Chapter Text
Before dawn, the savannah lay in perfect stillness. The sky slowly took on a low-saturated wash of dark violet. Every now and then a small rodent would dart past, its faint rustling swallowed at once by the tall oat grass, while only the long blades swayed softly in the breeze.
The black lion was asleep.
So Simba slowed his steps and slipped closer, studying Kovu’s face with quiet care: his brows knotted into a hard little crease, the muscles at his mouth twitching, and—if one listened closely—a thread of murmured dreams.
Another nightmare for sure.
Simba brushed his tongue lightly along Kovu’s cheek.
Kovu woke at once, green eyes flaring open like sparks struck from flint.
When he saw who it was, that dark gleam softened immediately—
“Oh… it’s you.”
Kovu rolled onto his side and lifted a foreleg. Simba moved into it without a word, tucking himself against his chest, chin resting on Kovu’s shoulder. In the dim morning light, every colour blurred; their thick manes overlapped and mingled, black and crimson bleeding together until they were nearly indistinguishable.
Kovu felt wonderfully at ease.
The weight against him was just right.
So was the warmth around him.
If he closed his eyes for seconds, he would fall asleep again.
But the other lion had no such intention.
Simba wriggled and shifted, then leaned over to catch Kovu’s ear between his teeth.
“Well, that’s a bit cold, don’t you think?”
One emerald eye cracked open.
“I didn’t expect you back so soon.”
“Are you complaining that I woke you up?”
“Mmh… no.” Kovu smacked his lips and sighed. “But seeing as we only just took down a hippo last night…” He broke off in a huge yawn. “…could you maybe behave yourself?”
Simba released his ear.
“All right.”
Said that easily—clearly a trap.
Sure enough, a few minutes later Kovu opened his eyes again–resigned. That wicked creature was nipping at his chest and belly, the tip of a tail flicking restlessly against his legs.
“Now…what exactly are you doing?”
“Nothing.” Simba propped his chin on one paw and gave him a sidelong look, amber eyes glinting. “By all means, go back to sleep, if you’re that tired.”
Kovu gave a silent, helpless laugh. At this point, short of being knocked out by a buffalo, sleep was a lost cause.
“Simba, Simba…does it have to be now?”
“Surely His Majesty will be quite busy after sunrise.” The golden lion climbed over him, bracing himself above, lowering his face until their noses nearly touched.
“Unless…”
His breath brushed Kovu’s.
“You don’t want me at all?”
“Cut the crap.”
Kovu half-closed his eyes and drew him down, letting Simba bury his head in the warm hollow of his neck. Their scents folded together, thick and close. Through skin and fur he felt Simba’s heartbeat, steady at first, then growing louder, stronger. He loved watching Simba like this—those beautiful amber eyes lit with molten gold, framed by fire-red mane, bright and warm against his face.
A soft, damp kiss brushed his cheek, sliding slowly across his scar.
It was time.
Kovu shifted sharply, rolling them over in one smooth motion.
Now he had a perfect view of that face—the flicker of surprise between fine brows, blooming at once into a radiant smile.
“I thought you weren’t in the mood?”
“I thought I’d told you to cut the crap?”
Simba obediently tipped up his chin, letting Kovu nip wherever he pleased.
“There–don’t push yourself.”
Kovu’s breath was hot against his ear.
“Hush now…”
Simba lay in the thick bed of dry grass, his head hovering in that hazy space between dream and consciousness. A broad shadow loomed above him, blotting out the harsh daylight. He might have slipped under again at any moment—if not for someone prodding here, nibbling there…
“Kovu…”
He lifted a paw weakly to the other’s face. Kovu gave the soft pad of his palm a playful nip, then pressed the paw back down again.
“What—is that all you’ve got?”
That sounded strangely familiar. Simba opened his eyes, caught between a laugh and a scowl. Kovu’s smug look wasn’t helping.
He started kicking at Kovu’s belly with his hind legs.
