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“I have no recollection of that,” Rufus said, his voice sounding stiffer than usual.
“Sure you don’t,” Orga teased, trying to get a rise out of the memory mage.
His laughter rang out, loud and jarring in the night air, in direct contrast to the soft sobbing that could be heard from different parts of the camp they shared with the Blue Pegasus guild. He must have realized it too because it died off suddenly, replaced by the quieter sounds of his guildmates chatting with other mages as they sat around a campfire.
Inside his tent, Rogue turned his head to the spot where Lector and Frosch had fallen into an exhausted sleep only minutes earlier, worried the noise might have woken them, but they remained blissfully asleep. He smiled at the sweet sight of the two Exceeds cuddled up together as they slept. It was something he’d become used to over the years, although tonight it didn’t bring him the same joy it usually did.
Not after everything that had happened that day.
He’d always taken great pride in the strength of their guild and had once believed it to be unrivaled. They made the heavens roar. They made the earth boil. They silenced the seas. That was Sabertooth.
But it hadn’t been enough.
Even with Blue Pegasus, another one of Fiore’s most powerful guilds, fighting by their side, they’d been no match for Bloodman and his army. Outnumbered from the start, they’d given everything they had to protect Northern Fiore… And had failed. As both guildmates and allies continued to fall, they’d been forced to retreat. To run away like dogs with their tails between their legs.
They’d gone up against only one of the Spriggan generals, and that had already been enough to devastate their forces. There were still eleven more of those monsters all around Ishgar. Even if they somehow defeated them all, there was still their leader to contend with, and that was none other than the legendary Zeref, the most feared dark mage of all time.
Rogue was certainly no stranger to combat. He’d spent most of his life fighting, but none of his previous battles had prepared him for the day’s horrors. His hands still felt sticky from blood he’d long washed off, and all he could do was hope the strategies they had cobbled together for tomorrow would somehow turn the tide in their favor.
Tomorrow.
Had the circumstances been different, he would have been excited about the promise of what a new day might bring. An adventure, the prospect of an ample reward, new memories to cherish. He would’ve joined his friends around that campfire, and they’d roast foods and tell stories. Orga would sing, despite their protests, and Sting would shut him up with a well-aimed snowball, inevitably starting an all-out snow fight. Rogue could picture the scene as clear as day, yearning to hear their laughter echoing through the woods.
But the only sounds in the air on this night were the quiet whimpers of loss and fear, the half-hearted laughter over shared memories and alcohol, and the passion of a couple getting lost in each other for what might be the last time.
A requiem of war’s despair.
He’d tried to distance himself from it, but the walls of the tent he shared with Sting and the Exceeds did nothing to shut it out. And being alone with his thoughts only caused them to spiral out of control, from tomorrows and the future, inevitably to that version of himself that had been willing to burn the world.
After the Dragon King Festival and Tartaros, Rogue had thought that they could survive anything that was thrown at them. As things had trickled back to normal and the shadow he’d spent years fighting remained dormant, the threat of that dismal future it had prophesied had receded more and more until he’d thought that, maybe, he had wrested free of it. But the day’s events had shown him just how naïve that hope had been. All the questions that he’d never found satisfactory answers to resurfaced, threatening to drown him in self doubt.
Your heart will soon be drenched in darkness.
Those were the words that dragon had said to him on his darkest night. He hadn’t wanted to pay them any heed, but tonight they felt eerily prophetic.
“As long as he’s with me…”
He remembered the weight of those words, the relief he’d felt at realizing that Sting had always been by his side. No matter how dire their situation, he remained the light to his darkness. The bond they shared so strong it could ease even his deepest fears.
Rogue’s blood ran cold as he wondered, could this be what drove him to madness? Would tomorrow’s battle… be Sting’s last?
The air suddenly felt too thick to breathe, and even the sounds around the camp slipped from his awareness, driven away by his pulse ringing in his ears. His gaze landed on the sleeping mat- Sting’s sleeping mat- right next to his own, as always. Empty.
