The Fourteenth Year - Winter's End

The freeze had not been kind on the kingdom's crops. With the passing of Kupa Keep's responsibilities being put on their new king, Eric's mother had been gone from the castle more often than usual to provide charity work. It's been two weeks since Eric's last seen her as she continued doing her rounds to make sure the people knew their King was aware and working to fix the food shortage.

Taxes did little for hungry people, so Eric had been forced to lower it as his first financial decision for the coffers. They didn't have extravagant dinners in the castle anymore, but maybe it was for the best. The last thing he wanted to reflect to outsiders was a well-fed king ruling over a sea of starving citizens in his kingdom.

Which was probably why Eric hadn't made any public appearances the last few months. He was a narcissist, sure, but he was a crafty narcissist. Working the angles was kind of how he lived and breathed. And there was no way in hell he was going to skip a meal like his bleeding heart fiancé would just to make a statement. It's called a hierarchy of priority - his health was much more important to the kingdom than a few starving children. Did a hungry bar drunk know how to run a kingdom? Exactly.

What they really desired was some actual solutions to fix this shit - which was exactly what Eric was going to give them even at the cost of his beauty sleep.

On one hand, once Scott's evil presence left the forest, the animal population steadily returned in considerable numbers. Jimbo and his hunters were actually put back into business and meat did help more than grain at this point. Unfortunately, Eric wasn't so sure the resurgence would be quick enough to feed everyone constantly everyday.

If it wasn't for the Canadians, he would have been really screwed. Living in the hostile north for the new immigrants came with the experience of dealing with shitty winter harvests. By the end of November, the Canadians managed to stockpile a giant cache of maple syrup and waffles for the populace to rely on - and that's better than nothing at this point.

A light trickle down of snow continued to dance past Eric's window. The weather had been steady since this morning, which was typically a sign of winter's end, and more often than not the snow left over melted faster than could be replenished by the next day.

Spring was steadily approaching. And with spring came crops and prosperity again. Thank fucking God.

Eric continued making progress on the mountains of paperwork that needed to be read and revised on before he signed it. He learned that the hard way when he inadvertently signed off on an ordinance allowing people to walk outside nude in public. He still had a sneaking suspicion that Garrison put it there to teach him a lesson.

But this also meant that he didn't want anyone to bother or distract him while he worked. With Eric's nose literally on the grindstone dealing with all the boring shit that came with being a ruler, he really didn't need Kenny, Butters, or even his mother putting him off with conversation. These days it was even common for servants to avoid the grand study unless it was an emergency or he seriously needed to stop and actually eat a meal. Other than that, guards patrolled his door and threatened to skewer them if they so much as breathed in their vicinity.

So when the study door opened without so much as a knock, Eric was ready to break his pen in half. What part of 'no visitors' did his guards not understand? His sense of time returning and his one-track mind to get this shit done unraveling, Eric pounded his fist hard on his desk.

"Whose dick do I have to suck to get some decent guards around here?!" he snarled.

"If you've been bartering services by sucking dick, we might need to talk," said a warm, long forgotten voice that seized Eric to the spot.

He looked up and literally drank in the sight of Kyle, his ascendance to adulthood completed on the cusp of winter. And, from the looks of the gnarled silver crown upon his soft curls, a crowned king on his own right.

Despite the fierce pounding in his chest, Eric somehow managed to remain disinterested and calm. "A king's duty is never finished," he recalled and sat back, gesturing in front of him. "What brings you to my great and prosperous kingdom, your majesty?"

Kyle offered him a slow and easy grin that made Eric's stomach flutter. "I was hoping to get married, but I seem to have misplaced my fat, immature fiance. Probably sucking dick somewhere, no doubt."

Eric's eyebrow ticked like clockwork at the insult, that spark of life returning alongside the warming season. "Well, you can get in line. I'm still waiting around like a dillhole for my preachy ginger of a fiance. You know he's Jewish too? Ginger, Jewrat, and Jersey - the unholy trinity of suckage."

"Maybe we should just marry each other and get back at them," Kyle sniffed indignantly. "Clearly we're out of their league." His voice was much deeper and his stance was strangely svelte and streamlined. At that moment, Eric wanted to thank God for elvish puberty.

"Clearly," Eric managed to croak out.

They kept this stalemate for a minute longer, which wasn't surprising. Even now, they still seemed determined to compete and triumph over the other.

