It started out innocently enough -- Koh wanted to learn how to swim. And who better to teach him than Canalo?
Welcome to a little Ryusoulger fic where both slightly gay things and beach things happen at the gay beach.
It started out innocently enough -- Koh wanted to learn how to swim.
Canalo agreed without hesitating; it was an important skill and who better was there to teach him?
The first attempt was a challenge; Koh was fearless, just plunging right into the water, unmindful of the frigid temperature or the pull of the current or even Canalo running behind him, calling for him to wait.
Unused to the rolling motion of the ocean, he was of course knocked flat on his behind by the first wave. He came up sputtering and flailing, pushing his wet hair out of his eyes, a look of determination crossing his face. Canalo knew that look - Unless he intervened quickly, Koh would persist until he either conquered the waves or drowned trying.
“Relax.” When he caught up with Koh -by then almost armpit-deep in the water and far enough out to have passed the worst of the waves- Canalo snagged him by the wrist, keeping him from charging headlong back into the surf, “You’re fighting it too much. Just...relax.”
Koh’s tenacity was impressive, but he would get nowhere treating the water as his enemy. If he truly wanted to learn to swim, he would have to be patient and listen -- He would have to first learn to go with the flow of the water; to work with the current instead of struggling against it.
“Lay still on your back,” he told Koh, pressing a hand against his bare back in a bid to get him to move, “Close your eyes and listen to the water.”
The look that Koh gave him then was a skeptical one, but he obeyed, first sinking a little as one does the first time they attempt to float on their back, but becoming more buoyant as he relaxed, loosening the tension in his body and allowing the water to lift him.
Canalo looked at him for a moment, taking in the sight of the water lapping gently around them, the cloud of Koh’s hair framing his face, the way droplets glistened in his lashes. His hands were still supporting the other man’s back as he acclimated to the water and Koh’s skin against his fingertips was warm, despite the chill of the ocean.
And looking at Koh, floating there, supported by his own hands...Something strange and frightening and wonderful awoke inside of Canalo, some whisper that this was why it hadn't been working with any of the women.
The thought was so unexpected that he reflexively pulled his hands back, the sudden movement leaving Koh to flounder in the water for a moment before he found his footing and Canalo stammering out apologies for his carelessness.
And so it went like that, lesson after lesson, with Koh charging right into the water, trusting Canalo to follow behind and teach him what he needed to know, each time getting more and more daring as he mastered first floating, then basic swim strokes.
And Canalo felt more and more awkward and strange, the more time he spent on the beach with his friend. The sight of Koh in the water was captivating; the way his lanky body cut through the water was beautiful -- A thought that was enough to send Canalo’s head spinning the first time it crossed his mind. What was wrong with him? This was Koh, not any of the women who had caught his interest over the past year; not a potential bride. This was his friend and he shouldn’t be thinking like that...Right?
And yet, the thought still persisted, niggling at the back of his mind.
It didn’t help that Koh was Koh, and not at all shy about initiating playful physical contact. In fact, he was downright bold in ways that amazed Canalo, not afraid at all to be close or of how improper it might look, if he brushed up against Canalo in the water, or grabbed his hand to pull him into the waves, holding on longer than necessary, or rested his hand against the small of Canalo’s back, fingers lingering, almost possessive.
The more it happened, though, the more Canalo wanted it to happen. Despite the confusing swirl of feelings it brought about, it was mercifully less awkward than any interaction he had with the women he met, and Canalo found himself not quite encouraging it, but not resisting it, either. Or maybe….he leaned into the touch a little, or tightened their fingers together just a bit, or sought reasons to touch Koh as he worked to improve his stroke.
Being close just felt nice; he was comfortable around Koh and besides, it was easy to be more confident when they were in the water.
But still, Canalo did not know what to do; whatever this unusual dance he and Koh were doing during the swimming lessons would not help him fulfill his obligation to his tribe. It was inappropriate and something he could never have, no matter how much he may have been coming to want it.
So he kept his distance most of the rest of the time, shying away from casual touches, trying to ignore the hurt, confused expression that crossed Koh’s face sometimes when he shrank back. And he persisted in his search for a potential bride, though he was finding his heart was no longer truly in it.
