Work Text:
“Out of all people, you are the least person I thought would have slipped into the sea.” Varka evenly says as he breezily pulls up the blue-haired ratnik back to his feet with one hand. A teasing smile is etched on the handsome face, but concern is still evident in his tone. “Or perhaps, ‘person’ isn't accurate.”
“Accidents do happen." Flins answers rather solemnly as he pulls his very wet, very bothersome hair to the back. “Also, I beg to differ. It is still accurate in a way, unless you have seen and interacted with others of my... kin, Grand Master.”
“I hear jealousy in your voice, Flins.” Varka muses as he flicks a dead, seaweed-like leaf from the other’s shoulder.
“Or perhaps, it is you who wishes me to be jealous.” Flins tilts his eyebrow with a tinge of amusement. “It is usually your forte, after all.”
Varka shrugs offhandedly. “With a jewel as fine as you, anyone would.” He continues as the blond male proceeds to take his outer coat off. “Setting that aside, you should take your clothes off, Flins. You’re going to get cold with those on.”
A teasing smirk pops on the blue-haired ratnik’s face. “Skipping the wine and dine and straight to the main course, Mister Varka? How shameless.”
“I have plenty of other ways to warm you up.” Varka responds in tandem to the half-intentional flirt. “However, I hardly believe you’d enjoy it being all wet and outside—” The blond suddenly halts, as his expression turns into a thoughtful pondering. “Or perhaps—”
“Unfortunately, this situation isn’t the wet and outside I’d like us to experiment in one day.” Flins rather dryly says as he begins to dismantle his drenched clothes, until he's only in his purplish base shirt and gray pants. Made with thick hide and materials meant to deter the cold, his outer clothes are incredibly heavy in his hands since they soaked up the seawater well.
Even when he’s busy taking off his numerous accessories and unfastening the belts, Flins can feel the interested gaze on his chest as soon as he discards his entire coat.
“Are my covered nipples so fascinating, Varka?” The ratnik teases. They’re naturally all perked up and stiff with the combination of his wet body and the cold sea air, and he supposes they do look rather… distracting. “Or maybe you’d like to see them bare?” He presses coyly as he looks up to see the other's face.
Flins blinks when he sees the redness on the tips of the taller male's ears. He expects Varka to respond to his flirty banter like before, perhaps taking it another notch with his provocation, but the Mondstatian has unexpectedly folded.
And the knight’s flustered reaction brings him even more amusement.
“You do.” He says as a twinkle of mischief gleams in his eyes. “Did you just imagine it, Varka?” The fae pushes further as he comes a step closer to the taller male. “Me, shivering and bare on your bed, writhing and seeking your warmth—”
“Oh, for the love of Barbatos.” Varka cuts the other off with a groan, before draping his own, very dry coat on the ratnik. “You’re surprisingly quite filthy-mouthed, Flins.” He remarks as he makes sure to cover the blue-haired male well, fully hiding those (un)fortunately covered, perky nubs in consequence.
“Hardly.” Flins breezily denies. “I’m merely guessing— and describing your very active imagination.”
“Unless you want me to walk with a boner, please stop baiting me.” Varka says as he takes and carries the other’s wet, heavy clothes in his hands.
“Honest, aren’t you?” Flins mirthfully says, but does cease his tease. It’s supposed to be a joke, but the blond’s reaction starts to keep him hot under the hood as well.
It's funny, in a way. He hasn't been interested in any carnal desire for what, thousands of years?
“I always do.”
Varka’s voice snaps the fae out of his musing and Flins can’t help but scoff softly at the other’s not-wrong-but-not-entirely-correct answer. “You know what, mayhaps I’m not as adverse to skipping the wine and dine tonight, Varka.”
“You don’t know what kind of beast you’re poking right now, Flins.” The Grand Master lets out a long sigh. “Considering the journey alone, you might be sick by the time we arrive at The Flagship.”
“I’m sturdier than I look.” Flins waves off the concern. “Instead of worrying about that, you should be more concerned if The Flagship has adequate soundproofing.” He muses. “Or shall we test it?” He adds with a small, innocent smile.