But when Eric was just a half-second away from giving in, Kyle hopped over the desk in his desperate pursuit to climb into his lap, disrupting and spilling all of Eric's hard work off the surface and onto the floor. Eric grunted and leaned as far back as he could before the new monster of a Jew seized his mouth in an aching, needy kiss.

"God, you've gotten so hot…" Eric moaned into his mouth with desperation, his fingers quickly entangling into fierce curls the color of blood. Kyle's crown came askew and bounced harmlessly off the desk, but the elf didn't seem to mind the slightest. His curls were longer, but were haphazardly tied back, making Kyle look like a wild savage that only turned Eric on more than it disgusted him.

Kyle quirked up an eyebrow when Eric tugged at his ponytail in question. "It's a Jersey thing," he purred. "You wouldn't understand."

Clearly, he didn't. Kyle spent the half hour telling him everything that happened upon his return to the Drow Kingdom, occasionally pausing in his tale to kiss and pinch Eric whenever he tried to say something offensive or perverted. Long story short, Kyle's ascension had been postponed until barely a month ago due to clan squabbles. It took a quick scry call to Jersey to clear this whole matter up - diplomatically of course.

"You threatened them with your Jersey freak show of a family, didn't you?" Eric's grin was ready to split his face. "Fuck, you're so hot."

Kyle flushed irritably. "No! It wasn't like that! I just said that… maybe, they should reconsider. With myself on the throne, we don't have to worry about the piracy and trouble along our borders with Jersey. It was a perfectly reasonable offer."

"Mhmmm…" Eric hummed, serenely rubbing his thumbs along the edges of Kyle's hips. He simply sat back and watched Kyle literally try to talk his way into convincing himself more than convincing Eric, which he found fucking hilarious. Kyle just couldn't do hypocrisy, even when he obviously was one, and he'd rather spend hours trying to justify himself than admit that in a weird almost endearing way - he was just like Eric in some aspects.

He simply didn't understand why that was a bad thing.

"You don't believe me, do you?" Kyle snapped after an unnatural moment of silence on his lover's end.

"Of course I believe you, Kyle," Eric replied in that really irritating tone that said otherwise. "Like you said, it was a perfectly reasonable offer. Being a king is hard, Kyle. Sometimes you have to crack that whip even when you don't want to. At the end of the day, the ends justifies the means."

Kyle snorted then laughed. "You haven't even been king for a year yet! You're giving me advice?"

"I'm five months more than you have being a king, Kyle!" Eric said indignantly, then averted his eyes at the small, prideful smile sent his way.

"You do," Kyle said softly. "Your mother sent me letters about what's going on with the famine. I'm seriously proud of you, Eric. You really have no idea." Just when he thought he couldn't love Eric any more, he had to turn around and prove Kyle wrong.

"Well… it's not like I had any choice," Eric grumbled. "It's not very impressive to be king with your subjects all dead by starvation."

Kyle tilted his head in agreement. "A very good point. Which reminds me… since our dowry's are kind of null and void thanks to breaking the covenant…"

"Don't remind me. I'm still taking daily confessionals about that," Eric growled, then watched curiously as Kyle started searching through his robes for something. "Wait. You got me something?" His blue eyes twinkled with interest.

"Mhmm…" Kyle hummed absently before drawing out a piece of parchment from his pocket.

Eric eagerly unfolded it and…

…worst Christmas present ever.

"Yeah, right? It's fucking fantastic!" Kyle gushed out happily. "I did some expense reports with the treasury board and we've agreed that we have enough fruits and vegetables to distribute to the entirety of Kupa Keep for the next month! That's enough time for you guys to get the spring harvest rolling in!"

"I think the stick you gave me the first time was a more exciting gi- OW!" Eric whined when Kyle boxed him hard on the ears.

"Don't be selfish," Kyle warned, then combed his fingers through his short brown locks in apology. With a sound tug, he pulled Eric's head back and kissed him again.

Eric might never get over how right Kyle's lips felt against his. He felt like kicking the shit out of his younger self for missing out on some choice moments the years spent avoiding each other, but he was a king now. Dwelling on the past and what could have been would seriously cut in to his here and now.

And here and now? He just wanted to focus on how determined and inviting Kyle's mouth was against his until it was little more than a lewd devouring brought on by time and separation. Eric tugged and fought the buttons on Kyle's winter jacket and once he found the heated flesh of Kyle's stomach, the elvish king released a low content purr that he's never heard before.