Then came the day that Canalo deemed the final swimming lesson. Koh had grown both strong enough and confident enough in the water that instruction was no longer necessary; he had gained the skills to hold his own against the current. Koh seemed reluctant to let the lessons stop, and had asked Canalo several times if he was sure there was nothing important left for him to learn, and as much as Canalo really didn’t want it to, whatever it was they were really doing had to stop before he lost sight of his duty.
As they sat side-by-side on the beach, drying in the sun, Canalo gazed absently out over the ocean, letting his mind wander. He was caught completely off guard, then, when Koh’s hand came to rest atop his, as if he was seeking to twine their fingers together the way he did when he was dragging the other man further into the water.
Startled, Canalo jumped, snatching his hand back and turning to stare at Koh through wide eyes, his heart suddenly pounding.
Koh just looked at him, a crooked little smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Relax,” he said quietly, echoing the words Canalo had told him that first day in the water, “You’re fighting it too much. So…” he again offered his hand, expression softening into something both encouraging and hopeful, “Just...relax.”
Canalo met his gaze, uncertain, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. He was fighting this too much; after so many, many years of being reminded what was expected of him, it was hard to act selfishly and give in to what he wanted.
His heart was still beating wildly and his face felt like it was on fire. But still, he cautiously reached out -This was what he wanted!- and took Koh’s hand, allowing their fingers to curl together.
He forced himself to take a couple of deep, calming breaths, momentarily turning his gaze back towards the ocean. Forced himself to listen to the sound of the waves washing over the shore instead of the disarray of thoughts clouding his mind. And as he focused on the warmth of the sun on his skin, the feel of the sand beneath him, and the briney scent of the ocean air, the racing of his heart began to slow.
It was then that he let himself savor the feel of Koh’s hand in his own, his grasp warm and certain. And when he glanced back over, Canalo found that Koh was smiling that smile that lit up his entire face, and he couldn’t help smiling shyly in return, giving their clasped hands a little squeeze.
Because in that moment, it didn’t matter what anyone else said or thought or what he was supposed to do.
This was what he wanted and he was going to just relax and enjoy it.
"Five Firsts", is a very gay collection of small but significant moments between Zack and Peko.
This is inspired mostly by scenes in Knuckle Gaiden, with -of course- a lot of creative liberties.
1 - First Meeting
The first time Peko met him, Zack was a beat up mess.
They had been a lot younger then; Peko had only been fifteen at the time and living in a comfortable little bubble of dancing, hating school, and goofing off with his friends. That was in the days before things got complicated and dangerous, when he didn’t really have to worry about much of anything.
He’d been in the process of avoiding his homework when Azami came home, pretty much dragging Zack behind her in order to patch him up after she’d broken up the street fight of which he was on the losing end.
“Hey, ‘neechan,” Peko said automatically at the sound of the door opening. It was typical for him to be sprawled on the couch with his school things scattered all over the cushions and coffee table while he (sort of) completed homework assignments. Mostly he just dawdled and ate snacks until Azami came home and made sure he finished the work.
“...Peko.”
That day, there had been something different about her voice and he pushed himself up slightly, peeking over the armrest of the couch to find not only his big sister, but also a tall, rangy-looking boy with a busted-up face standing in the entryway.
“This is Zack,” Azami went on as she shut the door, “He got in a bit of a scrape and I’m going to patch him up.” She glanced over her shoulder then, looking up at the taller boy, while gesturing vaguely in Peko’s direction, “This is my brother, Peko.”
“Yo,” Zack offered a sheepish half-smile that probably hurt, given the fresh cut on his lip, and a quick flick of his hand that was half-wave, half-salute.
Something about that lopsided little smile sent a queer frission of energy jolting down Peko’s spine and he sat up a little more fully, taking a moment to just assess the stranger standing awkwardly in their living room.
Zack was gangly and something about his posture made it appear that he was kind of uncomfortable in his own skin. Peko watched as he shoved his hands in his pockets, shoulders slumping a little as he glanced about the room. He was also sort of goofy-looking, with stick out ears and a crooked, uncertain smile. But there was something about him…
Peko hadn’t been able to make himself look away.
“Make yourself at home,” Azami offered, breaking the slightly uncomfortable silence that had fallen over the room, “I’m going to get the first-aid kit.”
