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Alba steps in close, closer than he had before, and finally manages to catch Ross off balance. Ross stumbles, just briefly, but it's enough. He attempts to save himself, striking out with a blow that is meant to knock Alba away, but it's parried safely past the boy's shoulder.
Ross knows in that moment that he's done.
Without hesitation, Alba drives forward with his own open hand, hitting Ross squarely in the chest. It's not quite enough to knock him down, but gravity has him stumbling dangerously and his balance tips far too much towards his heels. Next thing he knows, Alba's there and the two of them go tumbling to the ground.
His back hits the hard soil first, knocking the breath from his lungs. Alba lands on top of him, all elbows and knees. Ross tries to move, to twist to the side and knock the boy off of him, but his lungs are still seizing and Alba hold fast. A hand splays out across his chest, pressing him into the dirt and keeping him down. A flare of yellow light heralds the glowing ball of mana that spins into existence, and Ross' gaze swings warily to the fiery orb dancing in Alba's free hand. The boy's arm is poised as if to deliver the finishing blow.
Ross blinks back the spots in his vision, allowing his lips to quirk upwards as his head falls back. "You finally won," he says roughly, but with a small laugh.
And with that, their mock battle is concluded.
Alba stares down at him, breaths coming in short, quick gasps, clothes and hair disarray. He is practically buzzing with energy, and the condensed ball of mana lends a vibrant glow to his features. The position is held a moment longer, but then, between one breath and another, Alba relaxes and smiles the kindest, most brightest smile Ross has probably ever seen. "Y-yeah," he says breathlessly. "I did. I won." The orb of yellow fire dissipates into the air as his arm drops, the younger boy sitting back on Ross' thighs. He manages to look exhausted and excited all at the same time. "I finally beat you. God, I never thought... I can... I can finally-" His voice gets caught in the back of his throat, the boy staring down at Ross wordlessly.
Exhausted, Ross allows a smile to grace his lips. "You're strong now, Alba." And he is. Alba is strong. The months of studying, the days of practicing, fighting, training. Alba has become something powerful and dangerous. Ross figures that it won't be too long now before the boy truly surpasses him. This will likely be his first loss of many against him.
And funnily enough, that doesn't bother Ross nearly as much as it should have.
Alba grins unabashedly. "I'm strong now," he repeats softly, almost to himself. Ross makes to sit up, breaths starting to come easier and strength slowly returning, but he doesn't even make it to his elbows when a shadow abruptly blocks his way.
Alba is suddenly very, very close. Ross stills, then leans back some to regain his personal space. "Hey, watch it-" he tries, but the words are quickly smothered by something warm and unexpected.
Alba is kissing him.
It's over almost as quickly as it began, and Ross is feeling all sorts of disorientated. He's fallen back against the ground, eyes open wide and lips slightly parted, mouth tingling from the abrupt physical contact. His thoughts, which had frozen the moment Alba had lowered his lips to his own, fire up again in a complete mess. Alba is still leaning above him, one hand on the ground next to Ross' head, the other resting hesitantly on Ross's shoulder.
Ross feels like perhaps he should push the boy off.
He doesn't.
Alba smiles a small, somewhat nervous smile that does nothing to mask the determination in his eyes and just says simply, "thank you".
Ross doesn't know what exactly he feels at that moment, but the thought comes to mind that he kind of wants Alba to kiss him again.
It only takes a quick tug, his hand grasping the fraying fabric of Alba's shirt, and their lips meet again. It's a clumsy thing, and their mouths don't quite connect properly the first time around, but then Ross tilts his head just enough and Alba's lips slide over to cover Ross' own and it feels strange but it feels right.
They kiss longer, far longer, than the first time, hands a bit more curious, mouths a bit more needy. When they finally pull away, both breathless and flushed, their lips are swollen and their clothes are rumpled. Ross keeps his eyes on Alba, who grins bright, glowing like the sun.
Ross thinks that this is probably the warmest he's ever been.
He figures he could stand to feel like this more often.
"You're welcome," he says softly, voice edged with a slight roughness. Alba laughs, awkwardness and delight rolled up in the gentle, lilting sounds, and ducks down to press his red-tinted cheeks into the space of Ross' neck and shoulder.
They stay like that for a while, holding each other, laying on the dirt ground. It's comfortable, more comfortable than it ought to be, given that they're sweaty, tired, and covered in dirt. They mumble a few words back and forth, to each other. Ross doesn't quite remember what exactly was said, though he's pretty sure the word 'happy' was in there someone. He kind of feels like he's floating, despite the weight in his arms and the warmth in his chest. He can feel Alba laughing a little, so Ross figures he must have said something funny, perhaps a foolish insult at someone else's expense. It's nice, being like this.
They only untangle themselves when they hear the others approaching -- probably coming to check in the progress of their training. Alba sits up, cheeks red but eyes shining, and quickly presses his lips to Ross' own once more. The short kiss ends when Alba pulls away, face painted with a brilliant grin, and the younger boy crawls off Ross with an awkward kind of grace. He gives Ross a hand up, and they're both on their feet when the second demon lord and his wife appear.
They talk, the four of them. About the training, the progress, the preparations. Alba's hand slips into his part of the way through the conversation. It's either not noticed or not commented on, and Ross finds himself pleased with the way Alba's callused fingers entwine with his own.
They get asked, at some point, whether they think they are ready to go against the new enemies that threaten the peace of the two dimensions. Before, when this question has come up, Ross has always answered that they need more time, more preparation. Now, with Alba's confidence soaring through the roof, something seems to have clicked into place. He feels it just as assuredly as he feels Alba's hand in his own.
They're ready.
And it's Alba who smiles and tightens his grip on Ross' hand. He smiles, bright and full of life, and says, "yeah, we're ready." The words are steady and confident, and are born from something deeper than strength and skill.
And Ross, feeling lighter than he has years, thinks that he finally understands.