When they parted for air, Eric absolutely did not whimper from missing him. Nor was he desperate to grip and explore Kyle's strong and slender torso. Maybe Kyle put a shitty Hebrew curse on the crops to gain his own strength. Eric was sure his approval of said curse would be considered treason to the Crown though.

"I'm exhausted," Kyle realized with a groan and wound his arms around Eric's neck.

"I'm pissed," Eric replied with a slow grin. "What took you so fucking long? Almost six months, Kyle. I could've had slept with half the kingdom by now."

Kyle's nose wrinkled. He practically ripped Eric's hands out from beneath his tunic. "Fucking gross, man. You probably have crotch rot or something. Now I'm definitely not going to have sex with you."

"My, my… someone's gotten so filthy," Eric purred and squeezed the inside of Kyle's thighs instead. The tiny strangled sound in the back of Kyle's throat was beautiful to hear. "Did the word 'sex' just leave your mouth, Kyle? The corruption within you runs so deep." His smile grew at the blush on Kyle's face. "You know what can fix that?"

Kyle couldn't help it. "Something deeper?" he tried, his voice hoarse by the predatory glint in those cold blue eyes.

"Yes," Eric said thickly and squeezed again. "So deep you'll cry out hallelujah." He pulled his chair back and abruptly deposited Kyle's ass onto the carpet.

Kyle yelped in alarm and glared up at the human king. "What the fuck, asshole?!"

"Accept our lord and savior Jesus Christ deep into your heart, Kyle. I'll not have a heathen in my marital bed."

"You motherfucker," Kyle growled, then laughed when Eric popped the buttons off his own jacket and quickly followed after him.

The Fourteenth Spring

They did have their Jewish wedding by the way. Well, a mix of that and a Christian wedding once Friar Maxi caved and refused to recognize their king's marriage despite a ruined covenant. Despite the supposed ruling by the clergy that their engagement had been null and void, they couldn't risk losing religious power if their king married through Judaism instead and inspire others to follow his example.

But Kyle had been adamant to be married as a Jew and so the two kings literally had to stand there at the altar and experience the passive-aggressive back and forth between Friar Maxi and Rabbi Schwartz, who both tried to out-important each other with the vows and the blessings.

"Do you his Highest Elf King Kyle, take Grand Wizard King Eric to be your husband, promising to cherish and protect him, whether in good fortune or in adversity, and to seek together with him a life hallowed by the faith of Israel, the home soil of the Drow?" Rabbi Schwartz asked serenely.

Friar Maxi snorted, then looked away when Eric shot a glare at the man. Every other day he would be fine with anyone ripping on the Jews, but this was his wedding. The last thing he needed was for Kyle to be upset right now. He'd rather wear the stupid yarmulkes and endure whatever silly rituals the Hebrews had than risk fucking up the biggest moment of their sad little lives. There will be no fuck ups today, or there would be a hanging instead of parade. He can do that now. Friar Maxi better fucking know this.

Kyle, on the other hand, didn't seem to be annoyed or perturbed by this whole arrangement. He turned to Eric, looking hot as hell in his form-fitting ceremonial robes and, with a sheepish smile, took Eric's hand and slid a polished wooden ring inlaid with gold onto his finger. He said something in Hebrew, causing confusion for Eric and the rest of his court, but it brought a reverent hush on Kyle's side of the aisle.

"What?" Eric whispered with an apologetic grin.

"With this ring, you are made holy to me, for I love you as my soul," Kyle answered. "You are now my husband."

That was… really good. Way better than the standard vows the Church usually fed to them. Eric's grin practically melted into a sappy smile and there was nothing he could do about it but let Kenny give him shit for it later.

Friar Maxi turned the page of his bible. "Do you, his majesty - Grand Wizard King Eric take Highest Elf King Kyle for your lawful husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, until death do you part?"

Eric's answer was simple and to the point. "I do," he said, treating it like it was the most natural response in the world. Kyle shook his head and grinned when Eric slipped a golden band rimmed with sapphires onto his finger - always the fucking show off with gifts.

And when Rabbi Schwartz actually invited Eric to stomp the shit out of a glass chalice as part of the Hebrew ritual, Friar Maxi just about had an aneurysm.

"Love is fragile like glass," Rabbi Schwartz helpfully explained to most of the confused court. "You must protect it, be gentle with it, help it shine brighter. To break the chalice, you will be reminded from then on how easy it is, your majesties."

