@ransa there’s absolutely no excuse for how late this is. I’m really sorry for making you wait this long. anyway here’s the other half of your secret santa present in the form of a gilcu ficlet
Cu clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Why can’t that stupid fake priest do his own errands,” he muttered under his breath. Despite his coat, he shivered and huddled his arms together. “It’s not like he has anything better to do. And more importantly…” He turned to glare at the person beside him. “Why the hell are you here?”
“Oh?” Gilgamesh scoffed, “What is a lowly dog like you doing to question my motives?”
“Don’t call me a—” Cu grit his teeth and took a deep breath. “Isn’t it beneath a ‘mighty king’ like yourself to run errands for your Master?”
Gilgamesh smirked. “I can do whatever I please.”
“Yeah, yeah. Okay. Whatever.” Cu chose to abstain before it became a fight and went back to wallowing in how cold it was.
This weather was some serious shit. Fuyuki was never usually this cold. When he asked Kotomine why he couldn’t just go to the store in spirit form, his Master got on that stupid grin of his and answered, “Because I say so.” That fucking sadist.
Cu managed to walk for several minutes without acknowledging that blinding gold spotlight next to him. He saw a pebble on the ground. He kicked it, then kicked it again. When it at last landed out of his path, he thought about women. Caster, Rider, that chick from the convenience store… When he listed every attractive woman he could think of in his head, he went back to shivering. Honestly he was just doing any other possible thing than thinking about the person walking with him.
Said living embodiment of an asshole seemed to be doing his best to ignore him as well. Gilgamesh’s gaze was turned straight forward, unwavering. Despite his unbuttoned coat and complete lack of any other outerwear, he didn’t seem to be shivering at all. What was his deal? They were both demigods, and Gilgamesh came from the fucking Middle East. Unless… was that two-thirds god shit real and not just something the writer of his epic wrote in order to stroke Gilgamesh’s dick as much as possible? Though, looking a little closer, Cu could see in fact the tips of Gilgamesh’s ears and nose were red.
Satisfied on the fact that maybe the great King of Heroes wasn’t so above everything after all, Cu snickered and went back to looking ahead.
“What are you laughing about, dog?”
“Nothing a great and mighty king like yourself needs to concern yourself with.”
Gilgamesh flicked his eyes in a glare for just a moment before looking away.
The wind and snow picked up again. It stung Cu’s skin and blew his hair whipping behind him. Soon the path in front of him was nowhere in sight. There was no way he could continue forward like this. With a hand held up to shield his eyes, he searched his surroundings for somewhere to go. A sliver of something silver standing against the white caught his gaze. Cu trudged towards it until the shape of a bus stop became apparent. A light sigh of relief escaped him, and he took shelter.
The cold here was no less, but now at least he could stop and wipe the snowflakes from his eyelashes. He took a seat on the wooden bench and watched the curtains of white swirl past the glass windows. His mind drifted. This was a conscious decision; he’d rather space out than acknowledge the one who had appeared beside him.
Of course that smartass couldn’t let him have any peace.
“You may not ignore the king when he presents himself in front of you.”
Cu turned to snap a comeback, but froze. Like a rocket his chest shot up into his throat.
Gilgamesh’s golden head was illuminated by the whiteness all around them. In the absence of any color, his glow shone like a halo. His sharp, serpentlike eyes pierced Cu like his own Noble Phantasm. It was as if he was seeing what two-thirds god meant for the first time.
“Hm?” Gilgamesh cocked his head, the halo following him. A smirk grew on his lips. “That pathetic gaze of awe... Are you finally humbling yourself to your king, mongrel?” Even the cadence of his voice seemed to ensnare him. “I suppose I shall reward you.”
He leaned closer and fit his lips perfectly with Cu’s.
To his own surprise, Cu found himself kissing back. He ran a hand up the back of that stupid blonde hair and dug his nails under the strands. He muffled a moan of passion into Gilgamesh’s jaw. The tang of wine engulfed his senses.
For someone who acted so nonchalant going in, Gilgamesh sure was going all-out. He kissed with a fervor and had his arm hooked around Cu’s neck. When their mouths parted for even a moment he would lick Cu’s lower lip instead.
At last they finally did pull back, and Cu promptly swore up a storm as heat rose to his face. God, he would have been happier of Gilgamesh had forced himself upon him. But he hadn’t. Cu had welcomed it. And he hated that so much more. This shitfaced sparkly arrogant bratty fuckhead with a drinking problem kissed him and he liked it.
Gilgamesh was meanwhile trying to fix his hair and pretend like he wasn’t flustered himself. “You surpassed my expectations,” he said. “I suppose you’re my dog now.”
Cu shrugged and rolled his eyes, and in doing so realized the blizzard had stopped long ago.
