Kisses :3

by Caliburn67

Summary:

Just a few kiss drabbles based off tumblr asks! Here!

Chapter 1: Contents

2: MR-SN/VR-LA - Goodbye kiss (big angst)
3: Dani/Davion - Kiss to shut up
4: MR-SN/VR-LA - Kiss to shut up but soft
5: Davion/Hans - Kiss to the inner wrist
6: MR-SN/VR-LA - I got you kisses (mild angst)
7: Maxim/VR-LA - Let me hold you kisses
8: Cressida/Roy - I missed you kisses
9: Finbar/Elyse - Forehead kiss
10: Kyana/Dani - Life or death kiss (mild angst)
11: Maxim/VR-LA - Reassuring kisses
12: Maxim/VR-LA - Coming home kisses
13: Cressida/Roy - Kisses down the body
14: Kyana/Ione - We’ll get through this kiss (mild angst)
15: Kyana/Dani - Caressing cheeks while kissing
16: Ione/Cressida - Butterfly Kisses
17: Davion/Athos - Breathless Kisses

Chapter 2: Goodbye Kiss

Summary:

MR-SN/VR-LA
MR-SN’s death

If MR-SN had possessed the strength to gasp, he would have as VR-LA pressed his forehead to his. His metal was cold, humming with faint static. The captain clung to the sensation.

Forcing himself to move, mustering every last dreg of strength from his dying body, he raised his shaking hands. They settled on the sides of VR-LA’s face. He felt its sharp edges beneath his fingers, the scratches, the little dents, the cold he wished was a flustered heat. The wizard was radiant in the starlight, battle worn as he was. As best he could he pulled him down, increasing the pressure of the kiss. 

His final, and their first.

He closed his eyes, and pretended his ship was not ruined and burning, pretended his crew was not taken, pretended that the reason VR-LA was kissing him was not because this was the last time he could. If he blocked the memory of what happened he could almost imagine he was laying on the deck in VR-LA’s arms, cradled oh so tenderly, for no reason other than love.

MR-SN pretended not to feel the pain of the gaping wound his chest. Nor the twisted wrenching of betrayal and heartbreak that emanated from the same place. It soured the illusion far too much. But feeling all together was rapidly fading from his limbs. A tingling numbness, an incoming darkness, creeping up from his fingertips and spilling into the shattered remnants of his powercore.

The soft plip of VR-LA’s tears against his cheeks was the last thing he heard, the curl of his fingers around the back of his head and waist the last thing he felt. MR-SN could hold him no longer, and his hands fell from his wizard’s face.

He hoped VR-LA understood. That no words were need for him to know MR-SN loved him. His voice was gone, the words lost beyond either of their reaching.

From his chest death continued to spread. A gentle tide trickled up his spine, blanketed his brain, darkened his sight. He saw the two gold lights of VR-LA’s eyes, felt the near bruising press of him against his faceplate. So close, yet seemingly drifting further away by the second. But he knew it wasn’t VR-LA drifting.

It was not him sinking.

The shuddering tick of MR-SN’s mechanism came to an abrupt halt. A final silence.

Pleas fell upon unhearing ears, tears trailing down an unmoving face, a kiss lingering upon one who could return it no longer.

The astral sea sung, and a mechanite cried.

Chapter 3: Shut Up Kiss

Summary:

Dani/Davion

Dani stared at the ruby red tiefling before her, a half snarl half judgmental stare set on her face. Davion was waving his arms about, billowy sleeves flouncing as he gestured, mouth moving in senseless motions as he chattered. His stupid accent seemed to be the only sound in the otherwise quiet Sprite Spring. A smug grin was set upon his face, apparently having taken the genasi’s silence as surrender.

Dani did not surrender. She planned to make Davion well aware of this fact. She planned to win.

“So you see, Dani, given that our dear Nautloid is an organic creature I think you’d be quite incapable of assisting us with its ‘mechanics’. Really we are perfectly capable on our own, your insistence that we need a mechanic is reliant on the false notion that—“

Davion made a choked squeaking noise as Dani yanked the lapels of his cobalt coat, and kissed him with all the force she could muster. He did not run as hot as she did, but his infernal heritage left his skin pleasantly warm. She smirked into the kiss as she felt it begin to simmer. His lips were soft, almost gentle, and she would be having none of that. She shoved him back until his back collided with a table.

His hands flew out to steady himself, and another shocked yelp parted his lips. Dani kissed him harder, pressed closer. One hand tangled in his hair, her touch like fire licking his skin, and yanked.

Dani pulled back, and Davion’s devastatingly pleased groaned fell into the empty air between them.

He was panting hard, chest rising and falling, his already open shirt having been tugged out of place to show the faint scale like marks across his collarbones. Already red cheeks turned a deep maroon, blue eyes stark against their darkness. Dani refused to admit she was staring.

She spoke before he could say anything else stupid, her voice crackling, sparks falling from her tongue. “Oh thank fuck. If I had to hear you say anything else I might have strangled you instead. Now, two things, are you listening to me?”

Davion, who was definitely staring, nodded dumbly.

“Good. Point A, I bloody cracked the code for making spelljammers by looking at that thing. I’m probably one of the most experienced people in the fucking planescape when it comes to mindflayer tech. Do you know how much of it I’ve stolen, defused, and repurposed? Cause it’s a lot more than you. But most importantly, point B,” she stepped forward, until they were chest to chest, and Davion could feel her smoke and fire breath against his lips, “That’s Captain Dani to you. Understood?”

His eyes went wide, and she could feel the beat of his heart shaking his chest. She tugged gently at his coat, arching a brow as she waited for a reply, smirking as she felt him shake.

“Aye aye, Captain,” he managed, voice hoarse, and amusingly wanton.

Dani grinned, victory burning beneath her skin, and with all the abruptness with which she had instigated the action, turned and started walking away.

“Glad we got that cleared up. I need a drink after that.”

She didn’t bother the turn back and see what state she’d left Davion in. That was a him problem. Her problem was getting the annoyingly decent taste of him off her lips.

Chapter 4: Hush Now Kiss

Summary:

VR-LA/MR-SN

VR-LA squinted at his notes, pausing as he shuffled through them, eyes catching on a set of names he’d forgotten about. In the background, the poetic cadence of MR-SN’s voice bounced around in the small space of his cabin. His captain, ever the performer, had never seemed to grasp the concept of an inside voice. Not that the wizard minded. His stories were always welcome, always wonderful, even when VR-LA was too busy to devote his full attention as was deserved.

But, today, there was work to be done. Progress to be made. He scanned the names, a list of contacts, all who had the potential of hiding a breakthrough. A pleased spark shot through him, and he straightened.

“MR-SN, have a look at this,” he said, voice soft, faintly reverent when he spoke his captain’s name.