“Get off, will you? I’m tired.”
Instead, Kovu simply sprawled over him, burying his nose in Simba’s mane and taking a deep, noisy breath.
“Hey—” Simba wriggled, then gave up. “…Do you have any idea how heavy you are?”
Kovu didn’t answer. He just kept breathing in Simba’s scent, loud and intent.
Simba frowned. “Kovu… what’s wrong?”
After a long moment, Kovu climbed off him, his expression stiff, the black tuft of his tail brushing lightly across Simba’s belly.
“Gotta go.”
“Duty call, huh?” Simba closed his eyes and waited a few seconds. When no footsteps followed, he added, “You’ve got something else to say, don’t you? I don’t have the energy for riddles right now.”
He heard Kovu snort softly. “You’ve got your own ‘mission’, don’t you? And you still have time to lieu around here?”
Simba rolled upright too fast, the world spinning for a moment before his eyes.
“What is your problem?” he snapped, shaking his head so hard that dust and bits of straw flew from his red mane. “Do you have any idea how far I ran to get back here?”
Kovu kept his eyes down, muttering under his breath—something that sounded suspiciously like then don’t bother coming back.
Simba’s brows shot up. Without another word, he whiled around and stormed off.
Kovu stayed where he was, staring at the dirt, his claws carving a few sulky lines into the ground.
He hadn’t even had time to think before familiar footsteps came back.
He looked up to find Simba’s puffed-up, sulking face right in front of him.
“You forgot something!”
Those amber eyes were full of accusation, wide and bright, and they undid him at once.
With a sigh, Kovu leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to the corner of Simba’s mouth.
“There. Now I’m leaving.”
The whole thing was stupidly endearing. Kovu couldn’t tell whether Simba was being deliberately childish to spite him, or whether he’d simply got his lions crossed. Either way, Kovu hurriedly grabbed his paw and pulled the stiff-necked, sulking lion back into his arms.
“I hardly ever get to see you. Let’s not fight, all right?”
Simba lifted his face and kept glaring at him with those huge eyes.
“You stole my line. What am I supposed to say now?”
Kovu tightened his hold at once, afraid he might bolt again.
“All right, all right… my fault.” He bent close to Simba’s ear as he spoke. Simba, clearly still sulking, bit down on his shoulder. Something must have caught on his tongue, because Kovu heard him make a small, irritated ptui-ptui sound as he spat into the grass.
“How long are you staying this time?”
The lion in his arms muttered that it depended on how well he behaved. Kovu gave a quiet, humourless smile to the empty air. He ought to treasure the time they still had—say something nice, make Simba smile while he still could.
But the truth was, the lion in his arms would leave again. Simba always did, chasing after the kin he had lost. And that waiting, that not knowing, was eating away at what little patience Kovu had left, turning it into a constant, low ache of irritation and unease.
Perhaps it would be easier not to see Simba at all—better than counting every second until the next goodbye.
Simba lifted his head against Kovu’s chest.
“You don’t want me to go, do you?”
Of course he didn’t.
But Kovu squeezed his eyes shut, forcing the selfish feeling back down.
“Just… do what you need to do.”
The weight in his voice made Simba’s hear stutter.
“I’ll come back.”
Kovu nodded. “Take care of yourself, all right?”
His gaze fell to Simba’s golden forepaw, where a faint new scratch showed through the fur.
“I said I will come back, Kovu.”
The young face drew close, bright amber eyes locking onto his.
“Say you heard me.”
A helpless smile stirred in those emerald eyes, softening into warm, rippling green.
“I heard you.”
Neither of them spoke after that. They simply leaned into one another, listening to each other’s steady breathing as time crawled slowly over their skin.
Simba watched Kovu’s dark mane lift and fall with his every breath, and he found himself returning to the question from before—
“What were you smelling on me just now, anyway?”
Kovu looked away, a little too quickly.
“You’ve been gone so long. I needed to remember your scent.”
That was a lie.
