Long-Distance New Year's Kiss

Stingue

The Shadow Dragon Slayer tugged on the ends of his ponytail anxiously as he entered the already lively guild hall.

"Rogue-sama! Happy New Year's Eve!" a chipper voice called from his left.

He plastered a smile over his face as the perky snow-haired mage walked up to him. "Happy New Year's Eve, Yukino." He tried to seem genuine about it, but between his lack of actual enthusiasm about the event and the party setting, he highly doubted it was a believable act.

"Sorry Sting-sama couldn't be here. When's he getting home?" she bubbled, her grin never faltering. Rogue envied her.

Sighing, he replied, "Late Saturday night." Four more days.

The dark-haired teen hated when Sting had to go out of town without him. Granted, Rogue wasn't allowed to go to Guild Masters' Conferences, but it still made the shadow mage nervous when he couldn't ensure his mate was safe. What if something happened? What if there was another attack like there was on the Council prior to the Tartaros incident? What if it was all just a trick to take out Sting as a Guild Master? What if his water was poisoned?

His train of what if's was cut off when Yukino responded with an empathetic, "Sorry. I'm sure Sting-sama will be okay. You should really try to enjoy yourself tonight, though. It's New Year's Eve, so don't just mope around. Have fun!"

She danced off towards the dance floor, where Minerva had beckoned her. Rogue observed the couple as Minerva twirled her girlfriend around before they fell into the hard beat of the song playing, dancing around each other in a rather suggestive manner, stealing kisses from time to time.

"She is right, you know," an articulate voice pointed out from Rogue's side.

"I don't need a lecture," Rogue snapped, honestly not in the mood to have this conversation.

Rufus took a step back and scanned the Dragon Slayer's face. "You're acting strange, Rogue. Is something on your mind?"

He shook his head, really not wanting to admit that he was pouting because his boyfriend was out of town on New Year's Eve. "No, I'm fine, thanks."

"You should go have fun."

"I said I don't need a lecture!" Rogue shouted, his anger flaring more than it had any right to, given the circumstance. His face flushed as the room quieted by several notches. "Sorry."

As the guild hall worked back up to its original volume cautiously, the Shadow Dragon Slayer took his chance to escape the chaos.

He slammed the Guild Master's office door behind him, leaning against the door. Rogue released an exhausted sigh. Tonight was one night when he really didn't feel like celebrating.

For the past week and a half, Sting had been out on a job on his own, and after he had finished it, an emergency Guild Masters' Conference was called, leaving him no time to come home for even a moment. Usually, when he had conferences, Sting brought Rogue along against the Council's technical rules, for moral support if nothing else. However, due to the time crunch and the emergency, the White Dragon Slayer didn't stop by before heading to Crocus, where the meeting had been called from.

Since Sting was otherwise occupied, Rogue took charge of the guild. And along with observing the state of the request board (it was running low), he also had to finish the hundreds of forms and various paperwork that his partner had never done. To be fair, no one had ever shown Sting how to fill out the bills sent to the guild whenever someone broke something or how to write a professional-sounding letter to the Council, requesting forgiveness for their clumsiness and pleading not guilty to the claims that Sabretooth was just as destructive as Fairy Tail. Because of that, the Guild Master hardly ever did anything beyond signing off on various letters and forms that Rogue made up. Sting had always said that he admired the old rival guild's ability to "accidentally" annihilate a town with one attack, but to Rogue, that just meant more paperwork for him to help out with.

And as if watching over the guild wasn't enough, due to the fact that his mate never came home with his reward money, the Shadow Dragon Slayer had had to take a few jobs to cover their quickly-approaching rent. It's not even like they were hard jobs – on one of them, he didn't even tap into his magic at all, but rather used just his hand-to-hand combat skills to take down the opponents. It was just a lot to take care of without any help.

Rogue did not envy Makarov at Fairy Tail. The amount of paperwork he must have would be fucking terrifying.

But more than anything, Rogue missed having Sting at home with him. He could deal with whatever stressors that life threw at him when he at least knew that he had his best friend and mate at home to wind down with.

One of the things that Rogue loved the most in this world was on the nights when it was raining outside, the two would almost always leave the guild a bit late (usually they either spent a bit longer on paperwork on those nights, or they just took advantage of the lack of people still in the guild hall). Then, under the pouring rain, they would walk home hand-in-hand at a leisurely pace. Most people couldn't stand being outside in the rain, especially at night when it was mildly cold, but they were one of those weird couples who found the joy in everything and took advantage of every cheesy, clichéd romantic thing that they could.

So rather than rushing home, they would walk home slowly. They most often took the long way back to their shared apartment, through the centre square of town. And, in all of its clichéd glory, they would often dance around the square (awkwardly, of course, but romantically nonetheless) under the rain and the light cast by both the flickering lanterns and the balls of Sting's white floating around them.

Other times, when it wasn't raining, they would still walk hand-in-hand through town, taking their time to get home but rather enjoying just the company of the other and the setting sun.