He waited for his tale to pause, to feel the familiar steady touch of a hand against his back as MR-SN leant over him to look at his work. It did not come, he was seemingly too engrossed to notice the interruption. Sighing, his tired exasperation still fond, VR-LA turned.

MR-SN half stood half sat on the edge of his desk, his plating awash in the dim Astral radiance streaming through the porthole. In the glimmering light he looked more vapour than metal, his cape like aurora lights draped upon his shoulders, eyes staring into space with an intentness that seemed to pierce past the blue horizon. VR-LA placed down his papers, and took a few steps toward him. They were tentative, as they always were when he enacted such a thing. Even though they had both confessed and settled into a relationship beyond scribe and captain, he still couldn’t quite believe it.

Finally, when he came close enough that their bodies touched, when the wizard settled one hand on his cheek and the other featherlight against his thigh, did MR-SN notice him. Before he could back out, VR-LA tipped his head till he felt and heard a faint clink. The melody of the Astral Sea, previously perfectly harmonised with his captain’s voice, took up its solo song once more. In the sudden quiet there was nothing but that sourceless choral harmony and the click click whir of two mechanical bodies. MR-SN pulled him closer, hands fitting so neatly into the divot beneath his chest plate, the splay of his fingers warm and firm against his back.

A small pleased hum slip from him as they settled against each other. Metal pressed to metal, conductivity letting the heat and electricity of each other blur until VR-LA wasn’t sure if the sparking across his plating was his or MR-SN’s. His eyes oscillated open, just enough to see his captain immediately before him, a steady and satisfied smile turning his eyes into golden half moons. The heat beneath his cheeks was definitely his own as MR-SN tugged his scarf to draw him impossibly closer.

“Did you need something darling? I’m sorry, the world got away from me,” he whispered, the vibration of his voice humming against VR-LA’s faceplate and chest.

It took him an embarrassingly long time to remember why he’d sought to interrupt MR-SN in the first place.

“Oh, I had, uh, some names I wanted you to look at. Some new headings potentially. If you approve of them.” VR-LA did his best to sound professional, and not like his captain was undertaking the process of tracing each golden swirl across his body with arduous slowness.

MR-SN nodded, though VR-LA could tell he hadn’t registered what had been said. Had he been able to focus more on his original intent he may have been exasperated, but words were becoming increasingly hard to form, and he was starting to go weak in MR-SN’s arms.

“Of course, of course… Whatever you think is best. Maybe take that up with AS-TR. Later however, I’m afraid to tell you that you will be quite busy for the next while.”

His soft smile was beginning to turn to a grin, and VR-LA conceded to the fact that he may have misjudged what method of distraction to use. Clearly this one was too effective. But as MR-SN pulled him forward for another kiss, whispering far too poetic words of praise, VR-LA decided that maybe he had made the right call.

Chapter 5: Hand kisses

Summary:

Davion/Hans
Took me a minute to figure out what the dynamic for these guys would be, I don't think I nailed it, but it is cute.

Davion stared out into the silent night of Lunia, a starscape darker but no less beautiful than the Astral overhead, and the calm oceans that surrounded Mount Celestia rushing against the cliffs below. If not for the lack of otherworldly song he could have mistaken it for Astral Sea. But this place had its own hum. Soundless, yet one could feel it vibrating within their soul. A high and holy pitch. The very air he breathed tasted like cool ambrosia, the brush of the breeze like a loving touch, the radiance that fell upon him and his lover painting them both in their best light. 

Davion had never been one for the heavens, he was born of their opposite after all, but he was starting to understand the appeal. 

Settled against his side, both of them curled up together on the window seat, was Hans. His skin was alabaster under the moon, a dusting of glimmering freckles across his cheeks like the stars above, hair dark and curled like the rippling waves bellow. There was no mistaking his nature. No chance that one could look at him and think him not Divine. The tiefling lanced their fingers together, soft smile on his face as Hans cracked open his eyes.

He made a small questioning noise, too tired to muster words. Taking his hand, Davion raised it to his lips. First he pressed a kiss to his knuckles, blue eyes flickering like stoked flames as dawn pink tinted his angel’s cheeks. With slow and fluid movements he turned his hand, pressed his lips to his palm, then down to the inside of his wrist. His skin was cool compared to the hellfire that warmed Davion, refreshing, he likened the sensation of kissing him to a sun shower. Beautiful and golden, cool and dazzlingly warm all at once.

He placed Hans’ hand on his chest, and leant deeper into his side. “It is nothing, or at least nothing worth disturbing you for, continue your rest.”

“Ah, okay…” His voice was shaky, but there was a determined glow to his eyes, “Good night then.”

Before Davion could respond Hans took his hand, dexterous red fingers laced between those of marble, and in a clumsy mimicry kissed his hand. A fire less hellish kindled in the tiefling’s chest. He leant in and laid his head upon a pale shoulder.

“Good night to you too, angel.”

The waves crashed below, and tentatively Hans looped his fingers through Davion’s dark hair. They settled into the simple but warm bedding of their nest, and rested.

Chapter 6: I've Got You

Summary:

MR-SN/VR-LA

VR-LA’s mind was spinning out of his control. He paced back and forth in his room, feet clanking and scuffing the wood, the fuzzy feeling of his limbs not assisting the coordination of his frantic movements. Pistons and pumps shunted in his chest. Steam seeped from between his joints, trapping him a cloyingly warm cloud. It was stupid really, he knew his panic was of his own creation, he knew that logically he should just pause and take a moment to calm.

But he couldn’t. Not when every time he stilled he felt fear creeping up on him, his worries clawing at the back of his thoughts. Their latest adventure had been… Bad. They’d made it out alive, but barely. Just barely. It had instilled in VR-LA a terrifying understanding of the dangers around them, of just how easy it was for any of them to be lost. He couldn’t shake the image of his fallen companions from his mind, even though he knew they rested in their rooms, safe and sound.

He was so distracted that he didn’t notice the knock at his door, nor hear it swing open. It took pivoting and stepping right into MR-SN’s chest for the wizard to notice his presence. A lance of electricity shot up his spine, his mind whiting out in panic, before a familiar voice broke through the haze.

VR-LA, VR-LA stop. It’s just me, MR-SN, it’s okay, I’ve got you.

He continued to telepathically whisper, the same words repeating at a steady pace, in their familiar cadence. VR-LA stilled, body so tense he shook, but let MR-SN pull him into his arms. A gentle touch guided his head to his captain’s shoulder, and he buried his face in the crook of his neck. He wasn’t sure how much time passed, but gradually he became aware of a hand rubbing his back. Then, a voice murmuring the same words he could hear in his mind. He was held firm, but not too tight, just enough that the weight around him could keep him steady.