No . Stop it! That’s not going to happen.
Rogue watched his shadow. For the first time in a long time, terrified it would come alive and gloat like it had before. But it remained as still as he did. A dark shape on the tarp that didn’t show a hint of the sinister face that had once stared back at him.
There was nothing in the shadows for him to fear. He knew that better than anyone else.
“What am I doing?” he whispered to himself, running his hands through his hair in frustration at how easily he’d lost faith. In himself, in Sting, in all of them, at a time when he absolutely could not afford to do so.
They would prevail, regardless of how bleak their future looked. They had to. For if they fell... the rest of Fiore would soon follow.
Rogue felt the urge to move, driven by the need to get ahead of the dark thoughts that threatened to consume him, or maybe he just needed to see Sting with his own eyes so he could relax. Either way, he had to get out of this tent. He took one last look at the sleeping Exceeds, tucking them under their blanket before grabbing his cape and making his way outside.
He offered his friends a nod and a small smile as he passed them, weaving through the camp on his way to the command tent where Sting was meeting with Master Bob. He had no trouble finding it among the many other tents, needing only his nose to rely on for direction.
Not too far from the tent’s entrance sat Blue Pegasus’ Jenny, bouncing her legs and hugging a black jacket around her shoulders. Rogue thought he might as well join her, as he could tell from the hushed voices coming from inside the tent that the meeting wasn’t over yet.
“Hey, do you mind if I sit here?” he nodded at the empty space on the large fallen tree trunk she was occupying.
She turned her head to look at him and crossed her arms. “I have a boyfriend. He’ll be out any minute.”
“Uhm...” Rogue stared at her blankly. “That’s great, but I wasn’t planning to sit on him.”
He waited to see if she would protest further, but she only shrugged and pointed at the spot furthest away from her.
“I thought you’d be going in.”
“I don’t need to. I can hear them just fine.”
Rogue sat down and promptly forgot all about her as he focused on what was going on inside the tent. Several voices discussed the latest intel received from their scouts and he instantly recognized Sting, as well as Master Bob and Hibiki.
“It looks like there’s been no further movement from Bloodman’s forces. Most of the other groups are at a stalemate as well, for now,” Hibiki concluded. “Lamia and Mermaid haven’t been able to get close to Hargeon yet, but Erza and her squad will join them tomorrow. Gajeel’s group is headed our way.”
“Let’s keep the scouts out longer, shall we?” Master Bob suggested. “ At this point, we need every scrap of information they can get for us. There’s got to be something we’ve missed.”
Sting sighed. “They’re all looking to me for answers. What am I supposed to tell them?”
The defeat in his voice filled Rogue with an overwhelming urge to barge into that tent and rattle him. Hug him tight and tell him how much Sabertooth needed him. How much he needed him. That it wasn’t his fault things had gone so badly.
But he did none of these things, just swallowed the lump in his throat and kept listening.
“We tell them as much of the truth as is helpful, and we shoulder the rest,” Bob said, sounding solemn. “I know it’s not easy, but that’s what we signed up to do. We need to give them as much hope as we can, so that we can all survive to face the next battle.”
“And things are looking up already. Help is on the way. I’ve known most of those kids since they were little. Not a single one of them is to be trifled with, and neither are we, for that matter.”
“Hey,” Jenny suddenly spoke up, calling for Rogue’s attention. “So, uhm… what are they saying?” She looked at him as if she wasn’t sure she even wanted him to answer, hopeful yet afraid of what he might tell her.
“Reinforcements are coming,” Rogue said, hoping he sounded as confident and reassuring as he wanted to. “Gajeel is on his way to back us up. I believe he’s got Mirajane with him as well as a few other strong Fairy Tail wizards.”
“Mira?” Jenny pouted at hearing the takeover mage’s name, but she perked up nonetheless. “Ugh, I guess at least she’s dependable.”