But since Sting was still out of town, both the apartment and the town felt too lonely. Too empty. Too foreign.

And the strange thing was, Sting went on trips rather frequently, but Rogue hardly ever got this worked up over it. Usually he moped around but then got back to work, counting down the days until the White Dragon Slayer was set to return. Maybe it was because he was caught up on the fact that he just wanted a damn midnight kiss with the man he loved.

Something so trivial like a stupid kiss isn't something that Rogue, being a very logical and level-headed person, would make a big deal about normally. But, for once, the Shadow Dragon Slayer really wanted something for himself. Something for him to be selfish about.

That damned kiss as the big clock in the guild hall struck midnight was the one thing that Rogue had allowed himself to dream about, to wish for, for years. Maybe it was because it was logically possible. After all, how hard is it to convince someone to kiss you at midnight when compared to growing old with your soulmate?

Rogue fell into Sting's plush chair behind the Guild Master's desk and started sorting through the papers to finish.

The clock on the wall ticked too loudly for the Dragon Slayer's liking. It seemed to be mocking him. I'm going to count every single second you're alone in this pathetic Guild Office while you should be celebrating. But no, you're a glutton for misery, so you're just gonna mope around and feel sorry for yourself. How pathetic.

It was in that moment when Rogue decided enough was enough. If he felt that a fucking clock was mocking him, there was most certainly something wrong.

And thus, a minute later, he was back in the main room, surrounded by sweaty people dancing, singing, talking, and drinking. The lights had been turned down and covered in a bluish tint – something of Rufus's creation, no doubt with Orga's help for the electricity.

Someone shoved a plastic cup of something into Rogue's hand. Although he was suspicious, after a sniff test, he concluded that it was merely Coke and vodka. He debated whether or not drinking tonight would be a good decision. On one hand, he figured it would help take the edge off of his already foul mood. On the other, getting shit-faced drunk and not getting home sounded like a really fucked up way to start the new year.

Fuck it.

Without giving it another thought, he downed the whole cup in five big gulps, the alcohol burning his throat. He waded over to the bar and ordered another.

An hour, five declined date requests from various girls, and three drinks later, Rogue's head was significantly fuzzy. The big clock read 11:57PM.

Three minutes. I'm about to start the new year without Sting, he thought sadly.

From the bar stool next to him, a lightly intoxicated Rufus asked, "Are you having fun yet?"

"Sure."

Sighing, the Memory Make Wizard turned to the bartended and yelled, "He needs another, please!"

"Yes, Rufus, I'm having fun. Happy?"

"Fine," he said. "Wait a minute… It's been a while since I last saw Frosch or Lector. Where are they?"

Rogue furrowed his brow, trying to search for the answer to his comrade's question. "I think I left them with Yukino earlier this evening. She probably sent them to bed. It's too late for Fro to be awake, anyways."

Rufus's gaze danced around the room to where the clock clicked to 11:59PM. "When will Sting be home?"

The Shadow Mage groaned, mumbling something about I already answered that fucking question and don't want to do it again, you dipshit and then replied, "Saturday."

"Now," a familiar voice said from behind Rogue.

Rogue whipped around in his stool. Standing just behind him was a man with spiked-up blond hair, dark blue eyes, and a short scar over his eyebrow. The infectious smile on the man's face seemed to transfer over to his mate's lips, the pair of them becoming a matching pair of grins.

"Sting!" Rogue leapt off of his stool, wrapping his boyfriend in a tight embrace and burying his face in the curve between Sting's neck and shoulder. "I missed you," he mumbled into the warm skin.

Sting ran his fingers through Rogue's jet black hair, replying, "Missed you, too, babe."

And then, as Rogue looked up to lock eyes with his mate, the world disappeared and time slowed to a still. The people around them started counting down, but in the moment of their reunion, neither heard the numbers. Neither really gave a fuck, either.

"Ten!"

Sting brought his hands from around Rogue's waist and looped them around his neck.

"Nine!"

Rogue's eyes flitted back and forth across his lover's face.

"Eight!"

Sting surveyed the state of Rogue's lips: slightly chapped, though very kissable.

"Seven!"

Rogue's eyes bubbled with tears of joy.

"Six!"

Sting tugged Rogue's ponytail loose, letting the black hair free from its tie.

"Five!"

Rogue pulled Sting even closer in their embrace.

"Four!"

Sting tilted his forehead forward just a bit to rest it against Rogue's.

"Three!"

Rogue shifted his hands to the back of Sting's neck and his cheek.

"Two!"

Sting took a breath.

"One!"

Rogue leaned in.

"Happy New Year!"

And then their lips were pressed together as one year came to a close and the next began.

A/N: Meh. I got this idea from an OTP prompt somewhere on Tumblr. I sort of got lazy, sorry. But there it is. Two Stingue one-shots in a day. But at least this one is just short fluffy shit and not 9,000 word borderline-serious, borderline-humour thing from earlier.

-Stephanie