His joints loosened, his strength fading in the come down, exhaustion washing over him. He wrapped his arms around MR-SN, and let himself be guided to the floor. Silence fell over them as his captain cradled him close.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He eventually asked, tone low and soft.

VR-LA made a negative noise, the sound muffled by MR-SN’s cape.

“That’s okay darling, I have you any how. Can you look at me?”

Fingers, cold against VR-LA’s feverish metal, slipped beneath his chin. He let his face be raised, hoping the dark lines beneath his eyes where oil tears had threatened to fall were not too evident. MR-SN smiled at the sight of him, the wizard’s gears hitching as he did.

“Well done.” He traced the angles of his face, before his hand settled at the back of his head. Almost so gently he couldn’t feel it, MR-SN pressed their foreheads together. “I’ve got you, everything will be okay, I promise. Captain’s honour.”

VR-LA closed his eyes, and clung tight to his cape, the fabric satisfyingly soft. He was sure the weight of his head leaning against him must have been starting to hurt MR-SN’s neck, but he was desperate for the cold touch, for its grounding pressure. The hand at the back of his head pulled him in tighter despite it, until VR-LA gasped against MR-SN’s faceplate. He melted more into his captain’s embrace, starting to feel less like an explosion waiting to happen and more like molten metal cooling in a crucible.

“I have you, never forget that, I’ll always be right here with you, and the crew. Okay?” His voice was firmer now, insistent in the way that refused to be ignored, refused not to be believed.

VR-LA took a moment to find his words. “I know. I believe you. I believe you… Thank you.”

“No need,” MR-SN sounded pleased, and his hold on his wizard loosened, “How about you come stay in my quarters? I feel we’d both appreciate the company.”

VR-LA’s gears stuttered at the suggestion, a different less panicked warmth sparking in his chest, but he nodded as he pulled away from the embrace, and managed a smile. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Chapter 7: Let Me Hold You

Summary:

Maxim/VR-LA

VR-LA sat on the arm of the Sanctum’s helm, Maxim seated in it beside him. The hard metal of his shoulder pressed into the wizard’s back, quite different from the firm but comfortable upholstery. Before them was the workshop's great window. A gold framed circle arcing above their heads, looking out onto the gear, glittering with the reflection of the endless sea beyond. Ripples surrounded the ship as it moved, its wake equal to its grand size. Even VR-LA usually felt a hint of agoraphobia when he looked to the horizon, but within the Sanctum’s warm and humming walls he found it did not come to him.

The silence between the mechanites was easy. They had spent plenty of their voyage in conversion, and while he enjoyed it greatly, these moments of quiet contentment were just as prized. They were proof that Maxim cared for him in ways beyond their professional ties. In ways they were just beginning to explore and expand upon. Ways he hadn’t felt since his late Captain.

VR-LA knew he was being watched. Every now and then he’d catch the flash of Maxim’s eyes as he glanced up at him, his lingering gaze sending sparks alight inside him. It made him flushed and impatient. He wanted something, was considering something. But what?

The answer came as a tentative arm snaked around his waist, gently urging him from the armrest. VR-LA met Maxim’s eyes, and found them firmly set. His fans whirred as he realised what was happening, that should his companion pull him any harder then the wizard would slip into his lap. He placed a hand on Maxim’s shoulder to steady himself. The angular metal hummed with Mechanus’s rhythm, the Weave imbued into the sorcerer’s soul shifting in its shine.

Maxim made no move to push him, merely raised his other hand to settle on the back of his neck. The metal there seemed to simmer, even more so under his touch.

“May I?” Maxim sounded steady. The weight of his hands against VR-LA certainly felt steady, but he could see the faint tremble of the Weave, the slightest bit of nerves making his magic waver.

He let himself be guided, until he was leaning over the sorcerer. “What if someone comes in?” 

Though he asked he couldn’t find it in himself to care. K-LB would tease, E-DN would roll her eyes, C-RA would coo and smile… Embarrassing? Perhaps. But worth it? Most certainly. But would Maxim, with his facade and uptight nature, think the same?

“Then let them. I cannot say that the idea of them or others knowing is… entirely unappealing…”

His gears hitched at the notion, but he nodded. “Okay then, if you are sure.”

“I am most certain,” he said, in the same moment he lowered VR-LA’s head enough to press their faceplate’s flush.

The wizard let out an undignified metallic squeak, the pressure of his hand on his neck sending lightning down his spine, heat blooming and blurring his thoughts at the point their faces met. Maxim hummed, pleased, then again even more so as VR-LA scrambled to hold him in order to stay upright. Not that falling and sprawling into his lap would have been a negative. But he wanted to linger here, at least for a time.

Linger they did. The Sanctum’s movement stalled, the quiet ripple of water fading into a musical silence. VR-LA knotted his hands in Maxim’s robes, tugging him upward, pulling him further in, smiling at the small surprised huff it elicited. Eventually, the arm around him tightened, and Maxim opened his eyes, catching VR-LA in their starlit white.

“May I hold you? Please, while we have the time.” Not even his blunt tone could hide the pleading wideness of his eyes.

VR-LA raised his brows. He would not refuse, but the curiosity to see how far Maxim would go to convince him buzzed insistently in the back of his mind. “Should you not focus on steering?”

“I can do both,” Maxim said firmly.

The wizard turned a genuinely doubtful eye on the sea, the flat water evident of their stillness. “... I don’t want to doubt your capabilities Maxim, but I have to point out that— Oh!”

He was guided down again, felt the brief tap on Maxim’s forehead to his cheek, and then the steady press against his own return. The sorcerer maintained eye contact, expression creasing.

“Then we shall remain here and drift. I would merely implore you to… let me have you, for what little time you are mine to have.”

VR-LA could find no reply, so instead he let himself slip from his perch. Maxim held him steady, their faceplates and bodies clinking as they resituated themselves. His knees pressed against the sorcerer's hips, the plates of their thighs scraping and catching, and he let his hands trail from Maxim's shoulders over his chest.

Once VR-LA had settled into his lap, and his companion’s demeanour had changed to one of satisfaction, he shook his head in soft amusement. Maxim squinted at him, not bothering to voice the evident question.

“You are a fool,” he answered, great fondness overshadowing any insult.

Maxim frowned deeper, more confused than anything. He spoke slowly. “How so?”

VR-LA took his face in both hands, and with a little more force than was needed crashed them together in a kiss.

Into it he whispered, “I am yours to have always. Try and remember it this time.”