And then she padded away, leaving the two of them there, and that must have been when Zack felt Peko watching him, because he turned then, and their eyes met and Peko suddenly felt incredibly shy.
And he dropped his gaze back to his text book and pretended to busy himself once again with his math assignment, trying to will away the blush he felt heating his cheeks and absolutely refusing to acknowledge the strange, kind of frightening feeling that had begun to unfurl in his chest the second their eyes had met.
2 - First Dance
The first time Zack had danced with both of them was just as awkward.
Azami had mentioned that she was teaching him; that he wanted to find something more constructive to do with his life than rumble in the streets and that when she’d mentioned their dance group, he had expressed an interest in learning to dance himself.
She’d befriended him, of course, because that was what Azami did. At seventeen, she was sweet and nurturing and took more of a motherly role towards Peko than their actual mother, who often worked long hours and -knowing Azami was both responsible and capable- left them to their own devices.
And though she didn’t regularly bring home beat up punks, their entire dance group was a bunch of ragtag friends Azami had collected, so Zack fit right in.
Except…
Zack was a terrible dancer.
He had almost no sense of timing or rhythm and it was embarrassing and almost painful witnessing his attempts those first few times all three of them tried to run through a routine together.
That was what Peko had thought, at least, because dance came naturally to him. When he was very small, he’d found it difficult to just walk anywhere or be still; he’d constantly been on the move, tapping his toes under the table first at meals and later at school, swaying or boogying to random music playing over store loudspeakers, dancing his way home from school to music only he could hear. It was something of a family joke that he had danced before he walked and Peko was happiest when he was dancing.
Zack’s presence was really killing the vibe; watching him was like watching a trainwreck.
Peko, again, couldn’t look away.
Zack was muscular and there was power behind his uncertain movements, Peko realized, but he was so damn awkward. It was like he couldn’t even control himself, despite the effort he was putting into it. He was strong, but clumsy as hell, and they had to stop every other step or so for Azami to gently correct him or nudge him in the right direction or completely start the routine over.
Azami was patient, but Peko was not, and she could easily tell his already limited patience was wearing thin.
“Watch Peko,” Azami finally said, pulling a slightly overwhelmed-looking Zack off to the side of the stage they were practicing on, “Just watch him for a bit. Seeing someone besides me perform the routine all the way through might help.”
Peko grinned, bounding into center stage and indicating she should restart the music. He was not shy about dancing in front of, well, anyone; he had confidence in spades when it came to his abilities on stage. He may have been small and runty, but he was graceful and he had the moves -- Azami even said sometimes that he was the best on their team, because he put his entire heart into it.
But something about it being Zack watching him…
Azami had brought the other boy around to their apartment a handful of times since befriending him and it turned out that -like his looks- his personality was also kind of goofy. He smiled easily and cracked corny jokes and even once stayed to hang out with Peko when he’d stopped by and Azami wasn’t home, draping his lanky body over the other end of the couch and joining Peko in watching the peppy anime series he suddenly found himself entirely unable to focus on because he was too busy sneaking little glances at Zack.
And though he still wasn’t really willing to acknowledge the kind of funny way he felt when Zack was around and what it might mean, Peko definitely noticed it; noticed the warm feeling pooling in his belly sometimes, or the way his heart raced when Zack happened to get physically close to him, or the way his entire face flamed when the older boy smiled at him a certain way. He noticed it, but tried not to give it too much thought; it seemed dangerous to consider what all those reactions to Zack’s presence might say about him.
But...That time, Zack was watching him, and though it was making him nervous and his heart was pounding, Peko let himself get lost in the music and flew through the routine as easily and fluidly as always, never missing a step or a turn, only faltering as he struck a pose while the music faded and he looked up to see Zack’s gaze riveted on him.
That time, it seemed, Zack had been the one unable to tear his eyes away.
3 - First Admission
The first time Peko admitted out loud that he loved Zack, Zack wasn’t even there to hear it.
It was that day...That terrible day when Mitsuzane and the turtle-like overlord, Shinmugurun, had appeared, ambushing Peko and Mai as they left the hauntingly empty convenience store, laden with provisions for the small band of Beat Riders remaining in Zawame.
