Work Text:
Maybe it's the way you say my name
Maybe it's the way you play your game
But it's so good, I've never known anybody like you
But it's so good, I've never dreamed of nobody like you
And I've heard of a love that comes once in a lifetime
And I'm pretty sure that you are that love of mine
~*~
Weeks had passed since the attack on the White Raven, since Hunt Athalar had shown up at his window and left with something that was either a joke or a promise. He still had to find out how the angel had meant his last words to him back then. But for that, they needed to be alone or at least out together. Something that wouldn't happen in the nearer future, as Hunt was on guardian duty for Bryce and Ruhn wouldn't want it any other way. He was glad the angel protected her, kept an eye on his sister, as they dove deeper into the mess that had unfolded. Three people were dead, the Horn still missing and the Summit came closer and closer. Time was running short for them.
With Bryce upstairs doing business for Jesiba and Hunt sitting on the roof, waiting for something to happen, his only companion in the quiet of the library was Lehaba. Excited the first time she had met him, the fire sprite had now gotten used to his presence and occupied herself with watching her shows instead of doing any work of value. Except for reheating his coffee every once in a while, when he thoughtlessly allowed it to get cold. By now his cup was empty, freeing her from this small duty she had put on herself.
The door to the library swung open, heavy steps descended the stairs, bringing the all too familiar scent with them. Ruhn caught Lehaba glancing at Hunt as he made his way to them, two cups of steaming coffee in his hands.
"What brings you down here?" Ruhn asked as the angel placed one cup on his desk.
"Your cousin ordered me down here, said me sitting on the roof scared her customers away."
"I am pretty sure she worded it differently."
"You don't want me to quote her." That he really didn't want. Bryce had a foul mouth, always had and always would have. Everything she said, everything she did to the point of how she dressed, was to make her unfit for her title as a princess. It was the same reason why he kept one side of his hair shaved, had his ear pierced and those colorful tattoos on his body. Not only because he liked it, but also to piss off their father, hide the marks he had left on him.
"Thought I might as well bring you coffee," Hunt said, his gaze lingering on the cup as if to avoid looking directly at Ruhn.
"Would be the fifth of the day," Lehaba chimed in from her doll-house couch. "It must run in their family. Their blood's basically coffee at this point." He couldn't quite argue with that. Not when he knew that both, he and his sister, were mostly fueled by caffeine to keep them going. Caffeine and spite.
"Shut it, Lehaba," he said instead, earning a wide grin from the sprite, who gave all her attention back to her show. "Thanks for the coffee." He looked up at Hunt, into those dark brown, almost black, eyes.
"That's as close as we'll get to the drink I promised you." A dry laugh escaped him, his heart pounding in his chest. He shot a look at Lehaba, but the sprite concentrated more on her show than their conversation. Or so it seemed.
"So, it was a promise?" He asked as he turned back to Hunt again, a grin on his face. Athalar leaned in closer, his gray wings blocking the view into the rest of the library, shielding them from Lehaba's eyes. Ruhn felt heat rising in his cheeks as Hunt's scent surrounded him, softly stroking over his skin. He remembered how long this scent had stayed with him the days after the explosion, remembered the feeling of his hands on his skin, how those wings had kept him from further harm.
"It was," Hunt answered, his voice low so Lehaba wouldn't be able to listen. He, too, was well aware of the sprite's nosy nature. The words echoed in his head, then his own which had led to the promise of a drink. His mouth went dry, every reply, every comment vanished from his mind.
"Well," he said after a moment of silence, "I guess I'll have to settle with coffee then. If you grab yourself a chair we could almost call it a date." This time his voice was barely more than a whisper, just loud enough for the angel to hear. A laugh escaped Hunt, sending chills down Ruhn's body, the sound vibrating in his chest. Hunt reached for a chair, pulling it closer to the desk, sitting down across from him. His heart was beating in his chest, hammering against his ribs, so loud he almost thought Hunt had to hear it too.
"It's a date then." Again Ruhn couldn't tell Hunt's intentions, nor his facial expression or his eyes giving his thoughts away. He just grabbed his coffee, took a sip and then looked at the book Ruhn was currently researching. It was written in the ancient language of Fae, full of old stories and myths from the time before and during the First War. He had hoped to find more information about the Horn, Pelias or the kristalos, but until now it had only been good for some light reading.
"Found anything interesting?" Hunt asked, looking from the book back to Ruhn, their eyes meeting in the dim light of the library. He shook his head in denial, not wanting to admit it all had been a dead end, like so many clues they had followed.
"I'll keep looking," he just answered, "but I start to believe our ancestors didn't leave us any clues behind. Maybe they hoped we'd never see the Horn being used or the demons to be summoned again." If he was right they had made a grave mistake, like many other generations before and after them.
"Maybe you should take a break," Hunt proposed, "it's getting late and you look like you're lacking sleep." If anyone had ever told him the Umbra Mortis would be concerned about his health twice within a month he would’ve called this person insane. But there he was again, sitting right across from him, sounding genuinely concerned about the dark circles under his eyes. "How's your shoulder, by the way."