“Oh, Barbatos.”
The genuine exasperation generates a chuckle from the fae and Flins shakes his head. “Let’s move first. We can discuss more about this as we walk back to the city—”
Both of them halt when they hear a funny noise as soon as the ratnik takes a step forward.
Specifically, a squawking noise.
Flins and Varka’s eyes are immediately locked against each other in mutual surprise. Utterly bewildered, Flins cautiously takes another step, only for the same sound to echo around them.
Boisterous laugh immediately breaks and washes the somewhat suave, sexual-tension-filled atmosphere between them and Flins have a hard time suppressing an amused smile of his own, despite being the very subject of the ridiculous situation.
“That’s so funny.” Varka chuckles as he lets go of the last of his laugh. “Your boots are that soaked, huh?”
“It shouldn’t be.” Flins remarks in return as the leftover amusement fades into a morbid curiosity. He takes another step, and the squaking makes a grand repeat
The ratnik sighs resignedly.
“It does sound like it.” Varka smiles. “Come on, I reckon your boots won’t dry in one night, so it should align with our previous... interest.”
Flins raises his eyebrow. “Perhaps this is my presumption, but did you just imply that I'll still be on your bed even on the day after?”
Now, it’s Varka’s turn to put on a rather cheeky smile. “I rarely partake in such pleasurable activity, but when I do, my partner only leaves my side no less than two days after.” He proudly waves his hand. “With a glowing review too.”
“It seems that your appetite is as big as your stature.” Flins ponders thoughtfully.
“As the old saying goes. Men who eat well, do well.” Varka grins confidently.
Flins doesn’t bother to soften his scoff this time. “I’ve never heard such a thing in my long life.” He says, as he crosses his hands and pulls the oversized coat tighter around his lithe body.
The grin breaks from Varka’s handsome face as it’s replaced with the initial concern he had before. “It’s really too cold, isn't it? Want me to hold you so we can share some heat together?”
“While it’s a thoughtful gesture, that’s too excessive.” Flins firmly rejects. “Though in retrospect, perhaps it’s your fault that I slipped in the first place.”
“Shifting the blame to me, huh?” Varka sighs fondly. He takes the older male’s hand and grips it in his hold, before lifting their connected hands and leaving a soft kiss on it. “Fine, I’ll take responsibility of you as of this moment.” He declares as their gazes are locked with each other.
“Careful, Varka.” Flins replies with an impish, small smile, though undeniably liking the rather cheesy gesture. “That sounds like a proposal.”
“It can be one if you will for it.” Varka casually returns the challenges with a smile of his own as they start trudging back to the main path— along with the adorable squeaks of the ratnik’s boots.
“How preposterous. Is a Grand Master supposed to be this carefree?” Flins dryly but lightly says. “I believe your dearest Archon would be horrified if he knew you’ve just proposed to a fae as your partner.”
“Barbatos? Hardly. I reckon he’ll be very pleased to know that he’ll have another drinking buddy to go with.” Varka denies airily. “More importantly, the f-word with ae-ending isn’t a taboo word now?”
“It never is.” Flins shrugs, their joined hands lightly sway along their walk. “It’s just that both of us instinctively tried to avoid the elephant in the room.”
“Hmmm…” Varka hums thoughtfully. “It should be, now that I think about it. I want to be the only special one to know your secret, Flins.”
Upon sensing the look the other throws at him, Varka shrugs innocently. “I’m just trying to solidify my place as the first and only.”
“How greedy.” Flins remarks calmly.
“It still charms you, so I guess I can count it as a win.” The Grand Master replies.
“There is no competition in the first place, so a win is way too off-mark.”
“That’s what you thought.” Varka mutters under his breath. “If only you know…”
“If only I knew what, Varka?”
The blond only smiles diplomatically and somewhat, appeasingly. “I’ll answer your question once you agree to become mine.”
“That’s hardly a fair bargain.” Flins evenly points out. “Also, it is you who has no idea the kind of beast you’re poking, Varka.”
“Well,” Varka says as he pulls the fae closer to him, “Everything is fair in love and war, my dearest fae.”
“And I’ve always been ready to win it all.”