Peko was scrappy, but not very brave, and he knew by then just how dangerous Mitsuzane had become. Only an idiot wouldn’t be able to see just how far Mitsuzane had fallen over the edge; the very fact that he’d aligned himself with the Overlords made it pretty obvious that his intentions could by then only be considered evil and self-serving and the fact that he was there, in front of them and with that turtle monstrosity willing to do his bidding…
It would have been so easy just to run. It’s what every fibre of Peko’s being screamed at him to do, even in the beginning, when only Mitsuzane stood before them. It was the smart thing to do, after all. Run and get Kaito or Zack or Kouta or even that scary guy from the cake shop -- They, after all, were strong and would be able to fight against Mitsuzane and the Overlord; they would be able to do something that meant anything, unlike Peko, who was so very weak. But he knew -he knew- that by the time anyone stronger arrived, it would be too late and Mai would be gone.
Apparently, though, he was braver than he thought, because instead of running, he stood tall as possible and tried to defend Mai against both of them, first the twisted shadow that had once been Mitsuzane, and then the monstrous creature who had not even the barest shred of regard for the human race.
It was a lost cause, and Peko knew it, but still, he shakily attempted to stand his ground, and as Shinmugurun slammed him around, sending the poor boy crashing into a pile of garbage, punched him over and over and over, and tossed him around like he was nothing, he was certain he was going to die.
And Peko did not want to die.
He vaguely registered that Mai was crying and begging Mitsuzane to make it all stop as Shinmugurun threw him down on the ground, as Mitsuzane smiled that manic, hollow smile and ushered Mai away, the Overlord in his wake, as Peko reached desperately, hand shaking, in the direction of the static buzz of the communication headset that had mercifully not broken as it hit the ground.
His head was throbbing and Mai’s crying was fading away, the world becoming sort of a fuzzy haze around him, but one thing was suddenly crystal clear: He was going to die without ever acknowledging and exploring those feelings he’d harbored all this time for Zack.
Because suddenly, he knew without a doubt what all those feelings were; knew that he’d wasted more than three years being too scared to admit to them for fear of...what? Being rejected? Being rejected by Zack, his buddy, his partner in crime, his best friend in the world, who didn’t care that Peko was always hanging on him or grabbing him when he was scared, who sat sometimes closer than was necessary, who did everything with him, who made his heart sing?
And he didn’t want to die; he wanted to be with Zack and tell him everything, let all of those feelings that had been growing for almost four years from a seed that had taken root that very first day they met blossom forth, let the whole world know that-
The sound of Kaito and Kouta’s feet pounding on the pavement and their footsteps thundering closer roused Peko from the state of semi-consciousness he’d settled into. And before Kouta was even out of sight as he scrambled after Mitsuzane, Shinmugurun, and the captive Mai, Kaito had gathered his battered teammate up off the ground, without even the pretense of being the tough guy who didn’t care.
Kaito didn’t exactly cradle him or anything, but in a move that would surprise anyone who didn’t actually know him with how gentle it was, he carried Peko -who was startlingly limp and heavy in his arms- princess-style back towards the relative safety of the garage.
You’re not going to die. Though they were words Peko desperately wanted to hear, they weren’t words Kaito would say. They both knew how weak Peko was -- Too weak to fight, too weak to protect Mai, too weak to even talk to the person who meant the most to him about anything important. And Peko was well aware how Kaito felt about weakness; if he died…
Attempting to open his eyes hurt, so Peko didn’t bother to try and therefore didn’t see the way Kaito looked down at him, kind of curious, kind of soft, entirely pissed off, but not at all surprised. He felt Kaito’s arms tighten their hold on him the slightest bit, however; felt the shiver of tension that passed through him at the implication that Peko thought he was going to die.
He didn’t say anything for a long moment, and Peko -well on his way to the blissful world of unconsciousness once more- figured Kaito was probably choosing to ignore his rambling, because it was foolish and embarrassing and-
“Tell him yourself.”
-Kaito didn’t think he was going to die; and his acknowledgment of Peko’s feelings was better than hearing the words themselves.
Maybe he was strong enough after all.
4 - First Heartbreak
The first time Peko felt like his heart might break was the day Zack woke up in the hospital.