"It has healed perfectly fine." The injury had stayed with him for two days until it had fully been healed, leaving only a small white scar on his skin. Another mark for his collection. "Thank you for protecting me back then… and for taking care of Bryce. I know she can be a pain in the ass most times…"
"That she is," Hunt agreed, then his phone buzzing cut him short. He took a sip of his coffee, unlocking his phone and letting out a deep sigh. "And bossy. She's got a job to do. I'll leave my coffee to you. We'll see you later." Right now he wanted to strangle Jesiba for ending their made up date like this, but he didn't say anything, as Hunt got up and left the basement again. Lehaba let out a sigh, carefully sitting down on the handle of his cup.
"You know, I really hate to see him leave," she told him, a sad tone in her voice, "but damn do I love to watch him go." For the first time in his life, he somehow had to agree with the sprite. Maybe he wouldn't have to if this uniform wasn't as fitting as it was.
He had stayed in the library until Bryce and Hunt had returned, so his sister could close the gallery and take a last look at everything. As if she wanted to make sure he didn't set anything on fire and had him close to scold him if he did. Ruhn didn't mind it much, the time he spent in the library was time he didn't have to spend close to his father and he at least felt like he contributed something to their investigation by following every story of the Horn.
Night had fallen over Crescent City when they started their way home, Ruhn accompanying his sister and the angel until they reached her apartment. It was on his way home, he had just said, ignoring how Bryce had rolled her eyes. She had told him to catch a cab, or call up one of his friends, visibly amusing Athalar who stayed quiet the whole way through.
He watched as both vanished inside the apartment complex Bryce called her home for two years now. Only as the lights in her apartment switched on, he continued his wax to his own home.
Lights illuminated the sidewalk, cars drove past him, tourists walked the streets, snapped photos of everything mildly interesting. He had lived in this city for so long now, that he really didn't understand all their excitement. When he crossed Central Avenue, his home only a few minutes away, the sound of wings drawing his attention to the sky. In front of the night sky, illuminated by moonlight and stars he saw a pair of gray wings. Hunt Athalar flew right above him, his strong figure almost invisible in the dark of the night.
The angel landed only a few steps away from him, people backed away, keeping their distance between themselves and Hunt. No one dared to stare at them, as he walked towards him, a small smile on his lips.
"Show off," he greeted Hunt, "shouldn't you be with Bryce?"
"She has her friend over," Hunt replied, "told me to get lost so they can have some privacy. Two legionnaires are watching them from a roof, so protection duty is still fulfilled." He couldn't argue with this logic, at least if the legionnaires took their job seriously and kept Bryce safe.
"So you planned to do exactly what now?" Hunt shrugged, fell in step beside him, as he continued walking.
"Honestly? I just wanted to watch the Sunball game, but your cousin canceled my plan, so there's nothing to do for me now."
"We can watch the game at my place, if you're rooting for the right team." He couldn't hide his grin, his amusement. Who would have guessed the angel was a sunball fan?
"Which team is the right one?" Athalar asked, one eyebrow arched, arms crossed in front of his chest. For a second his wings brushed against Ruhn's arm, a touch so light and soft he barely noticed, still for a heartbeat he almost froze.
"You'll figure it out," he answered, trying to hide the moment of hesitation. Hunt let out a low chuckle, a sound so unfamiliar coming from him.
They walked in silence, leaving the main road and the trouble of the city behind them. The noise faded, the quiet of the night finally settling in.
"Will your friends be home?" Hunt asked only a few blocks away from his home.
"No, Flynn has family business in FiRo to attend and Declan is out on a date." With whomever he was currently dating or about to date. He would tell them once it got serious. He unlocked the door, the house unusually quiet with all its residents gone. Normally he was not the one to just bring someone over, if it wasn't for a party. Being all alone with the angel in this house felt somehow intimate. Many people walked through this door all the time, filling rooms and hallways, but most of the time he was too drunk, too high to let this feeling creep in.
"You want a beer?" He asked, already on his way to the kitchen, to get a beer for both of them one. Hunt followed him, took a look at the pictures on the walls, the chandelier almost breaking from the ceiling.
"One should think you'd take better care of your home," he said, not looking away from the chandelier, "but taking in account how bad you are at taking care of yourself… This won't just fall down and crush us, will it?"
"Are you here to watch the game, or some fixer-upper show?" Ruhn handed him the bottle, giving him a sign to follow him into the living room, where he let himself fall onto the couch.
"Not even a fixer-upper could rescue this anymore."
"Careful, angel-boy, you're still talking about my home." He turned the TV on and searched for the game without waiting for Hunt's reply. The angel sat down next to him, casually launching in a corner as if it was not his first stay here. As if they always met up to watch games together. Feathers rustled as Hunt adjusted his wings to his position, primaries softly stroking his arm. the same touch as before. Something he had brushed off as an accident, a mere coincidence. Again he tried to brush it off, to concentrate just on the game and not the man next to him. The task was harder than expected but the beer helped. The bottle gave him something to hold onto, the TV gave him something else to stare at than the relaxed angel.