Simba narrowed his eyes.
Just look at him. Absolutely lying.
“And what was it you promised me?”
Kovu groaned inwardly. If only he could pull rank for once—is that how you speak to your King?
But that would only make things worse with Simba.
“I…” He pouted unwillingly. “I might’ve caught something unfamiliar…”
Simba was already glaring again. Kovu hurried to patch it up. “That doesn’t mean I’m accusing you of anything!”
“I can’t believe it…”
A hard shove struck Kovu’s chest, knocking him flat on his back. Simba climbed over him, pinning his shoulders.
“What is wrong with you?”
Kovu’s gaze slid aside. Being looked down on like this tipped the balance out of his control, sending a sharp, unfamiliar thrill racing through him.
“I don’t remember you being so… practised.” He slid a paw lightly along Simba’s foreleg. “Do you remember what you were like last time?”
Simba gave a faint smile. “I’ve figured things out now. Does that bother you?”
Not really. But if the reason for that change wasn’t him…
Kovu ground his teeth, thinking bitterly that maybe he shouldn’t have let Simba out of his sight so often. Who knew what sort of unsavoury creatures might be lurking in the bush, casting filthy thoughts at his precious amber…
“I know that look,” Simba said, tapping his cheek to make him look up. “You’re thinking something awful, aren’t you? Do you really trust me so little?”
Kovu lowered his eyes, then gave the smallest nod.
“I didn’t think it would be this hard,” he muttered, almost to himself. “You’re gone for so long, Simba. I finally get you back, and already you look like you’re about to leave again. Is there something else that keeps pulling you away…?”
“You know better than anyone that I just want to find my mother and Nala as soon as I can.” Simba licked his nose. “And then I’ll do exactly what you want—stay here, with you.”
“What if you never find—”
“I’ve got some clues now,” Simba cut in quickly, flashing him a bright, determined smile. “Next time… next time I’ll see them for sure…”
Kovu fell silent. He knew, instinctively, that this wasn’t a moment for arguing.
“You still haven’t told me how you ‘figured things out.’”
“Oh…” Simba dipped his head, brushing his mouth along Kovu’s neck.
“Do you want me to say it out loud, or do you want to feel it for yourself?”
Kovu’s eyes widened in surprise.
“You’re really going to…?”
“Why not?” Simba pressed into his thick black mane. “Oh, you still have duties to…”
“To hell with duties.”
Kovu caught his forepaw and held him there.
Amber eyes slowly turned, molten gold-red light sliding across his face.
That naked hunger, locked on him, unbroken even as he shifted and leaned forward.
“Kovu… are you sure?”
Simba’s nose nudged his neck, canines holding fast to a patch of soft fur.
His heart was racing so hard it felt ready to burst, but when Simba’s body pressed in close, chest against his back, Kovu knew they were moving in the same rhythm, just as ready for whatever came next.
“Come on,”Kovu murmured. “Show me what you can do.”
“Oh, don’t worry…”
Strong forelegs closed around Kovu, holding him steady.
“… I won’t hold anything back.”
“So he’s back?”
Vitani asked it straight out. Kovu halted mid-step and turned slowly toward his sister.
“How did you—”
“How would I not?” Vitani wrinkled her nose in mild disgust. “What, is something wrong with it? Can’t you smell how much of him you’ve got all over you?”
Kovu narrowed his eyes. The image of that gold-and-crimson figure curled deep in the tall grass, sleeping soundly, rose in his mind—and before he could stop himself, a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“Are you all right?” Vitani stared at him. “What is going on with your face?”
Kovu smiled even wider on purpose.
“I’m just in a good mood.”
“Enough. Stop. I don’t want to know anything else.”
Vitani waved a paw sharply, cutting the topic off. And so her brother—the King—went right on grinning at nothing, the tips of his ears twitching now and then.
No matter how much time passed, Vitani never got used to this version of him.
It was downright unsettling.
“He’s leaving again soon, isn’t he?”