Waiting and worrying had been agonizing. In fact, the past few weeks in general, from that moment everything went to hell and he’d thought Zack was dead, had been agonizing and Peko often found himself longing for days of the past, when all there was to do was dance and have fun.
Because he knew that everything was irrevocably changed; that even if -when- Zack woke up, nothing could ever be the same as it had before the Inves game, before Beat Riders, before Helheim had nearly destroyed the world. The situation had forced Peko to grow up; there was no reclaiming the innocence they all lost when they were dragged into this mess that was bigger than them all.
But still, there was Zack, and the hope he would recover, and all the things they would do when he woke up. His leg was bad, but it would heal, with time, and Peko intended to be there by his side to help him, because Zack was the most special person to him in the world.
There hadn’t been time to tell him between when Peko had been nearly killed by Shinmugurun and when Zack had left to try and stop Kaito. There had been entirely too much going on and that, coupled with absolutely zero chance at privacy over the course of those days, had left Peko unable to fulfil that last command Kaito had given him -"Tell him yourself." - before the bomb and the beating Zack had taken from Kaito that left him where he was then, unconscious in the hospital.
And though he’d whispered the words, time and time again, as he sat huddled there beside the hospital bed and held Zack’s limp hand in both of his, he was aching to say them to Zack while he was awake and smiling that crooked little smile that made Peko's heart jump.
He’d barely left Zack’s side at all and when he did, it was only because the hospital staff had shooed him from the room.
He’d been there when Zack’s parents came, looked in on their son, and asked the doctor a barrage of questions about his prognosis. They didn’t stay very long, just long enough to be reassured that he should make a full recovery; long enough for his mother to give Peko a dirty look, like this was all his fault or something.
He was there when what was left of Team Gaim came, the ones who had stayed in the city and helped fight as best they could, bringing flowers and a balloon that now adorned the small bedside table. Peko dutifully checked on the flowers and made sure they had fresh water; he wanted them to look nice when Zack woke up.
The rest of their own team came, too, and some members of others as well, all of them hovering awkwardly in the doorway, looking at Zack so pale and limp in the bed and probably Peko himself, too, unnerved by the sight of both of them lacking in the bright energy they usually displayed and the easy way they interacted with one another.
Azami came each day, urging Peko to go home and get some proper rest, not exactly arguing with him when he didn’t, but reminding him that he would find out right away if there was any change while he was gone. And when he stubbornly refused to leave Zack’s side, she brought him food and a blanket, an understanding, sort of sad look on her face.
And then one day...Zack woke up.
The sound of him stirring woke Peko, too; he’d been slumped over asleep on the little wheely tray table that could be moved for patients to eat off of while in bed. It wasn’t comfortable, but he’d been exhausted after all of the worrying and keeping vigil and whispered pleas for Zack to just wake up.
Peko had been the only one in the room at the time and he’d instantly gone to Zack’s side, easing him back down when he attempted to get up, answering his questions about Kaito and what had ultimately happened in the end, about to just blurt out the words “I was so worried; I love you so much!”--
And there was Azami.
Instead he blurted out “Zack’s awake!” as if that wasn’t already obvious.
And then something terrible happened.
Peko watched, not quite in horror but possibly something close, as some look passed between his sister and the man he’d been pining after for the past four years.Took a step back as their gazes locked. And as the look lingered for a moment, as some silent communication passed between them, all the hopes Peko had been harboring for the future shriveled up and died.
It made sense, of course. Azami had been Zack’s friend first and she was pretty and sweet and they were the same age and why wouldn’t Zack like her? It had been crazy to think that his friend would return his feelings; crazy that he had been about to say those words out loud and make a damn fool of himself when his sister was right there.
“I’ll…” Peko managed to squeak out, kind of choking back a sob that threatened to escape. He’d been right all that time; right to be afraid of these feelings, because in the end they were dangerous and his heart was threatening to break and shatter into a thousand irreparable pieces; he just wanted to run away somewhere and cry. “...go tell the others.”
And he fled the room before he had the chance to see the startled expression on Zack’s face or the knowing way Azami looked after him as he ran.
5 - First Kiss
The first time Zack kissed Peko, both of them were a beat up mess.
