush of red to his cheeks, Link yelped and shuffled through more images—a lightning storm, and bunches strange yellow fruits, and sand seals and deceptively kind smiles of the strong vai. Link alone atop Vah Naboris. Then suddenly snow.
Pictures and pictures and pictures, all peppered with Link on some precipice, some quiet hill or shore or beneath an apple tree, alone.
They came to the end of Link’s journey after a long while, and by then Link was curled heavily into Sidon’s side. Sidon’s hand traced over the last image—the one Link had taken that morning after reaching Upland Zorana and seeing the familiar land stretched out before him.
“I wish I could have traveled with you,” Sidon said after a while. His voice was low like gravel.
Link huffed out a laugh, chin against his chest and wine goblet tilting.
But Sidon closed his hand over Link’s wrist, pressing his fingers down over the slate until it lay flat on the table. “To venture out on your own for so long—only someone so brave could do it.”
Link shrugged. He tried not to shiver at the feeling of Sidon’s hand on his. Instead he hid his twisting mouth behind his wine.
“And to defeat Calamity Ganon as well—” Sidon’s voice cut out. “Link, I think you’re the bravest person I’ve ever met.”
Link looked up, and Sidon was reaching out, brushing the pad of his thumb to Link’s cheek before playing once again with the braid of his hair now unraveling as the night wore on. There was something in his chest unraveling too. That same unnamable something from before, but growing and stretching and warm. Maybe if he chased it he could feel it in the tips of his fingers, the pit of his belly, the ends of his toes?
Link dropped his goblet, but Sidon didn’t seem to care. He just laughed softly and watched as Link raised his hand and pressed it over Sidon’s on his cheek.
“Your skin is burning hot,” Sidon observed, curious.
I’m—I’m overwhelm—I’m drunk! Link tried to sign, but Sidon just leaned in and pressed his lips to the spot his thumb had touched moments ago.
“I’m afraid I’m a bit drunk. And you’re wonderful,” Sidon whispered, breath tickling. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Ah,” Link gasped quietly, and turned his head so he could kiss. Sidon made a surprised-relieved sound and submitted to Link’s clumsy mouth. Rubbing soft, and then slick, when Link took a breath and licked his lips, they hummed quiet and explored. That is, until Link lost his balance again and toppled into Sidon.
“I have you,” Sidon murmured. He didn’t miss a beat when he pulled Link into his lap, arms wrapping easily around Link’s body, squeezing eagerly until Link gasped with an old ache at his ribs. “I’m sorry—did I hurt you?”
Link shook his head vehemently. Kiss me again and I’ll feel better! he wanted to say, but his hands were too busy gripping Sidon’s shoulders. He wanted to hold on forever.
Sidon moved a palm over Link’s hair, tenderly tangling his fingers in it and tilting Link back so he could lick into his mouth. Anyone who’d met both of them knew that he was twice Link’s size, but even as his tongue filled Link’s mouth—the feeling almost as overwhelming as his kind voice—he was tender and patient. His sharp teeth only grazed over Link’s reddening lips, and his hands moved so slow and cautious that Link felt impatience build in him instead. He curled his fingers and dragged them over Sidon’s chest, and as his hands moved a deep rumble vibrated up from from it and into Sidon’s throat and against Link’s mouth. The hand about Link’s waist tightened, travelling down over Link’s breeches, and Link gasped again.
“Uhn,” Link grunted with the force of the heat underneath his skin. He was hard between his legs and wasn’t sure when it had started—so sudden and yet so long ago.
“Link, you are so beautiful,” Sidon admitted. The whisper made Link groan again with feeling, the something bubbling over in his chest and filling in the bottom of his belly. “You’re so wild but so soft—how are you so soft?” Sidon continued wonderingly, knuckling the skin against his collarbone.
Not soft, Link signed, but was again distracted when Sidon moved from his mouth to his neck where his fingers had been, and pulled him tight against his strong belly.
And then Sidon slowed, realizing.
Not soft, Link insisted, and bravely moved Sidon’s hand between their bodies to the front of his breeches.
Sidon’s eyes were only rings of yellow around black as he stared down at Link. He growled deep and pressed the heel of his hand against Link’s cock, making Link arch holding Sidon’s shoulder in a viselike grip. The pressure of another’s hand was strange and perfect, Link thought briefly, before Sidon’s lips came back to suck on a tendon in his neck over an old scar, and he didn’t think about much else for a little while.
Long, torturous, blissful moments passed as Sidon stroked him through his breeches, just as patient, but a little less gentle. Link liked it, liked it so much he knew he was wetting Sidon’s hand through the fabric as he leaked with eagerness.
Sidon, he wanted to call out. He settled on an ‘S,’ too clumsy for much else right now. And he weakly signed it over and over in front of his chest. Sidon nuzzled his kiss-bitten neck and looked down.
“What’s this?” Sidon murmured. “You need me?”
And I didn’t know it before today, Link thought. He nodded and found Sidon’s lips for one kiss before he signed again, S.
Sidon leaned back with a soft sweep of his hands over Link’s shoulders, revealing a faint pink-to-blue blush down between his legs. His teeth were bared and he glowed with those strange, dangerous markings across his crest, down his arms and legs, but between them he was plush and vulnerable. A barely noticeable slit, a swollen pinkness glistening with the shine of his arousal. Curious. Link watched Sidon’s face as he reached down and slipped the pads of his fingers down the slit.