"So, princeling, do I cheer for the right team?" Hunt asked when the halftime break started, his voice teasing, his grin audible.
"Have you heard me complain?" Ruhn replied, a smile creeping onto his face. By now he had settled into the situation, his heart not frantically beating in his chest any longer as if it tried to escape whenever he stole a glance to his left. Unnoticed to him they had moved closer to each other, their legs touching, Hunt's warmth dripping through his jeans sinking into his skin. Normally being shy was not part of his nature, but right now the slight touch alone let heat rise to his face, an almost invisible blush creeping onto his cheeks. Okay, maybe he was not as relaxed as he had told himself.
The moment the commercials set in, Ruhn got up and made his way to the kitchen. A small effort to put some distance between himself and Hunt, as well as getting some more alcohol into his veins. Thanks to his friends and their parties they were not short on beer, any other sort of alcohol of low and high quality, or other substances. He heard Hunt's steps on the wooden floor, knew he followed him, still he was startled when he heard the angel's voice behind him.
"Are you running away from me?" He leaned in the doorframe, his eyes on Ruhn, a smile on his lips.
"Just wanted to make sure you're not dehydrating," he answered, taking two bottles of beer out of the fridge. Hunt walked over to him, his steps almost silent, as if he was just a ghost. He took the bottle right out of his hand, their fingers touching, warmth shooting through his body.
"How very considerate of you," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.
The commercials were over, he could hear the commentators talk about the first half of the game, remiscenting some missed chances and discussing the teams tactics. Hunt must've heard it too, still none of them moved. They just stayed there, eyes locked, as if someone had put a spell on them. Hunt reached out for him, brushing a strain of hair back behind his ear, his fingers lingering over his skin, the warmth of his hand on his cheek. He felt like he could barely breathe, Hunt's scent filling his lungs with every breath, his heart again beating in his chest as if it wanted to escape its prison. His mouth went dry as his eyes traced the curve of Hunt's lips. Lips he still felt on his shoulder if he thought about it only a second too long.
The game was about to start again, them still standing face to face, water running down their bottles. The crowd cheered, he heard Hunt's heart beat, his own too loud in his ears. A gentle touch on his cheek, warm skin against his own, Hunt's scent all around him like heavy perfume. Soft lips on his, nothing more than a ghostly touch. He leaned into this kiss, gentle at first, more demanding as they melted into each other. Bottles shoved on the countertop, hands in hair and on chests. Hearts beating against each other.
When they pulled away, Ruhn felt deaf to anything else except their breathing and heartbeats. He didn't hear the game anymore, not the rain that had set in, pounding against the window. For just a moment all he knew, all he saw, all he felt, was Hunt. Dark eyes, soft smile, his hands on his body, the warmth of his skin, his long hair between his fingers. Those lips, he kept staring at those lips, hoping for another kiss. Hoping to feel them once more. Hunt's hand vanished from his chest, slowly settling on the back of his neck, drawing him closer until their lips touched again. This time he returned the kiss without hesitation, without any second thought.
The sound of a phone ringing made them break apart, panting, out of breath. One heartbeat then another, they stood there before Hunt straightened his back and took his phone out. Ruhn watched him, listened closely to every word spoken. The message was clear, Juniper was about to leave the apartment, so Hunt needed to return. If only Bryce's friend had stayed a little longer, just a few more hours, just so long that they would've seen how far they could go. How comfortable they felt with each other.
"I'm sorry, I have to go," Hunt said after ending the call.
"I know…" Yet, knowing didn't make it any better. He wanted him to stay. Wanted to be kissed and to kiss in return. Again, Hunt placed his hand on his cheek, his thumb softly stroking over his skin.
"Next time, I'll buy you this drink."
"Then we better find the Horn and the killer soon," Ruhn replied, mouth dry, voice nervously shaking, "or I'll have to wait for too long." A chuckle left Hunt's throat, his lips sealing Ruhn's one last time. He followed him through the hallway, out into the rain, watched as the angel ascended into the sky. He stood there, letting the rain soak his hair and clothes, until Hunt's figure in the sky had vanished.
When his friends would come home tonight, he wouldn't say a thing. He would keep this to himself. He would let Flynn brag about his parents, would let Declan tell them about his date, if it had been good or awful and then just point to the TV if they asked about his own evening. Tomorrow he'd go back to work, try to find the Horn, mend his relationship with Bryce and hopefully not remember how his kisses felt, everytime he looked at Hunt.
~*~
'Cause I'm in a field of dandelions
Wishing on every one that you'll be mine, mine
And I see forever in your eyes
I feel okay when I see you smile, smile
Wishing on dandelions all of the time
Praying to God that one day you'll be mine
Wishing on dandelions all of the time, all of the time