Peko had been shocked when Zack strode through the crowd in the warehouse, marching purposefully up to the stage and challenging Shura without a second thought. Why had he come? How had he known to come? It was as if...he somehow just knew that Peko needed him; that he’d gotten involved in something far too big for him to handle on his own.
Zack had come for him. He fought for him; took a beating for him. And at first, Peko had been shocked into inaction; he’d never expected things to play out like this.
He also never expected the look on Zack’s face when he weakly mumbled that he couldn’t leave, when Shura laughingly mocked him and sent more thugs after him.
So he just stood there woodenly, trying to process what was going on, as Jounouchi shoved his way through the jeering onlookers and hurried Zack out of the warehouse while Oren jumped gleefully into the fray against Shura’s men.
And then Peko did what he had always done; what he was all too good at -- In the ensuing pandemonium, he slipped through the crowd and ran, the sounds of the scuffle and Shura’s terrible laugh still ringing in his ears.
It had been entirely too easy for him to fall prey to Shura. Already privately reeling from the jolt of seeing Azami and Zack making eyes at each other that day in the hospital, he’d been a mess by the time Zack left for New York. And though he’d been spending the months in between doing his usual things - dancing, hanging out with the newly-formed All Beat Riders dance team, spending time with Zack, whom he just couldn’t bring himself to avoid even though he kind of wanted to- he’d been brooding and nursing a broken heart as well; some of the old light had gone out of his eyes.
He didn’t think anyone thought too much about it; all of them had been through so much over the year of Helheim. He figured anyone would confidently assume that he’d been affected by being right in the thick of things during the forest’s invasion...Everything he’d witnessed and participated in was certainly enough to leave anyone depressed.
He didn’t think anyone suspected that he was really suffering from a broken heart -- After all, Kaito was the only one who’d known how he really felt about Zack and Kaito was gone.
Shura didn’t need to know the specifics of his weakness; he sensed it all the same and pounced on it, luring Peko in simply through his misuse of the Baron name. And by the time Peko realized the other man was no longer the weak, spineless thing he’d been that day Kaito had cast him out of the group, it was too late for him to get out from under Shura’s thumb -- He was too beaten down and frightened of the consequences. Shura knew where he lived, after all, knew Azami and where she worked, knew all about them...And his vague threats about something happening to Azami were enough to scare Peko into complying, despite how utterly revolted he was by the twisted, cruel thing his former friend had become.
He wasn’t strong enough to do anything. He hadn’t been strong enough to see Zack off at the airport and take that one last chance to tell him how he felt before Zack flew off to a bright new future without him. He wasn’t strong enough to properly handle the team that had been left under his leadership. He wasn’t strong enough to even take care of and protect his own sister!
And he certainly hadn’t been strong enough to resist the urge to run after Zack, even though he really didn’t deserve to, with how badly he’d messed everything up.
Peko was weak; he was so weak and he knew it, and that’s why he wound up sobbing, his face buried in Zack’s shoulder. He’d completely gone to pieces after the older man had gathered him into his arms, crying unashamedly and clinging to him as Zack held him close and stroked his hair.
“It didn’t work out in New York,” Zack explained when Peko had finally calmed down some, “I blamed it on my bad leg instead of, you know, accepting my own weaknesses.”
Peko sniffled a little, giving him a curious look. Zack was amazing; one of the strongest people he knew, after Kaito, of course. He might not have been as powerful as some of the other Armored Riders, but he always gave it his all and had never given up on anything he set his mind to.
“I missed you like crazy,” Zack went on, that sheepish, awkward smile that had always done funny things to Peko’s heart crossing his face, “I couldn’t stop worrying about you and wondering if you were okay and what you were doing and even with thousands of miles between us, you were a huge distraction. I couldn’t even dance right without you there, because I couldn’t put my whole heart into it.”
And Peko was dumbfounded at that, his mouth opening and closing a few times with no sound coming out.
“I...I thought you and Azami…” He finally managed to get out weakly, too shocked over this turn of events to even finish the thought. But even as he said it, the hope that had shriveled and died all those months ago in the hospital room flickered back to life.
“Azami and I are friends,” Zack shook his head, “And she told me to talk to you before I left; I think she always kind of knew. But I was too scared...Even though I wanted things to change, I was too much of a coward to tell you.”