The response was almost immediate, like he’d been holding himself back just barely this whole time. When Link knelt up on Sidon’s thighs to kiss him, he slid his fingers inside to massage the edges of his entrance. But, something hard-soft bumped his knuckles on either side, and then slowly pushed him out. Sidon’s cocks rose from between them, slipping against the back of his hand as they drooled with slick. They were blue with his blood at the tip, brighter than the color of his tongue, and faded only a little to purple at the base. Just like the rest of him, they were overwhelming in size, but Sidon did not grab him or become rough when Link wrapped his fists around them and squeezed.
“Link, oh…” He cried out softly, head tilting, and held Link to him. “That feels so... You’re amazing—oh!”
Link thumbed under the heads, explored the light ridges along each side and twisted languorously for several moments before Sidon’s fingers unlaced Link’s breeches and slipped them over his hips.
They kissed again, and again, and they touched one another until Link was fuzzy not with drink but with want. He didn’t know exactly what it was he wanted, but he wanted to be closer. He sucked on Sidon’s tongue and Sidon’s hand tightened around his cock. He let go with one hand and moved his fingernails over Sidon’s stomach like he had to his chest, and Sidon grunted, cocks bobbing. He dragged his teeth down Sidon’s neck, just as Sidon had done to his minutes ago, and his cocks blurted slick that dripped wetly over Link’s hand and wrist.
It made Link want to put his mouth all over him.
He grabbed Sidon’s chin and tilted him down for more kisses. But he was breathless and huffing out pained cries every time Sidon’s big hand moved over him. He was close, but he didn’t want to be—not yet!
Link shook his head rapidly after Sidon’s hand sped up a little, and Sidon let go to hold him at the waist.
“I want to put you in my bed,” Sidon said after a moment, after Links fingers clumsily dragged away from his cocks to rest on his hips. “Would you like that?”
Link sighed, and the second he began to nod, Yes, Sidon hoisted him up and carried him there, pressing him to the sheets and dragging his breeches off of him with his boots, then stripping him out of his silver-lined tunic. Link’s chest began to heave with excitement as Sidon watched him while removing his own ornate jewelry—the circlet and necklaces and arm bands and all he was adorned with—until he was bare like Link. His cocks were heavy between his thick legs, bobbing again when Link took himself in hand and stroked with the slick still shining over his wrist.
As Link’s eyes fell closed Sidon climbed overtop him and dipped his head to kiss again—again! “You’re bewitching,” he ground out, before he pushed him further up the bed and turned him, pressing against his back. “You’re beautiful.”
Link sighed and craned to bite at Sidon’s neck again, making him moan loud. In reply Sidon moved his hand over Link’s belly possessively and they writhed together for an overwhelmed moment kissing at whatever piece of skin they could reach. Link became antsy in seconds, feeling himself go warm and tight from the caught whispers Sidon pressed to his wrist and kissed into his shoulder and bit into his ear. He closed his fist tight around his own cock and wailed for Sidon.
S, he signed against the sheets, but Sidon knew. He lifted Link’s leg, terrifying him and soothing him from one breath to the next as he slid against Link’s hole with his cocks and instead rubbed them against his balls and cock, letting Link’s thighs close.
“Link,” Sidon moaned. “Exquisite. So good, beautiful—” He began to thrust between Link’s legs, and Link watched in awe as his cocks grew tighter and thicker as they leaked with his precome, slicking his way, as they slipped against Link until his own cock fit in between. Ecstatic, Link pressed one hand down his scarred stomach, rubbed Sidon’s cocks tight against him, and with his other hand he tangled his fingers with Sidon’s at his hip.
Sidon’s breath was hot in his ear, teeth teasing at the pointed tip, and more loving words spilled out of him like the wetness between their legs. And the more he said—the more he gasped and praised him—the more Link lost himself.
“Ah—ahnn!!" Link mewled as he let himself go hot again, go tight and arched as he pressed against Sidon.
“Let go, please Link. You’re so perfect, so strong—I cannot last,” Sidon cried. “Please, Link. For me, please! Come for me?”
Link’s breath caught for an endless moment as his cock jerked, as his hips twitched, as he spattered the bed and their bodies with come, and Sidon’s hips shook when he let out a final cry.
Even as he coiled tight and mindless, he felt Sidon quiver all over and his cocks go hard before his release. He held Link so tight around the hips that Link was sure he’d bruise, but it didn’t matter—Sidon’s voice broke as he finally came, messing them up completely as his cocks gushed with pearly-thin spend.
Link was a mess, but it all was a perfect mess, and he lay limp as Sidon’s body stilled after a final shudder.
Hands moved over him after what could have been another hundred years. Link blinked and turned his head muzzily to look around, and found Sidon’s tired eyes looking down at him with a sweet smile. He held a wet cloth in his hand and swept it warm and soft down Link’s thigh, then the other, before sweeping down his cock and in between his legs to clean him. It was miles better than being scrubbed by the Zoran spa attendants. It was as tender as Sidon was.
Link was arranged against a mountain of soft pillows at the head of the waterbed, which had been stripped and changed while he… slept? Link wasn’t sure—time was always funny even outside of special exceptions like these—so Link let the worry fall away as Sidon stroked his cheek with a finger and then disappeared from sight. Link closed his eyes.
Strong arms held him to a broad chest, scented with sea salt and soft cotton. Link curled and lifted his arms to sign, S, against his naked skin.
“Link, I’m here. And I’m so glad you’re here with me,” Sidon whispered again. Fingers tucked into Link’s mussed hair.
Link lifted his head and looked up into topaz eyes, touched Sidon’s lips. He felt like he did when paragliding, in that moment when the wind met his body and pressed at him, held him in the air and pushed everything from him as he drifted. Worry faded when he looked at Sidon, and he realized that this time he’d never need to land.