Eric scoffed. He didn't need any justifiable reason for it. It just meant he could break something in his wedding which was pretty exciting on its own. When Kyle offered to do it instead, he couldn't help but interject. "No, no," he said, feigning reluctance. "I'll do it. Look how culturally sensitive I am, Kyle. I'll be more than happy to humor your customs."

Kyle's green eyes flashed in warning. He didn't believe him for one godsdamned second. "You just want to break something, Eric. I just hope you realize why in the first place."

"Yeah, yeah I got it," Eric dismissed, eager to get on with the destruction. "Love is fragile, words are like bullets, blah blah blah I got this."

As a consolation prize, Kyle could at least stand there and blatantly admire the way Eric moved in his fancy dark blue jacket as he tried to break the chalice with his shiny leather boot. But after the first five tries and not a single crack to show for it, Kyle had to cover his mouth to keep himself from laughing as Eric started to panic and abandon all sense of sovereignty to hop on it like a dork to no avail.

"Oh my…" Liane peered down in confusion, her tears abrupt and forgotten. "Is it supposed to be that strong?"

"We might need the name of the glassblower who made that," Garrison quipped to Mackey under his breath. "That's some fucking quality glass right there if it can stand two tonnes worth of weight." Kenny nearly fell out of her pew with laughter.

"I heard that asshole!" Eric snarled before snapping a glare at Kyle, who was just an utter failure at keeping a straight face. "How about a little help here, babe?"

Kyle smiled apologetically and managed to keep a straight face this time. "That's what I'm here for, hun." After a few more tries adding his own weight into the attempt, the glass chalice finally cracked and then caved under their fancy footwork.

"Fucking teamwork," Eric crowed triumphantly and high-fived his new husband without a care for propriety. For the first time since the ceremony, Friar Maxi and Rabbi Schwartz exchanged a smirk.

"By the Divine Grace of God and His son, Jesus Christ-" Friar Maxi began.

"And by the Hand of Yahweh and his pantheon's grace upon you-" Rabbi Schwartz added.

"You are now pronounced unified and married. May the kingdoms flourish under your righteous and kind rule."

Both courts stood and cheered when Kyle pulled his new husband by the lapels of his jacket and kissed him before Eric could make good on his threat to dip him like a bride.

When the chapel doors opened with great fanfare, King Eric and Highest Elf Kyle lowered their heads for the specially made crowns adorned with gold and silver - physical representations of unity between two kingdoms for the rest of Zaron to witness and maybe tremble in fear for.

The trumpets sounded and the crowd both royal and common alike cheered and tossed their hats off in celebration.

Queen Liane's tears did not subside when she cupped Kyle's face lovingly. "I know your father is so proud," she whispered. "Both of them are." Kyle's smile wilted, but was saved by Eric's reassuring grip around his arm.

"So did you actually swear in Yiddish or where you actually speaking in tongues like Friar Maxi claimed?" Eric whispered as they walked down the steps.

Kyle could only grimace. "Blame the asshole who designed these outfits to be so tight. Kneeling nearly killed me."

Eric laughed.

A little farther down the spectacle, Stan screwed decorum so tiny Prince Ike can hop onto his shoulders and see the small parade left in the crowned royals' wake. He blinked when Butters stumbled over, swaying unsteadily on his feet.

"Staaan!" Butters drawled in a way that reminded Stan horribly of his father. "Have you tried this ambrosia-thingy?! It's so delicious!"

Stan hissed uncomfortably at the fruity smell coming out of Butters' mouth. "Be careful with that stuff, Butters, that's elvish ambrosia. It's laced with fermented fruit."

"Dunno what that means, so I'll just nod and pretend I understand," Butters chirped. "Hey, did you see the wedding? It was great! A little boring except for the glass part, but don't tell anyone kay? I think Friar Maxi is just really dry with his speeches… like dry, wood dry… you know what I. am. sayin'?"

"No, I don't know what you. are. sayin'," Stan snorted and grunted when Ike started kicking him in the chest by the heels of his boots with excitement.

"Is Butters drunk?" Kenny's giggle was flighty when she pinned herself to Stan's side. "You do know it's prohibited for paladins to drink, right?"

Butters careened backwards and landed his ass hard onto the cobblestone path. "I'm not drinking!" he said happily and laughed. "I've been eating!"

Kenny snickered. "Oooh, a loophole. I didn't know you had it in you, Butters." She looked between them. "Anyone catching the bouquet?"