Chapter 8: Missed You Kisses

Summary:

Cressida/Roy

Roy loitered around the front door to Hira’s demiplane, only half pretending to be working. He figured if Evren or Elyse where to show they’d take one look at him inspecting the unblemished mosaic tiles and know he wasn’t doing anything. But, for the first time in a long time, being caught slacking didn’t scare him. The air genie’s home was bright and ostentatious, but not in the blinding, terror inducing manner of the Efreeti. It was the nicest place Roy had and probably would ever live.

He tugged his coat, a blue that matched Evren’s livery, tighter around him. Nice as it may be, the place was cold. Though, he had a feeling that problem would soon be fixed. The front doors whooshed open, a breeze stirring through the halls, and Roy abruptly straightened. He recognised the soft pad of leather boots, nearly to quiet to catch.

Cressida. She was back.

He tried to not look like he was rushing to meet her, keeping his steps steady, posture relaxed. He hooked a hand into his pocket, and rolled back his shoulders. Still he faltered when he saw her step into the foyer. 

In the gleaming halls she looked to be made of dark amethyst, her white hair spun of silver, and a faint blue luminescence dancing across her when she moved. Her leathers were scuffed, clearly in need of repair, but it did nothing to sour the image of her. He made a note to offer to repair them later, as he stepped up beside her. 

“Hey Cress,” Roy slid an arm around her waist, the leathers rough against his skin, and rested his chin on her shoulder, “You were gone for longer than usual, nothing bad I hope?”

She twisted her neck to look back at him, brow raised in amusement. Despite the relaxed way she carried herself he could see the shadows beneath her eyes. He frowned, and tucked an errant strand of hair from her face.

Cressida shrugged, but turned in his arms, hands slipping under his coat to lay over his chest. “Nothing wrong, just… a lot of everything,” she sighed and tugged the collar of his shirt, “Let’s not talk about work right now though.”

He nodded, leaning down eagerly. “Yeah yeah, sure thing. You just want to rest then?”

“Rest is good… Rest, and this,” she whispered, then pressed her lips to his.

It was gentler than usual, slow, not particularly insistent. He pulled Cressida closer, hands flattening against her spine, heatwaves rippling over his skin. She hummed against his lips, before pulling back.

“I uh… missed y— This. Missed this…” A slight frown creased her face, and she glanced away, cheeks a dark indigo.

Roy huffed, and pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek. “Yeah, missed you to.”

Her eyes flicked back to him, faintly unsure when usually she had the steadiest stare he’d ever known. The genasi smiled at her, one he hoped could provide the steadiness she lacked. He didn’t quite know why she was so nervous, so hesitant, with their budding romance when she was so confident at everything else, but he didn’t want to pry. He just held her tight, and hoped she’d get the message that she didn’t need to be.

A few beats of silence passed, before she pulled him down, and kissed him firm. 

They broke apart for a moment, just long enough for her to whisper, “I missed you as well.”

Chapter 9: Forehead Kisses

Summary:

Finbar/Elyse

Elyse stared resolutely at the wall, her glare only breaking as she blew a bouncy curl out of her face. It was cosy in the Sprite Spring, quiet now they’d closed, the streets of Sigil dark beyond the stained glass windows. Behind her Fin waited, no doubt with his brows raised in exasperation.

“Now, come on sweet pea, whatever crazy thing Hira has planned can wait, you’ve gotta come home and rest. You got a kid on the way, they can wait, your wellbeing can’t,” he said, his drawl gentle.

Elyse shrugged, gesturing with annoyance as she spoke. “But it’s my job, Finbar. It's the best work I've ever done and I have to make sure it stays that way… The baby isn’t due for a few months yet, I’m fine.”

Finbar stepped up behind her, one large hand settling on her shoulder. She leant into the touch, head thudding against the middle of her husband’s chest. Glare now skyward, she met his eyes. Honey gold, with a dark bovine pupil cutting horizontally across. The scars over his brow were wrinkled by his smile, and she couldn’t help how her expression softened at the sight of him.

“Every work you do is your best work. And if Hira thinks that isn’t the case cause you needed a break, then he and I will be having words.” He leant down, large fingers carding through her hair, and placed a soft kiss to her forehead. She closed her eyes, and let the rumble of his voice wash through her. “Come on, we can go home, I’ll cook you up something real nice, and I’ll do all the dishes too. You can put your feet up.”

“I don’t have time to put my feet up!” Despite the words her tone lacked its usual tense conviction.

“Then I’ll make you that time.” 

He kissed her again, before resting his forehead against hers. It was heavy and warm, his skin roughed by the scars of adventuring. But once calloused hands were now softer as they passed through her hair. She sighed, and let Finbar take her weight.

“Alright… But I’m not cleaning the house tomorrow, I’ll be busy making up for tonight.”

“Of course.”

“And you can do the laundry.”

“Sure thing.”

Silence fell, and she reached a hand up to lace their fingers together. “And, you can carry me home.”

She heard the smile in Finbar’s voice. “Whatever you need honeybee.”

Chapter 10: Life or Death Kiss

Summary:

Dani/Kyana

Dani’s blood felt like molten metal where it spilled, thick and luminescent, through Kyana’s fingers. No amount of pressure she applied seemed to keep it in. Nothing she did was helping. Nothing she did was saving her. She pressed down harder, Dani hissing in pain, blood and sparks spluttering from her lips. Yanking off her shawl, Kyana tied the starry fabric as tight as she could over the wound in her captain’s side.

“I’m going to run you to the ship, just, hold on for me until we get there,” she said with a shaky voice, and gently as she could, hoisted Dani into her arms.

The genasi’s head fell limp against her shoulder, a low groan muffled against her skin. She didn’t speak, but neither did her breaths fade. Taking solace in that, Kyana began to run. The rocky ground of Gehenna smouldered beneath her feet, the heat making her sweat, ash and volcanic vapour thick in the air. She started coughing, but didn’t slow. She couldn’t. The ship wasn’t far, it had been moored in the air above the endless slopes of cooled magma. Kyana just had to reach it in time.

She barely noticed Dani tugging on her collar, so focused on powering through her own pain. At one particularly insistent yank, she slowed, and met her captain’s eyes. Their gold flickered like dying embers, the dark tattoos beneath them sunken and grey. Rather than cobalt, her skin was an ashen blue, dulled from within. Kyana’s hold on her tightened, but Dani didn’t seem to notice. She just frowned, and pulled herself up until her breath brushed pleasantly warm against her jaw.

“Stop, Kyana. Just a second.”

Confused, she paused, heart racing and muscles burning. “Dani, we don’t have time, we have to—”

“I’ll be fine,” her voice was even more crackly than usual, gruff and faintly broken, “... Kiss me.”

It sounded more like an order than a request, and Kyana cocked her head in confusion. “You— What?”

“I told you to ki— Oh why do I bother, I’ll do it myself.”