It amused Rogue to see her reaction, so similar to his own whenever it came to Gajeel.
“Well then, we’ll have to be as well. We can’t fall short now, can we?”
“I suppose not.” Jenny offered him a small smile. “You’re alright. I’m sorry about earlier. It’s just, you know, been a rough night.”
Rogue had been about to agree with her when he heard shuffling inside the tent.
“It’s getting late,” Bob said, “ Sting, don’t worry so much, you’re doing a fine job. Now, go give your guildmates that hope we talked about. And Hibiki, don’t you have someone waiting for you? You two shouldn’t be spending tonight with an old fart like me. We’ll reconvene in the morning to discuss any changes to our plans. Now, off you go.”
“Yes, Master. I’ll be on standby if you need me.”
As the three men wished each other a good night, the tent opened and Hibiki and Sting came out, each wearing a similar exhausted expression that they tried to hide behind a smile the moment they saw Rogue and Jenny. Not that Jenny seemed to care, as she immediately attached herself to Hibiki’s arm, nodding to Rogue as she dragged her boyfriend away.
But that minor slip from Sting spoke volumes to Rogue. They always knew when the other was nearby, their scents imprinted on the other after years of being almost inseparable. Sting must’ve really been out of it if he hadn’t smelled or even heard him.
“Hey…” Sting shoved his hands into his pockets and walked up to Rogue. “I guess you heard some of that, huh?”
“Yeah, reinforcements are coming,” Rogue said, pushing aside the many other things that threatened to spill out of him. They still needed to talk to the others, and it was best to keep focused on that for now.
“Let’s share the good news, hm?”
“Yeah.”
Sting’s smile was sincere this time, and Rogue felt his mood brighten just from seeing it. It made the walk back through the camp a bit more bearable.
“Damn, it’s freezing-” Sting rubbed his arms- “Of all the places, we just had to end up here. Couldn’t we have been tasked with defending Akane Beach or something?”
Rogue snorted as he took in the childish pout on Sting’s face, and the clothes he liked to wear which certainly looked good on him but weren’t exactly appropriate for the colder climate.
“Or maybe you should’ve just packed something warmer to wear,” he pointed out, taking off his cloak and handing it to Sting, who gratefully draped it over his shoulders.
And maybe Rogue was imagining things, but he was pretty sure he’d caught him inhaling his scent off it.
By the time they reached the campfire, most of the Blue Pegasus mages had left for their tents. Many of the Sabertooth mages had turned in as well, but Yukino, Orga, Rufus, and a few others remained. Minerva and Dobengal were still out scouting.
Rogue could see no vestige of Orga’s earlier good humor. Instead, he sat quietly, staring at the fire.
Sting watched them briefly, his brows furrowing in concern. Then he squared his shoulders and sat next to Yukino while Rogue took his place next to him.
“You’re probably wondering what’s going on, huh?”
The Sabertooth mages all nodded.
“Yeah, I don’t blame you. Today sucked hard. Those bastards took us by surprise, and we got our asses handed to us.”
Rogue bit his tongue, not wanting to interrupt Sting, even though he wasn’t entirely sure this was the best way to go about this conversation. He needn’t have worried though, for no sooner had he said those words than Sting’s entire demeanor changed, to where he exuded confidence, and Rogue could already see their friends reacting to it.
It was eerie, and a harsh reminder of just how much of Sting’s attitude during the Jiemma years had been an act. But despite that, he couldn’t help the burst of pride he felt at watching Sting put aside his own fears to reassure their guildmates.
“But all that’s about to change.” Sting paused, letting the anticipation build up in the air before continuing. “First off, we now know what we’re up against, and we won’t go down so easily again.”
The Sabertooth mages grunted in agreement, and Sting rewarded them with a smile.
“And second, we’ve just heard that reinforcements will arrive tomorrow. Gajeel, Lily, Mirajane, Elfman, Lisanna and Levy from Fairy Tail.” He counted each mage off on his fingers. “Each one strong in their own right, but paired up with us… Well, I don’t think I have to remind you how strong Sabertooth is.”