“Tell me...what?” Peko didn’t even think he would hear the answer; his heart was pounding entirely too loudly because he suddenly understood what that look between Zack and Azami in the hospital had really been about. She knew. She knew; it was stupid to think she hadn't known. Peko wasn't exactly known for being subtle -- Probably everyone had known. Azami had been telling Zack, somehow, that she knew what both of them were too scared and stupid to admit to each other...And it was going to be okay.
Except for the part where Peko had misinterpreted what was going on and ran off, too cowardly to just face his feelings.
But then, there where anyone who stumbled upon them could see, he found himself for the umpteenth time unable to look away, his gaze riveted on Zack's face, taking in the solemn, uncertain look, the softness in his eyes, barely daring to hope this was about to take off in the direction he'd given up on.
"I'm so weak for you," Zack admitted, "Like, so weak it's not even funny. From way back when you got all shy and pretended you were actually doing that homework. It's so stupid, how I can just say anything else; Azami always teases me about being straightforward, but I couldn't make myself say the most important thing of all." He shook his head again, the smile shifting to something a little self-deprecating, "But you make me strong, too; I have to be, so I can protect you, because I don't want to be in a world without you."
"...Zack..." Peko's eyes were impossibly wide and once again suspiciously wet. He thought he'd cried enough to last a lifetime already, but there he was, on the verge of tears again. "I…" He wanted to say it; it was the perfect time to say it. I love you. But he just couldn't manage to get any further words out of his mouth.
Apparently, it didn't matter and Zack could see something in his face as he looked down at Peko, something that signaled that they both felt the same.
Because then Zack was kissing him, cradling Peko's face carefully between his hands, tentative and awkward at first, but deepening it when he was met with no resistance, and Peko sagged against him, arms sliding over his shoulders as he stretched on his tiptoes to lean up into the kiss.
As they drew apart slightly to catch their breath, to just look at one another, unwilling to be further apart than that tiny bit in that moment, Zack leaned in, pulling Peko closer again and resting their foreheads together.
And when Zack smiled his bright, goofy smile, Peko got shy; felt his cheeks flame. But this time -no longer afraid of that warm, wonderful feeling that unfurled in his chest- he didn't look away.
That kiss, born of the feelings that had swelled and grown between them over the past five years, had been pretty satisfying, as far as first kisses went.
And though it had been the first, it definitely wouldn't be the last.
I've sent you mention once or twice that you are (or were) writing a Starjack fic. I was wondering if any of it was posted it anywhere.
Thanks for the interest!
I do have two complete one-shot fics: Waiting Out the Storm and Nuts.
The other project I’m working on that contains a secondary Starjack plot -Full Throttle- is nowhere near done, so you’ll have to be patient – You’ll hopefully get to read that someday ^^a
One of the best things about writing for my eyes only is that I can write whatever I want.
I don't have to worry about things making sense. I can leave plotlines completely unfinished if I grow bored with them. I can completely gloss over things, like action scenes, if I don't know how to write them. I don't have to take great pains to describe characters, because I can visualize them.
I can give myself exactly what I want without anyone criticizing or judging me for it.
It's a powerful thing, writing solely for yourself, and if you haven't done it yet, I highly recommend you do.
(same anon) omg, I knew I recognized that username! I loved reading those fics in middle school, unexpectedly stumbling across you on here after all these years is incredibly delightful. (dw about finishing them, I know how that goes 😅)
That's so sweet of you, anon!
Clearly I'm quite a bit older than you, because Smurfs was one of the shows I watched all the time as a child in the 80s -- But the franchise holds a special place in my heart still and I enjoyed writing Smurf fic.
I teach preschool and we have a bin of Smurf toys (some classic, some from the more recent movies) and it warms my heart to see the kids play with them.
I love hearing that you enjoyed my writing! I write things I want to read, so I know my fic isn't always what the masses want. It makes me happy to hear that people like it. Thank you for brightening my day! 🥰
As a bonus, here is tiny!Buggy dressed as Hefty for Halloween circa 1988.
Just putting it out there that in the past year or so I have written nearly 150k words of unedited, self-indulgent original fiction that no one else will ever read, complete with world- and culture-building and yet
I am struggling greatly to finish writing the fanfic I desperately want to share with the world
