OC KISS WEEK #17: Duke and Cade, platonic kiss
It was a rare day that Cade saw Duke’s hair down, let alone Duke threading their fingers pensively through it. “It’s gotten long,” was all he said as the door to the port observation lounge shut behind him.
Duke glanced at him between their combing fingers and reached for the console in the wall. They tapped a panel, and the massive window went as dark as the wall around it. “Yeah,” they answered, twirling a brown lock around an index finger. “Haven’t had time to get it cut. Don’t know if I want to.” They pulled their finger away, letting the hair fall back into a semblance of place, tumbling past their shoulders with the rest.
“I didn’t know you let your hair down on duty,” Cade said, seating himself on one of the barstools.
Duke gave him a strange look from where they leaned against the wall. “Cade, I’m not on duty.”
“What? I thought we had the same schedule these days, since…”
“Cade, you’re not on duty either.”
“Huh,” he muttered, reaching for a bottle and a tumbler from behind the bar. “Commander Shepard is always on duty.”
“And yet you reached for that drink as soon as I told you you’re off. Don’t get all moody and Shepard-y with me just ‘cause you missed your clock-out time.” They nudged him as they slid onto the stool next to his. “I’ve known you too long.”
“There’s people who’ve known me longer than three years.”
“Yeah, and I’m one of them, remember? Elysium, asshole.” Duke grabbed their own glass from behind the bar. “What’re you having?”
“Vodka.”
“Ugh. Asari brightwine for me.” Duke had to get fully up on the bar, wriggling forward inch by inch on their stomach, to snag the bottle of multicolored liquid. They pushed themself back onto their stool with a small grunt of effort and gave a swift glare to Cade. “Don’t you dare laugh.”
“Laugh? Me? Never.” Cade poured himself a shot, but he could still feel Duke’s eyes on him, and he set the bottle back down with a sigh of, “What now?”
“Your hair. You haven’t bleached it.” Duke went back to pouring themself their multicolored drink. “The natural look is good on you.”
“My hair is always good.” Cade raised his glass, but Duke put their hand over it. “What?”
“Cade…look at me?”
He did so, even if he made it a glare of let me drink my fucking vodka, Duke.
Duke moved their hand to his arm as they said, “I meant it. About not getting all moody and workaholic and, well, Commander Shepard on me. The galaxy needs Shepard. And sometimes I do too, but…mostly I need Cade. So does everyone else in our squad. And I know it’s usually just your girlfriend—and now your boyfriend too—who can coax that out of you, but…y’know…I think you need Cade more than Shepard at this point.”
“Sucks that they’re both me, then.” Cade lifted his glass and tossed back the shot, grimacing to get it down his throat.
Duke chuckled and released his arm, leaning in to give his cheek a kiss before sitting back and raising their own glass. “To good hair and being off-duty.”
Cade laughed as he touched his glass—still empty—to Duke’s. “To Duke Wilder and their fucking weird way of trying to cheer people up.”
Duke snorted just before they drank. “To Cade Shepard and being a moody fuck.”
“To being six foot five.”
“Shut the fuck up.” But Duke was smiling, and, to his surprise, so was Cade.