“Or do I?” He leaned forward and looked at them one by one.
Orga grinned and flexed his muscles. “Hah! Of course not!”
“I remember the destructive force of the Fairy Tail guild.” Rufus adjusted his hat and smiled. “Combined with ours and that of Blue Pegasus, it will surely be a fight people will talk about for years to come.”
“Yes!” Yukino agreed. “Mira is really kind, but she’s also an S-class wizard. And Elfman defeated Bacchus at the Games, so he’s very powerful as well.”
“I’m looking forward to fighting with Gajeel instead of against him,” Rogue added, thinking back to the times he’d faced him during the Grand Magic Games. “Those iron fists are no joke.”
“No, they’re not,” Sting chuckled, “and have you seen Lily fight? D’you think Lector and Frosch will be like that someday?”
“I wouldn’t bet on it.” Orga snickered at Sting’s responding pout and Rogue’s look of horror.
“Frosch is fine just the way they are!”
“Well, no matter, let’s move on to more important things.” Sting gazed at each of the mages, a hint of his mischievous smile peeking through as he asked, “Who brought the marshmallows?”
The ridiculous request put a smile on Yukino’s face even as she shook her head.
“Why didn’t I think of that? Those would be outstanding right about now,” Orga said, looking bummed.
“I hardly think anyone would have thought to bring something so frivolous.” Rufus huffed.
“Hey, memory dork, he was joking.”
“Who are you calling a memory dork?”
“And here I thought you remembered everything.”
Yukino turned to Sting and Rogue and rolled her eyes at them as Orga and Rufus continued to bicker, and the three of them shared a quiet laugh.
“I’m glad you joined us. Those two have been like this all night.”
“Just be thankful Orga didn’t sing,” Sting joshed, receiving an all too quick response of nods and hums of agreement.
“It could still happen,” Orga offered, pretending to look offended when all of his friends responded with a resounding “No!”
“Save it for tomorrow. It might be a great diversion tactic. Those fuckers will never see it coming, that’s for sure.” Sting let out a small chuckle, but quickly put his serious face back on. “And on that note, it’s time you turn in for the night. We can’t let Fairy Tail hog all the glory.”
There was some grumbling at his request, but they all knew Sting was right. Tomorrow would be hard enough as it was. Being overtired could only make matters worse.
“Aren’t you coming too?” Yukino asked, casting a worried look over her shoulder when she noticed he had yet to move.
“In a bit,” Sting assured her. “I’ll give you all a few minutes to get settled before I put out the fire. Can’t have you tripping all over each other in the dark.”
“I’ll stay too,” Rogue said, knowing that would put her at ease.
“Alright, good night.” Yukino looked back at them one last time before hurrying to her tent, and then it was just the two of them.
Sting watched her until she was out of sight. “You don’t have to stay,” he said, and he sounded convincing enough that had Rogue not known him as well as he did, it might have given him pause.
“That’s alright,” Rogue said, moving closer to the fire to chase off the chill. Despite wearing a long coat, he still felt the loss of his cloak, but he knew Sting needed it much more than he did. “I’m not ready to turn in yet, and if I went back to our tent, I’d just wake Lector and Frosch up.”
“How were they doing?”
“A little spooked, but they settled down quickly.” Rogue wished he could say the same.
“What about you? Are you doing okay?” Sting looked at him, frowning slightly when he noticed where Rogue was sitting. “Why didn’t you say you were cold?”
“I’m fine,” Rogue protested, but as he tried to wave him away, his trembling fingers belied his words.
Rolling his eyes, Sting unclasped the cloak to give it back. “Liar.”
“Well, let’s at least share it then. There’s no sense in you being cold.”
He’d thought that Sting might argue, but he only peered at him briefly before sliding closer and draping the cloak over both their shoulders. “Fair enough.”