"Don't you mean the cockring?" Stan asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ike's grip on Stan's dark locks loosened. "What's a cockring?" he wondered loudly, tilting his body forward to properly look at his guardian.

Stan paled.

Kenny burst into a fit of giggles. "Kyle's going to have your head when he finds out!"

"If," Stan corrected and handed Ike to Butters. He bowed to her. "I would be honored if her ladyship accepts my offer as an escort for the reception tonight."

Like clockwork, she instantly played the shy maiden, bringing her hands behind her back to sway her hips from his proposal. "Hmm… you're good, Stanley. Very good…" She blew a kiss at him. "I'll have to accept - for the good of the kingdom of course."

Butters giggled. "Heh heh, she's gonna stick your hand up her frock tonight!"

"BUTTERS!" An older man said sharply not too far off. Butters instantly froze up at the sound of his father's stern voice. "HAVE YOU BEEN DRINKING, YOUNG MAN?!"

"Oh maple biscuits," Butters grumbled.

Not too far away, Captain Donovan and his boys chilled in the shadows of an open alleyway. Token was missing from their group as usual since he had been invited to the wedding. The perks of being a prince and not an unwanted scruffy pirate, it seemed.

"I am so fucking done with this fairytale bullshit," Clyde sighed. "What I wouldn't give fer a chance ter sail the open seas again."

"Maybe if you hadn't lost all the gold we earned on that poker game, we wouldn't be stuck here," Craig said as a matter-of-factly.

Tweek's eye started to twitch from all the confetti floating by. "D-do you really think King Eric is going to give us another loan again?"

"Why not? We're the eyes and ears of this kingdom," Clyde folded his arms and grinned at the royal couple waving at the populace not too far away. "They'll definitely need us again. I can feel it in me bones."

"Yeah, just don't squander that shit away again," Craig warned. "We almost had to eat Tweek during the famine if you recall."

"Ack!" Tweek covered his ears. "I don't want to remember it! Oh God, no!"

Clyde simply smiled and, when he caught Lady McCormick giving him a deliberate look beyond Stan's shoulder, couldn't help but wink back. Oh yes, he was sure they were going to be fortunate again. She would see to that.

The best part about being king was that Eric could order Big Queer Al to hang if he dared tried to make a spectacle out of the reception. Thankfully, the man seemed to have caught on that King Eric was far less accommodating than his mother. His threats held enough water that Al kept his big mouth shut the entire time, which was a wedding gift on its own for the newlyweds.

There was no fanciful music or choreographed numbers save for the orchestra and the regular normal waltzes commenced right after the new royal couple traditionally provided the first dance. It didn't last very long because Eric was already complaining of being hungry so they ended up spending most of the reception by the grand dinner table cooling their heels.

While Eric laughed at something Kyle was chastising him with over a glass of wine, Garrison opened his palm to Mackey. "Alright, pony up the gold. I've won this."

"Technically King Kyle was considered dead, m'kay, so I won the first bet." Nevertheless, Mackey was a good sport and opened up his leather purse.

Overhearing them, Liane frowned and swarmed up upon them like a mother goose. "What's this about a bet?"

Mackey gulped. "N-not… I mean… it was harmless, your grace -"

"Oh for fuck's sake, you make sound like it's illegal," Garrison said, rolling his eyes. "Thirteen years ago, we made a bet over whether or not this whole engagement thing was going to blow up in our faces. Mackey bet that it'd fall through and I countered it. I won, I'm a hundred coins richer, and I'm spending it on my much needed retirement. What?"

Liane shook her head in disbelief. "Wait… you believed they would get together, Garrison? And you!" She huffed at Mackey. "You thought it wouldn't have worked? I don't understand!"

"Uhm… what's not to understand, m'kay?"

"Shouldn't it have been the other way around? You weren't exactly encouraging your side of the bet the entire time, Herbert."

"Oh please," Garrison dismissed. "A blind, deaf man with a peg leg could sense the chemistry a mile away. Encouraging it would have been overkill."

"I should have Eric ban gambling in this kingdom," she folded her arms. "It's obviously not healthy for anyone!"

Mackey nervously rubbed his hands together. "Will it be before or after the payout on your end, your grace, m'kay?"

Liane blinked in alarm before clearing her throat. "Oh, there's the Duke of Denver! It seems he's has too much wine for tonight. Excuse me."