“Probably.” Those ears weren’t quite so bright anymore, though they remained upright. “He didn’t say how long he’d stay. I didn’t ask either.”
“So you don’t even know which morning you might wake up and he’ll be gone?” Vitani shook her head. “How long are you two going to live like this?”
The look Kovu gave her turned serious.
“We’ve talked about this, Sister.”
His voice dropped, low and heavy, striking straight into Vitani’s chest.
She held his gaze for a moment, then looked away.
“That doesn’t sound like you.”
Kovu took a few steps, then glanced back.
“Do you really think he doesn’t know?”
“What?”
Vitani’s pupils widened slightly, confusion flickering over her face.
“Then why would he—”
Kovu shrugged and turned his eyes toward the sharp peak of Pride Rock, and the wide plains beyond it.
“Maybe he doesn’t want to stay here forever… with me.” He paused, the words catching in his throat. “Makes him uneasy—so he has to keep leaving, and coming back…”
“Funny, considering that’s exactly what you once meant to do to him.”
Vitani stepped up beside him, gazing out over their flourishing kingdom.
Silence lingered for a while before she said quietly—
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, brother.”
“You’ve done well.”
The King made his way into the shoulder-high grass, following the trail where the scent grew stronger.
He prepared himself for disappointment. He had already said his goodbyes properly while the other lion slept.
So when he found Simba still sitting there, those wide, brilliant amber eyes lifting to him and breaking into a radiant smile—
he nearly lost control of his tears.
“Did you really think I’d leave without saying goodbye?”
He went to Simba at once and kissed his forehead.
“I wouldn’t mind, you know…”
“I know—but I wanted to see you again,” Simba said, nipping affectionately at his cheek. “Maybe you’d like to repeat some of the sweet things you said while I was asleep?”
Kovu froze. “What…?”
“Well—when you thought I was asleep.”
Simba grinned, just a little wickedly, enjoying the sight of his flustered King.
“You never talk to me like that when I’m awake. It sounded far too wonderful.”
He cleared his throat and lowered his voice theatrically.
“‘Simba, how is it that even the light itself shows you favour, that you look so…’”
“All right, all right!”
Kovu clapped a paw over his mouth. Hearing his own words spoken back at him made his fur prickle all over.
Those amber eyes were still bright with laughter, “So… will you say it to me again?”
Kovu turned away with a huff.
“Didn’t you already hear it?”
“But you weren’t looking at me,” Simba said, circling around to catch his gaze. “And I wasn’t looking at you.”
It was hard to refuse eyes like that. Kovu thought for a moment, then gave Simba a small smile.
“Next time you come back,” he said, “I’ll say it to you again.”
“Oh…” Simba leaned into him, wrapping him close. “You’ve already got me looking forward to the next time.”
The gold-and-crimson lion went on from this land.
The King stood atop the high rock, watching that agile figure grow smaller and smaller until it vanished into the place where sky met earth.
“You know, if you ever wanted to go with him, I’m still here to take care of things…”
Kovu turned to his sister and said quietly—
“Don’t say that.”
“He might never come back,” Vitani said, eyes narrowed as the savannah was drenched in deep orange dusk, the passing animals reduced to blurred silhouettes.
“Doesn’t that bother you?”
The King stared at the fading horizon, as if his soul had already drifted beyond it.
“He’ll come back.”
Kovu’s voice was light, distant, as if a single breath might scatter it.
Vitani sighed softly. She knew when that young lion had crossed every barren desert, seen every lush plain, when he finally gave up that hopeless hope, there would be so much beneath this sky that could hold his step, and make him stay.
But her brother kept repeating the same words—
“He promised. He’ll come back to me.”
Vitani sat there a while, then rose and walked away.
The King would probably remain on Pride Rock all night again. She wondered whether, in those long, empty hours, he was hoping to see that gold-and-crimson figure return.
Hope was a good thing.
She prayed, sincerely, that it would not be in vain.