Before Kyana could question further, cooling fingers tightened in her shirt, and with what little strength she had left Dani surged upward. Her lips were rough and wet with blood when they crashed into hers, burning faintly against her skin, pressing hard enough to bruise. Kyana stumbled, her surprised yelp lost against Dani’s lips. When her captain pulled back her eyes looked brighter, a faint glow colouring her face, something Kyana might have called a blush had she ever known Dani to blush.

“Good… You can go now.”

Kyana was frozen, gold skin smeared with indigo blood, eyes wide and cheeks flushed from more than exertion.

“Kyana!” Dani tugged at her shirt again, snapping her out of her shock.

The weight of the genasi in her arms returned, as did the ache and roar of the volcanic landscape. She shook her head to clear it, and pushed aside what had just happened. That could be dealt with later, when Dani was healed. When she lived. Because she would live, and there was nothing that Kyana wouldn’t do to make it happen.

Chapter 11: Reassuring Kisses

Summary:

Maxim/VR-LA
Plus bonus drone, drone also gets a little head bonk poor guy

VR-LA hovered behind Maxim as he worked, careful not to bump him as he soldered metal and magic back together. On the workbench sat the little drone wasp he’d been gifted now over a year ago. One of its wings was crumpled and torn off, arcane sparks sputtering from the joint, its little legs twitching in distress. Maxim’s brow was lowered in tense focus as he made the repairs. The wizard tried not to think about how endearing the expression was, nor how mesmerising the deft and delicate movements of his hands were. 

Now was not the time to be admiring. They were in a crisis for Mystra’s sake.

His hands settled on the sorcerer's shoulders, gentle enough not to bump, but hoping to convey some sense of support. Maxim’s eyes flickered as he glanced over. He cocked his head, pausing in his repairs to get a better look at VR-LA’s tight expression.

“Is something wrong? I promise this will be a quick fix, you need not panic,” he said, concern seeping into his otherwise calm tone.

VR-LA looked between him and the little bug, now in far better condition but still twitching dejectedly on the table. “Of course something is wrong! He needs you, Maxim, a lot more than I do.”

With a light shove he tried to prompt him to work, but Maxim continued to stare at him. His eyes rounded to a more gentle shape.

“My dear…” There was a note of amusement in his voice, he seemed to want to say more, but trailed off with a shake of his head. “Very well, I shall make haste on the repairs, but you do not need to hover. I will look after him.” 

“Are you sure? I can hang around just incas— Oh!”

Maxim sighed, and the next moment he was being pulled forward, his face cradled between the sorcerer's hands. Holding him there, thumbs gently pressing to his temples, forehead cool against his own, the sorcerer whispered against his face.

“Your worry is quite endearing, but I have built many of these little creatures. I will take care of this one.”

VR-LA watched him through half open eyes, his face hazy and golden so close. He sighed, and Maxim briefly took his weight as he deflated.

“You promise?”

“Upon the Clockwork Nirvana, you have my word.” His voice echoed with a heavy harmony, and VR-LA could help but chuckle at his serious tone.

As he pulled away, Maxim’s hands sliding from his face, he gave his own overly solemn nod. “Okay. I’ll leave you to your work, but call if you need! And tell me as soon as you’re done.”

“Of course, my dear.” 

Maxim shook his head as VR-LA left, the wizard glancing back a few times, even going as far as to wave goodbye to the little bug. He turned to stare at the insect, a bemused tilt to his eyes.

“Well, aren’t you causing a fuss?” It buzzed in reply, before turning in a small morose circle. “Hm, not to worry, I am nearly finished, little drone.”

Its one working wing fluttered, head angled in the direction VR-LA had left. One a whim, he picked it up, raising it so he may look it in the eye. As gently as he could, he booped its tiny head against his brow. Its legs skittered against his palm, tickling slightly, and he scoffed at himself. Maxim returned to his work. The smile threatening to brighten his face as the insect seemed to settle went unacknowledged to himself.

Though VR-LA, from where he’d hung by the workshop's entryway, couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. He leaned against the door frame, watching his partner work, face warm, and systems a little more steady than before.

Chapter 12: Coming Home Kiss

Summary:

Maxim/VR-LA

From the bronze stairs leading to his demiplane, Maxim watched many different metals flash in the light below. The trio of K-LB, C-RA and E-DN crowded around a central figure. One of silver, grabbed in blue and stars. VR-LA laughed amongst his kin, C-RA’s arm massive where it rested around his shoulders, E-DN gently shoving him as he teased her about her latest visit to AS-TR, K-LB regaling him with a story no doubt embarrassing if Maxim were to hear it. The sounds of their voices whirring, chiming and rumbling, the clinking of their bodies, the clatter of their footsteps, echoed upward. The reverberation was almost loud enough that, if he closed his eyes, he could pretend to be amongst them. 

Not that he wanted to be. No doubt such an intrusion would be awkward for all involved. He was content to watch, and wait, until the conversion lulled and the group began to break apart. He began his descent when he saw the signs.

K-LB glanced up at the sound of his feet ringing purposefully against the stairs, and gently nudged C-RA. E-DN was already making her way out, and soon the mechanic followed, his imposing companion ducking through the doorframe after him. Silence fell, swift and soft, as the pair found themselves alone. VR-LA waited in the centre of the foyer, bright and shimmering, like pearl and sapphire brilliantly set amongst the monotonous bronze of his home. Maxim paused on the final step. Something warm and fluttering lurked beneath his chest plate, only spurred as the wizard made his way toward him.

The clink of his footsteps stirred up a feeling he only experienced when returning to Mechanus. One which steadied the ticking of his gears and loosened his joints. One that felt suspiciously like coming home. Which made no sense, considering he never left it.

It only grew stronger as VR-LA’s hands settled against his arms, the spark of his magic setting Maxim’s plating alight. Thumbs gently brushed the seams of his plates, the wizard’s head craning up more than usual, eyes shining bright in the starry shadow cast by his hat. 

Bemused, VR-LA asked, “Are you going to come down or will I need to stand on my toes to reach you?”

“‘I…” The fluttering in his chest turned to sparks, rapidly catching his circuits until the faint fire that warmed his metal began to dance within. He straightened, trying to keep a cool head at least. “You are the Champion of Magic herself, are you not? I’m sure you could float to meet me.”

VR-LA stared at him, expression flat, eyes still warm. In the same tone he continued, “Maxim. Do you want me to kiss you or not?”

Any hopes of stopping the fire rapidly burned away as VR-LA’s hands tightened around his arms, and he was gently tugged. He wasn’t pulled off the step, but he swayed far more than he’d usually allow. The wizard’s hands drifted up his arms to his shoulders, and he did his best to repress a shiver as his palms smoothed over his angular pauldrons. Maxim took hold of his wrists, gently stopping his touch from travelling down his chest and likely rendering him unresponsive.