They sat quietly, watching the flames dance in front of them for a while, and although it was nice to be this close to Sting, to be able to inhale his scent and feel the warmth he radiated, the silence made Rogue’s stomach churn. He couldn’t remember Sting being this quiet outside of when Minerva had held Lector hostage during the Grand Magic Games.
“Hey…” He nudged Sting’s shoulder with his own. “Master Bob was right, you know. You’re doing great.”
Rogue stared at him, even as he worried that his heart might jump up his throat and reduce the rest of his speech to wordless jabbering. He had to, both to show he was sincere and to see that his words had the impact he hoped they would have.
“You can’t take away all their fears, but you’ve given them something to hold on to. They needed that.”
“I needed that,” he admitted softly, wanting to get at least that much off his chest.
“You?” Sting’s eyebrow raised in mock surprise, “I didn’t think you’d be afraid of anything after the Dragon King Festival.”
If you only knew, thought Rogue, repressing the fears and mental images from earlier as he hid behind a smirk. “Oh yeah? What about you? I thought the only thing that could scare you was paperwork.”
Sting shuddered, “What do you think the chances are of Zeref’s army taking out the Council Headquarters again?”
“I’ll make sure to put in a good word for you.”
Sting stared back at him, unblinking, for what felt like minutes. Then, finally, the crease in his brows smoothed out, and he smiled as he nudged him back.
It was ridiculous how quickly that smile made everything in Rogue’s world just a little brighter. Almost too bright, as if he was staring directly into the sun. And yet, recalling the fear of never seeing it again, he couldn’t bring himself to look away, either.
“All joking aside, I’m glad I have you to share this burden with.” Sting took Rogue’s hand in his, squeezing his palm.
“We’re there for each other,” Rogue reminded him, squeezing back. “It’s what we do. What we’ve always done. It’s one of the reasons why we’re such a great team.”
“Yeah,” Sting glanced at him, looking away just as quickly again when their eyes met. “You’re right. We are.”
Rogue expected him to pull away soon after, but even as moments passed in enduring silence, their hands remained joined and resting on his thigh. He peered down at them, grateful for the way his hair cascaded in front of his face, hiding the blush he could feel burning his cheeks.
He tried to talk his heart out of the brutal assault it was making on his ribcage like he’d done so many times before, reminding it that Sting was just tactile by nature. That the years of close friendship between them had made him comfortable seeking physical contact.
But no amount of reasoning he was capable of had ever weakened the effect Sting had on him. He hated it, loved it, hated how much he loved it. How something as simple as sitting next to Sting, holding his hand, not even skin on skin but with the barrier of his glove between them, was enough to turn his entire world upside down.
And the truth was, he was tired of fighting his feelings. Sure, he was hoping, praying for a miracle tomorrow. But if it didn’t happen... if tonight was the last night they might get together, then he needed to know.
He didn’t want to spend the rest of his life wondering what might have been. Not that thinking that made getting the words out any easier.
“Have you ever thought that… we- you and I…” He struggled to get his raging nerves under control. His heart raced, and he could feel a sheen of sweat on his brow that had nothing to do with the fire or Sting’s proximity.
Sting turned his head to look at him, but his expression didn’t give Rogue any hint what he might be thinking. “Have I ever thought that me and you… what?”
Rogue swallowed down the rest of his uncertainty, stumbling on bravely. “That we could be something more?”
The words sounded so awkward to him now that they were out. Every muscle in his body tensed in anticipation of Sting’s response, but so far his confession had been met with nothing but stunned silence, making every second feel like an eternity.
Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything, after all.
“Never mind.” He shook his head, loosening his hold on Sting’s hand. “It’s not-”
“I have,” Sting blurted out, pulling Rogue’s hand back and tightening his grip on it. “I think about that a lot.”
“Y-you do?”
“Yeah, have been, for… longer than I’d like to admit, actually. It’s kind of embarrassing.”