"Yeah, I bet he does," Garrison replied smugly.

Out in the courtyard, Kyle dodged out of the banquet hall for some fresh air. He could still smell the thick cloying smell of smoked food and the sounds of the party still in full force and he ignored it in favor for some actual greenery. There was so much he could witness watching Eric gulp down food like it was his last meal.

Kyle walked a bit down to the edge of the courtyard until he could see the moon hanging over the ocean. He had never experienced Kupa Keep in the midst of spring. It was both familiar and new to him. Maybe he could convince Eric to travel back to the Drow homeland with him and see what spring was like there as well. These were actual ideas that could come to fruition and that itself brought a spring to his step.

Whether it was here or the Drow or whichever, his home was with Eric and their friends and loved ones. He couldn't be anymore content with this ending so long as it lasted, right?

He was surprised to find the three animal spirits suddenly appear before him.

"Great job, your majesty!" Catatafish exclaimed.

The Sparrow Prince nodded and bowed. "Thanks to you and your friends, we are all free."

Kyle blinked before smiling at the apparitions. "Oh, well I'm glad to hear that. After all that you've done, I'd say you deserve it."

"But your adventures are just beginning," The Frog King declared. "For you are no ordinary king, Kyle." A gentle ball of magic drifted down from them. "You are the Stag King!"

He held his hands up in polite refusal of the offering. "Uh, no, that's okay. One royal title is already a mouthful to me, but I appreciate the - AGH!" He recoiled when the bright ball clunked him in the head and dissipated. "Hey!" he snapped, only to find the spirits gone.

Unbeknownst to him, they had gifted Kyle with an ancient knowledge that had been lost to the Drow royal line for nearly eight centuries - the ability to shapeshift into a powerful creature at will.

Idly rubbing his forehead, Kyle sighed and leaned against the guardrail, checking his hands and his magic for any weird things they did to it. When he discovered none, his annoyance drifted away once he realized where he was standing.

He was overlooking the sea where Eric respectfully sent his father's funeral rites.

"I'm sorry, dad…" he whispered and quickly pinched the bridge of his nose to avoid tearing up again. "If I didn't doubt Eric in the first place, maybe you would have…"

"Regret is bad luck on someone's wedding day."

A small exasperated smile revealed itself when Eric stood beside him. "Hey. Did you already clear out the buffet?" he teased.

"Ha ha, a fat joke. Like that never gets old," Eric drawled irritably. "I hate you so fucking much, you greedy Jewrat."

Kyle snickered. "Sorry babe. Do you forgive me?"

"Might as well have to. Divorce is a sin in this country," Eric laughed at the affronted look his husband was sporting. "Sorry babe," he teased. "Do you forgive me?"

"Nope. We have divorces in my country. And I'm going to take half of everything you own if you piss me off," Kyle growled.

Eric laughed. "Keep digging that stereotype in, Kyle." With a sudden thoughtful look, he rifled through his trouser pockets and dangled a gold familiar chain in front of Kyle. "Guess who got rid of the smell?"

Kyle's eyes lit up in recognition. "My necklace!" He eagerly turned the pendant in his hands. "Gods, I wish I had this when I was kidnapped," he said ruefully. "I just felt so lost without it."

"I know," Eric murmured soberly. He spun his finger around in a gesture for Kyle to turn around. "Do you want me to…?"

"Please," he urged. As soon as Kyle turned, he felt the comforting slide of Eric's fingers grazing his neck and exhaled in relief once the clasp was safely secured. Now everything felt complete. He smiled when Eric wrapped his arms around his shoulders and pulled him close.

"You know," Kyle continued, looking out into the sea. "The last conversation I ever had with dad was about you."

"I'm sure he had a lot of nice things to say about me that night." Eric tried for humor, but the pensive way he squeezed his shoulders indicated otherwise.

Kyle patted his elbow comfortingly. "He thought you were genuine. He said we just needed time."

"Do we have time now?" The question seemed to hang. Eric, at long last, was showing Kyle the insecurity he kept down his entire life. Even now, despite fighting a giant fucking monster and running a prosperous and content kingdom, he still thought he wasn't worth his salt.

Kyle believed that he could change that. His father had been right after all. He turned in Eric's embrace and eased into the human like it was as natural as breathing. "We have more than time," he replied, pulling Eric's mouth down to his. "We've got the rest of our lives."

Or perhaps, Eric thought defiantly, they had much longer than that.

The End