“The answer is always the same,” he said, far more confidently than he felt, and stepped down to met him

“Glad to hear it.” VR-LA moved forward, chest pressing shockingly cold against his own, turning the flame to a low simmer, steadier if no less consuming. “And I’m glad to be back… I’ve missed you.”

Maxim pushed the wizard’s hat out of the way as they both leant in, eyes falling closed with gentle clinks. The press of cool metal against his face stilled his stuttering gears. With an abruptness which nearly made his knees give out, every tense and sparking feeling within him settled. His hands fell from VR-LA’s wrists, arms looping around him to draw them flush. Soft fabric and smooth silver melded into the contours of his own form. Maxim was molten, perhaps even malleable, in a way that while increasingly familiar felt so different from his past brittle sculpt. VR-LA settled into him, finger’s splayed over his shoulders, steam teasing his jaw, a pleased note evident in the click of his gears. 

After some unknown amount of time, they parted. Only enough to look each other in the eye, bodies still locked in an embrace like perfectly calibrated cogwheels. Maxim spoke, his usually strong voice a rough whisper.

“And I have missed you.” He paused to tangle his fingers in the familiar softness of VR-LA’s scarf, before letting his forehead fall against his wizard’s one more. Almost more to himself, he continued, “Welcome home.”

Notes:

quite happy with the vibe of this one ngl

Chapter 13: Body Kisses

Summary:

Cressida/Roy
Fade to black in this one

Roy’s hair kindled as Cressida wound the dreadlocks around her fingers. He hummed at the slow touches, the noise sending vibrations down her spine. She was sprawled on her stomach, body sinking into the many blankets of the fire genasi’s bed, glad to be relaxing in something other than a hammock. Like licks of painless fire, Roy’s breath fanned across her neck, the touch of his lips like embers burning up on her skin. Bordering her vision the red and gold glow of his hair fell in curtains of magma. She lost herself in the slow wax and wane of its light.

His hands smoothed over her sides, leaving molten heat in their wake, idle now he’d done the work of undoing the many straps of her armour. It had been carefully set aside elsewhere, and while she’d usually fuss about its upkeep, she found the worry slipping her mind. 

Roy teased the tip of one pointed ear with a few faint kisses, chuckling as their twitch flicked his nose. Rather than speaking Cressida grumbled disapprovingly into the pillow, and gently nudged him with her foot. In return his lips returned to her neck. A chaste kiss brushed her skin, now a deep burgundy in the genasi’s warm light. He rested his forehead in the hollow between her shoulders, sighing as his hands, rough from his work, settled on her waist.

“Sorry, sorry.” He sounded more amused than genuinely apologetic, but the timbre of his voice against her was enough of a consolation. “Do you want more, or would you rather sleep? I’m happy with either.”

The vague affirmative noise she made mustn't have been understood, so she settled for another light kick, receiving a baffled laugh.

“Okay? That’s… a yes, I assume that’s yes. Okay, I got you.”

She didn't need to say anything more. He gave her a gentle squeeze, lithe muscles firm under his fingers. His lips returned, first following the curve on her shoulders, lingering over old scrapes and scars, then slowly ebbing down her back. Each vertebrae received a kiss, until her spine was alight with sparks. Like a lava flow, gradual and heated, he blanketed each curve with kisses, smoothed every edge with strong hands, until all points of tension began to melt away. His teeth teased a scar that arced above her hips. Touch tentative, his hands settled over her thighs, thumbs rubbing small blazing circles into her skin.

“Too much?” he asked.

Though he couldn’t see it, Cressida smiled softly. She stirred, stretching out the fading ache of her muscles, her smile turning to a grin at the telltale flustered crackle of Roy’s fire.

Raising her head only enough to be heard clearly, she called quietly back to him. “Perfect, though I’ll certainly settle for more. If you have it in you, that is.”

“I— Yeah! Yeah I can do that. If you want me to do that.”

He sounded endearingly choked, and though she was quite comfortable where she was, Cressida did bemoan not seeing his likely smouldering cheeks. Rather than speak she laid back down, giving an idle flick of her hand. Little drops of fire fell against her back, the embers like stars in the night sky of her skin. With a wave of the genasi’s hand the lanterns snuffed. The room descended into a dark blaze, firelight licking at the shadows, Cressida’s content sigh the loudest sound in its quiet crackle.

Chapter 14: We'll Get Through This Kisses

Summary:

Kyana/Ione

Below in the knotted streets, the great coagulated arteries of their Planescape, Sigil’s denizens went about their business. Even high up on the Hall of Speakers, Kyana could still hear the noise, still hear the shouts and cries and laughs. But, at the very least, it was still. The faintest breeze brushed its icy fingers over her skin, cooling the mindflayer ichor that adorned her in garish indigo and crimson. Her chest was tight, every muscle tense, her body and mind prepared and desperate to strike.

But she had no target. She had no one to fight, no one to lash out at, no revenge and justice to take. Kyana could only imagine what it would have felt like to kill the Elder Brain. Will feel like, some part of her assured. Had, in the long past lives her own yet not, and will once more.

Beside her, silent and dark, her hair rippling like coiled shadows on the wind, sat Ione. Her presence was weightless, but undeniable. True if seemingly intangible. Much like Kyana’s rage. Her friend waited, a grim expression on her face as they looked out over the city. Minutes passed, unnoticeable, seemingly irrelevant, though Kyana knew every second spent here was one that should have been spent fighting. But, as her anger cooled, as her passion faded to disappointment, a new emotion stirred in her chest. A twinge, sharp and sickening.

Guilt.

She tightened her hands into fists, nails biting into skin. 

Kyana started as warmth covered her. Strong fingers smoothed out her own, taking away the grounding sting. She looked up, and met steady eyes. Midnight green, the same green she remembered seeing rimmed in silver and swathed in shadow the first time she ever left the Cenobium. Like fragments of an astral aurora, lighter streaks wound through her irises. Fresh colours. Freedom colours. Ione shuffled closer, expression twitching with nerves, but body warm and solid when it pressed against Kyana’s side.

She nearly startled again at the sensation, so convinced that Ione was nothing more than a friendly shadow, not expecting her shrouded silhouette to feel so… Cosy. Without stopping to think, she fell into it. Cold skin was enveloped in soft black fabric, those warm hands tentatively sliding across her back and settling over her spine. Abruptly the tension left her, and she swayed on the roof edge, until Ione tightened her hold. With a dull thud they both fell back against the tiles. They were fainty slick with the morning's rain, but neither cared. Ione pushed aside the golden curls that covered Kyana’s eyes, tucking them behind her ear with shaking hands.