Sting smiled, and many emotions ambushed Rogue at once. Surprise, relief and joy bubbled up in quick succession, and as much as he’d like to express them, the few words that came to mind were much better off staying there.
Then again, just sitting there with possibly the dumbest grin on his face was only marginally better. Not that Sting seemed to care, as he was doing the exact same thing.
But then he wasn’t. His eyes searched Rogue’s and his smile faded as he bit his bottom lip, and then he leaned in. Slowly, the remaining distance between them shrunk until there was barely any left.
Rogue closed his eyes in anticipation, felt the warm tickle of breath on his lips, and waited for what was sure to follow.
But there was nothing.
Or at least nothing he’d expected, because he really didn’t think Sting would pull away and get up, tugging on his hand in a silent request to follow. But then he heard it too, the sound of approaching voices and footsteps that let them know they were about to have company.
Seriously?!
Looking in the direction the sounds were coming from, he soon spotted a couple of Blue Pegasus mages coming their way. Rogue breathed a sigh of annoyance at the interruption. They’d been so close!
He let Sting pull him up and fix the cloak around the two of them.
“Oh, hey, you got here just in time!” Sting greeted the mages with the most awkward and guilty chuckle. “We were just about to put out the fire and turn in.”
“No need,” one of the mages said, crouching down by the flames and warming his hands. “We’ll take care of it after we’ve warmed up a bit.”
Either they hadn’t seen them- fat chance as they were around the only nearby light source- and had missed Sting’s obvious ‘got caught’ vibes, or they simply couldn't care any less. Rogue wasn’t about to ask. He just wanted to get out of there before his rapidly thinning patience ran out, and he was more than grateful that Sting seemed to be with him on that.
“Alright then, have a good night.” Sting waved, and Rogue managed to rise above his frustration and nod politely as they made their exit.
The distance between the fire and the tent felt a lot further than it had before, with the promise of to be continued unspoken yet almost palpable between them. Their hands reunited, fingers intertwining and thumbs brushing wordless affection. Rogue’s heartbeat sped up again, matching the rhythm of crunching snow underneath their boots as they walked faster, paces remaining in perfect sync.
They entered the tent, carefully making sure not to wake up the sleeping Exceeds as they took off the cloak and their snow coated boots. Sting summoned a small amount of magic to light up the space. Normally, Rogue would have teased him for turning himself into a human light bulb. But not now, not when he sat down on his sleeping mat, which was only inches away from Rogue’s, and started to take off clothes.
It wasn’t a deliberate display. Rogue recognized those from a mile away. And yet, knowing that everything he’d wanted had been right there all along, his for the taking if only he’d gathered the courage to ask for it sooner, he couldn’t look away. The illuminated, shivering skin was like an open invitation, and he took it.
If not now, then…
Sting had just tossed his vest and gloves to the side when Rogue straddled him, grabbing his shoulders and using the very last of his patience to offer some room for protest. Not that he expected any at this point, but a part of him was still grasping the fact that this was real and not just one of the many wild and creative scenarios his dreams would often conjure up. But then Sting’s hands cupped his face, pulling him even closer, and the last of Rogue’s doubts melted away as their lips finally met.
It wasn’t anything like in his fantasies, where they kissed with the confidence and experience of a seasoned couple, but that initially chaste press of lips and the awkward stumbling for a rhythm that followed felt like coming home. He wanted so much more of it, enough to die happy if that was what fate had decreed for him, or to fill his mind with memories of warmth on lonely nights if the worst were to happen.
But he didn’t want to think about that. Those thoughts had no place here, in this one perfect moment that was theirs for the making. They could live a thousand lifetimes in one night if they so chose-
“Rogue?”
Sting’s breathing sounded ragged, but there was no mistaking the concern in his gaze, and his hand moved to caress Rogue’s cheek.
“ What’s the matter?”
“I-”
It surprised Rogue to hear the quaver in his voice, even more to feel the wetness on his cheeks. When had he started crying?