Neither of them spoke. Kyana had said all she’d had to say, and now her throat was too choked to speak, Ione clearly at a loss as well. Her breath fanned warm against the monk’s freckled face. Slowly, carefully, eyes wide and brows lowered, as though she were afraid of her own actions, Ione placed a hand on Kyana’s cheek. Her palms were wrapped in fabric, but her fingertips were less calloused than they’d once been, the body pressed against her  still strong but now less bulky. She tilted her face into the touch, unable to look at Ione. Not for any shame or embarrassment, just tiredness. Kyana’s lips brushed the fabric over her wrist.

Ione’s breathing may have faltered, but the monk barely noticed, as a warm, careful kiss was pressed into her hair. It reminded her of how Finbar would give each crew member a comforting peck on the head if they were panicked. But the way Ione held her, so carefully, perhaps even fearfully, was nothing like that. Kyana snagged her hands in the fabric sash around her friend's waist, eyes fluttering close. Another kiss, this one against her temple, was placed firm and almost desperately, like Ione was hoping whatever she meant by it would seep through her skin and into Kyana’s mind.

She didn’t have the energy or care to question it, only acknowledge it was good. That it gave her something warm and solid and real to lay her roiling emotion on. Kyana leant forward, and blindly laid her lips against the first bit of skin she felt.

Ione’s cheek was warm, the corner of her mouth gentle against Kyana’s own, her gasp mixing with the monk’s sigh.

They both stilled softly, one stunned, the other calmed. Kyana’s mouth still lingered on the heat of Ione’s skin. In her friend’s arms she softened. For the first time since the wedding party, she relaxed. Into warmth, and embrace, and an unspoken promise.

Chapter 15: Caressing Cheeks

Summary:

Kyana/Dani

The hammock in Kyana’s room gently rocked with the motions of the ship, and the bodies within. Starlight shone in through the porthole, but Dani could only see it in a fuzzy golden haze as it passed through the veils of gold hair around her face. The canvas was rough against her back, Kyana heavy and soft above her. Her lips pressed to the genasi’s were much the same, moving slowly and gently, catching the little sighs and grumbles Dani refused to admit she was making. She reached up, tangling her fingers in gold hair.

Gentle, but firm, she tugged Kyana close, calloused fingers rough against her scalp, broken nails snagging in her fly aways. The monk sighed, her small noise falling into Dani’s lips. She smirked into the kiss, pleased by the small victory in their noncompetition. It was short lived, as Kyana took it as an invitation to press closer, her chest and the outline of her muscles firm against the captain’s skin. The flames of her hair licked at both their cheeks, giving an eerie blue cast to the space between them. Dani gasped, breath sending a smattering of harmless sparks across Kyana’s face. The monk pulled back in surprise, eyes opening, like bright binary stars.

Silence fell, their panting breaths mingling, the genasi staring at the dawn pink and constellation of freckles across Kyana’s cheeks. The monk’s shoulder’s began to shake, her hands squeezing Dani’s waist, and then she burst into soft laughter. Dani raised a brow, which was about the only movement she could will herself to do as he lay captivated by the sight. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Kyana huffed in between laughs.

Sounding like a cross between a dying engine and overactive campfire, Dani managed to choke out, “Whaddya laughing at?”

Kyana stifled the sounds, and if it weren’t for the way her lips immediately pressed warm and gentle to her temple the genasi may have been disappointed. Pulling away, looking down at her, the monk gave a smile. Seeing it felt like sunshine in Dani’s chest, like stepping out of cold shadows into a radiant blaze. Or something mushy like that. It was nice, was the point.

“Well, it’s just…” Kyana stared at her with soft eyes, “You’re purple.”

Dani took a second to register the words, then squinted at her, tugging at the dark tattoos beneath her eyes. “The fuck do you mean I’m purple? I haven’t even done anything to the engi— Oh if this is some prank by Roy—”

“No, not like that Captain.” Kyana cupped her face, palms steady against her jaw, finger’s gentle where they stroked her cheeks. “I mean you’re blushing purple.”

The genasi, who’d been mid way through trying to sit up before Kyana stopped her, froze. Now that she thought about it, her face did feel hot. More so than usual. The monk caressed her cheekbone with a thumb, leaving a fiery trail, like a shooting star, in its wake. Swallowing, Dani looked anywhere but her face.

“Ah… Well, you’re pink,” she said, jabbing a finger into Kyana’s chest, as though pointing it out would calm the flustered sparks no doubt turning her more purple.

Kyana nodded. “Yes I am. You’re very… warm.”

“Not hot?” Dani smirked, trying to win back some of her dignity.

Seemingly unbothered, the monk simply nodded again, moving close enough that her lips dragged against her captain’s skin, that they rested featherlight against her own when she stilled. Dani’s breathing came heavier.

“That too,” Kyana said, then kissed her again, hard enough that her sharp teeth bit into Dani’s lips. Not enough to draw blood but enough to make her bite back in return,

Kyana laughed into her mouth, muffled and sweet, her kisses turning more slow, hands gentle as she petted Dani’s indigo cheeks. After some time they parted again, but still close enough that they could feel each other’s breaths and whispers. Between pecking at Dani’s cheeks, while she half heartedly tried to squirm away, Kyana mumbled to her.

“I like the purple, it’s pretty. You look like if the Astral Sea was a person… if the Astral sea was also on fire.”

Dani scoffed, but felt molten bubbles well up in her chest. “Yeah, yeah… thanks. I like the pink, it’s not really a colour I ever saw until I left Brass. It’s nice on you.”

It was a battle to get the words past the lump in her throat, but it was worth it for her smile. Worth it for the way she continued to kiss her. Worth it for the content sighs against her collarbone as they fell asleep beside each other. Worth it, always.

Chapter 16: Butterfly Kisses

Summary:

Cressida/Ione
Ngl I had to google what butterfly kisses where, learned smth new tho. Got a bit distracted poking Ione's brain than focusing on the kiss oops...

The roar of Acheron was muffled through the Nautiloid’s fleshy walls, yet always inescapable. Ione sat in a dim room, knees pulled to her chest, a faint red glow spilling in through the strange glass-like window. She rarely left sight of the doors and windows, not if she could help it. The tunnels and rounded edges of the ship reminded her far too much of the Cenobium. Sometimes she thought she was there, that was being watched, that some fleshy creature or dead eyed puppet would jump out from the shadows. She gritted her teeth, and pushed the thought aside.

This was her ship. Her home. Not her prison. Fear was foolish.

For no other reason than chasing away the memories of silent watching caverns, she appreciated the sounds of battle. The strange crashing and crumpling cubes cast fragmented shadows on the walls. But despite the noise, she still listened, ever alert. Her eyes flicked back and forth, ready to catch any movement that wasn’t the occasional undulations of the Nautiloid.

A faint pad pad pad of soft footsteps met her ears. She tilted her head, straining her senses. Not Athos, he was rarely quiet and when he was even she couldn’t catch his soft pawed tread. Not Davion, the heels of his boots clacked on the floors. So it was Cressida. Ione straightened, pushing her hair from her face in an effort to make herself presentable to the captain.

The drow made no move to hide her entrance, stepping into the doorway, giving a closed lip smile as Ione nodded at her. “Ah, there you are. Hadn’t seen you in a bit, wanted to make sure you were, you know, okay and all that.”

Cressida waited for an answer, arms crossed in a manner Ione was pretty sure was just casual, and not annoyed. 

She nodded, and softly replied, “Yeah, just uh, watching outside. Nasty place but still not the worst.”

Her captain squinted at her. “Hm. You seem kind of down Flower, or at least like you’ve been… Dissociating. Sit down.”

Glancing away, she tried to hide the flicker of admission across her face. That and the faint flush at the endearment. Her captain huffed, walking closer and gesturing at the floor. Ione complied, leaning back against the wall and letting her body slide down in, Cressida joined her, her leather armour creaking as she settled.

“So, what’s wrong? Is the plane taking it out of you? I can understand if so, there’s no shame in admitting it,” the drow asked, shoulder pressing steady and firm against her own.

Leaning into it, Ione shrugged, vacantly staring at the window. “No… I mean I don’t love it, but, I also don’t care. Just can’t stop, remembering, I guess. This ship is home but, the last ship that was home was… Well, you know.”

Cressida winced, awkwardly settling an arm over her shoulders. Her bracers dug into her back, but the pressure was grounding. Ione slumped into it, her captain’s hair tickling her cheeks.

“Ah. I see.” Cressida paused, brows lowered as she considered. “Though I’ve had many ‘homes’, I’ve never had a home. Not one that felt like it. But I think I could have one here, maybe. I can’t change where you came from, what memories it comes with, and neither can you. But I can promise that, we can make this home, we can make this different. I don’t want to be living back in the Underdark any more than you do Flower… Maybe we can make some adjustments to this ship. More lights, some decoration? I don’t know much about that sort of thing but Davion has been bemoaning how sparse and eerie it is. Maybe it’s about time we listen.”

Despite herself, Ione huffed in amusement. “Oh believe me, I noticed.”

“A nuisance, maybe… But a good one, I’ll give it to him.” Her captain tucked a few coiled strands of hair from Ione’s face, and shifted to look her in the eye. “But the point is, I’m here to make sure everyone on this ship is okay, and that includes you. A captain takes care of the crew, and all that. I’ve got you… Okay?”

Ione was quiet for a while, but found Cressida’s hand, and gave it a gentle squeeze in lieu of talking. Her thank you seemed to be understood as Cressida smiled. Her captain moved closer. Skin cold but breath warm against Ione’s cheeks, the drow leaned her forehead into her temple. Ione tensed, not uncomfortable but feeling a flush bloom across her cheeks. An ebon hand tilted her face into the touch, the faintest brush of lips hot against her jaw. Her captain fluttered her eyes, white eyelashes tickling her cheek.

Ione couldn’t repress a small giggle. With a gentle peak to the teased spot, Cressida pulled back.

“Come on, the others are waiting on the bridge. How about we get out of this place?”

Ione nodded, taking the offered hand to help her stand. Speaking felt a tad beyond her, face still warm and throat a little closed up, but the drow just took her hand and guided her out. Though they walked in the dark, too familiar walls closing around them, Ione’s shoulders relaxed. Perhaps the Nautiloid may be difficult to call home but, maybe home didn’t have to be a place. Cressida squeezed her hand, thin elven fingers surprisingly strong. Ione returned the action, smiling in the dark.

Chapter 17: Breathless Kisses

Summary:

Davion/Athos
Gore warning

Beneath Davion’s feet the nautiloid roiled, lurching dangerously to one side as the death grip of the opposing ship pulled them down. The very air burned his skin, smoke choking his lungs, sparks and the blinding light of the Plane of Fire obscuring his vision. His infernal heritage was the only thing saving him from heatstroke, and in the endless primordial blaze his skin glowed a bloody sunset red. He flicked dark hair from his face, taking a moment to steady himself. 

His blade was wet with the violet viscera of his aberrant enemies, the deck littered with their twisted forms. Yet still, more creatures made of grey matter and flesh spewed from their attackers ship. Beside him Athos hefted his greatsword, fur splattered with lurid colours and the ends of his hair catching like candle wicks. 

“Well fought devilkin, it seems our death will be glorious indeed,” he growed, his remaining eye flashing predator like in the light.

Speaking as best he could through his hard breaths, Davion replied, “I’d prefer no death over a glorious one, but I suppose in this circumstance that is acceptable.”

He flicked the blood from his blade, Adroit, its edge cast in the same violent glow of the plane. Beside him Athos let out a bellowing laugh, flaming mane shaking. The leonin rested the point of his sword on the deck, and as the dark smudges of their distant enemies drew more defined, beckoned him closer.

“Come, let us make good of what minutes we have left!” Athos bared his fangs, clawed hands stained with viscera.

The tiefling nimbly hopped over the bodies, boots splashing as he went. His companion’s arm settled around his shoulders, heavy and strong. Despite how much smaller he was he did his best to give it an equally firm squeeze.

“To our victory my friend,” he hissed, lips curling in a smile. Athos echoed the sentiment, pulling him close.

Davion had not, in any of his meandering thoughts, anticipated what came next.

He was hoisted from the ground, weightless for a second until Athos braced him against his body. Hands snagging in bloodied yet soft fur, Davion clung to him for support. Both of them were still panting, breaths almost cold compared to the burning air. There was a moment where the tiefling looked his companion in the eye, stared into the thin pupil as it widened, like a dark star set in a rageful forest fire. Then he could see little at all, as a soft paw settled on the back of his head and pushed him in.

Athos was neither neat nor gentle with his kiss. The flat of his fangs slid over his skin, the pressure almost bruising, whiskers and fur tickling Davion’s cheeks. He was gasping when they pulled away from each other, cheeks a deep moron and lips shining. His earlier attempts to control his breathing were for naught, as his throat was swiftly choked with all manner of feelings.

He was set down gently, the leonin seemingly oblivious to his companion’s plight. “Prepare yourself, our foe approaches. Let us fight to our doom and their’s!”

Davion shook his head, the tension through his whole body the only thing keeping Adroit in his grasp. He gulped, and nodded. At least their deaths would be of the heroic and romantically tragic sort, he supposed, as he turned to face the oncoming horde.

Both their blades blazed in the light, lungs riddled with smoke and each other's breath, as they braced for the final battle.