“I’m sorry.” He hurried to wipe away the tears with the back of his hand, thoughts swimming with things he knew would only make things worse if he spoke them out loud. “I just wish we’d done this sooner,” was all he could think to say.
Sting sighed, moving closer until their foreheads touched. “Me too. But we’re doing it now. That’s all that matters, right?”
“Look-” he shifted his body back just far enough to peer into Rogue’s eyes. “It took us a while to get here. Was one hell of a ride too, but I wouldn't change it for the world. I don't know what the future has in store for us, but-”
He took Rogue’s hands in his, gently running his thumbs across the bruises and scrapes that littered his knuckles. A smile shone through the dimples on his cheeks, adding a sparkle to his eyes and infusing his voice as he spoke.
“I love you. With you by my side, I feel like anything is possible.”
Rogue had to press his eyes and lips shut to keep himself from laughing and spilling more tears at the same time. Those words- so similar in sentiment to the ones he’d told himself during the Dragon King Festival- lit him up from the inside and filled him with a hope that only Sting had ever been able to instill in him.
“I love you too,” Rogue said, unable to hold back a chuckle as he watched Sting’s smile grow impossibly wider in response. And all he wanted to do was to kiss him again.
That thought had barely had a chance to settle when it had already become a reality. As if he could read his mind, Sting pulled him closer, threading his fingers through his hair and claiming his lips. And Rogue kissed him back with equal fervor.
Sting’s scent was everywhere, sweet and heady with arousal, enticing him to touch, feel, taste. And he did so eagerly. His hands roamed, tracing the contours of the body he’d long desired, and relishing the way Sting seemed to quiver at his touch. It was only when they’d taken a moment to breathe that Rogue noticed the small cloud of vapor in the air as a result of Sting’s exhale.
He nudged him down, hands stuttering as he fumbled to take off his coat. His movements were uncoordinated, which was half eagerness to pick up where they’d left off and half hurry out of consideration for his idiot of a partner, who did nothing to hide that he’d rather freeze to death watching him undress than go ahead and get into his sleeping bag. Rogue would’ve scolded him for it. If only he didn’t feel himself heating up under his gaze.
Once he’d piled his coat and the belts from his pants onto his travel bag in one corner of the tent, they squeezed themselves into one of the sleeping bags together, clumsily colliding into another kiss. Sting pulled him close, sliding his hands under Rogue’s shirt to trace icy fingers down his spine. His lips abandoned Rogue’s, trailing kisses from the corner of his mouth to his collarbone.
But it was the unexpected sensation of sharp teeth scraping his skin that made Rogue forget where they were. He tilted his head back in invitation, wanting nothing more than for Sting to mark him as his. His hips rolled forward, creating unintentional but toe-curling friction that had him gasp for air, struggling to keep still at the whimper of his name.
He looked at Sting, curiously awaiting his reaction, only to find him doing the same. They cast a quick glance at Lector and Frosch to make sure they were still asleep, but the Exceeds hadn't so much as stirred. And in between the steady sounds of their snores, Sting's blown pupils and flushed cheeks, and the adrenaline rushing through his veins, Rogue couldn't stop himself from repeating the motion.
So he did. Again and again, pushing every reservation aside along with the last layers of obstructing fabric.
They had a battle to fight, perhaps the most grueling one of their lives. Millions of innocent people were counting on them, along with all the other mages of Ishgar, to push back the Alvarez forces. But that was tomorrow, and tomorrow would come sooner than Rogue would want it to, regardless of what it might bring. And they would face it together, holding on to that hope that anything was possible.
The past was done. He couldn't go back to all those opportunities they'd let pass without saying what had been in their hearts all along.
The future was uncertain, whether it was carved in stone or untamed and full of endless possibilities. But the present was theirs, called a gift for a reason, because they could shape it however they wanted.
And tonight, in these few precious hours they had left all to themselves, they would love and get lost in each other for as long as they could manage it.