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“Hey. Before we go, d’you mind if we…have a chat?”
Gav sounded oddly vulnerable, and Clive couldn’t help the flicker of concern as he turned toward his companion—his friend. Gav’s lips were curled with a grin best described as sheepish, an expression that sat oddly with his usual playful demeanor. After a moment’s perusal, Clive tilted his head toward the dock, following Gav as he moved to look over the river.
“Feels like ages since we had the chance to talk,” Gav said quietly, his eye flickering between Clive’s and the slow flow of the water. “You know, man to man, like.” When he met Clive’s gaze, Clive couldn’t help the thought that the water was the same azure as Gav’s iris, clear and bright. It was a surprisingly sentimental thought, one Clive wasn’t sure what to do with, and so he covered it with banality.
“It does, doesn’t it?”
A faint smile tugged at Gav’s lips. “Back when you first took Cid’s name, we were talking all the time, working out what to do and that.”
Clive huffed the soft laugh that only Gav and Jill seemed to be able to pull from him of late. “There was a lot to work out,” he agreed, gratified to see the curve deepen on Gav’s expressive mouth. Happiness sat well on Gav’s face, far better than the tension that had lined it earlier.
“And there still is.” Gav’s eye swept down Clive’s throat, then flicked to a side before it met Clive’s again. “Those shoulders of yours starting to feel the strain?” Though his tone was tinged with amusement, his gaze was steady as it held Clive’s, boring into him. “Hardly ever see you round the hideaway nowadays—always on some errand or other.” The quirk of Gav’s lips twisted down. “You can take a day off, you know.”
There was a plaintive note that was hard to ignore, and Clive struggled to keep his tone mild. “Says the man who spends most of his time behind enemy lines.”
Gav laughed, a startled sound that went a long way toward relaxing the shoulders Clive hadn’t realized he’d been tensing. “Only ‘cause you keep sending me there!”
Clive exhaled slowly, holding Gav’s gaze until the amusement faded from his eye, leaving behind a sort of confused concern. “I know I can count on you, Gav,” he said softly, imbuing the weight of his regard into the words. Gav’s eye widened and Clive fought the urge to hold his breath.
“Likewise,” Gav replied, his voice almost as breathless as Clive felt, as though his chest was too tight to inhale deeply enough. “So you keep sending me wherever you need to,” he continued, voice husky as he leaned closer, “and I’ll keep going. Safe in the knowledge that I have a home to come back to.” His eye, heavy-lidded now, dipped to Clive’s mouth. “Thanks to you.”
Clive barely stopped himself from sucking in a breath, but was unable to help the rush of heat that swept through him at Gav’s warm gaze. Before he realized it, his hands had lifted, cupping Gav’s cheeks between his gloved palms, thumbs sweeping along his jawline, careful to keep the armored tips from scraping Gav’s sun-kissed skin. He frowned at the lack of sensation afforded by the leather, wishing he could feel the prickle of the fine blond stubble that gilded Gav’s jaw, the heat of Gav’s skin against his.
The tip of Gav’s tongue appeared against his teeth, the precursor to further conversation—an utterance that Clive feared would burst the bubble they’d enveloped themselves in, and so he did the only thing he could: he pressed his mouth against Gav’s, his eyes falling shut as he sucked Gav's lower lip into his mouth.
Gav’s gasp was sharp as the clang of Blackthorne’s hammer, the vacuum of his breath a sweet brush of sensation over Clive’s lips. There was the span of no more than a heartbeat before Gav’s exhale rushed between them with a soft groan, his hands wrapping around the back of Clive’s neck as his thumbs pressed against the exposed skin above Clive’s collar. Even through Gav’s gloves, his touch burned against Clive’s skin, the rough slide of leather as Gav traced circles over his pulse points maddening.
Clive pulled back, blinking his eyes open to find Gav watching him, his gaze heavy and dark. Before he could think better of it, he crashed his mouth against Gav’s again, enthusiasm overwhelming inexperience as his tongue pushed between Gav’s parted lips to flicker over his teeth.
It seemed to last forever, though it was probably only a second or two before Gav pushed Clive away, just enough to be able to meet his eyes. He licked his lips, a motion that caught Clive’s attention, only for it to shatter a heartbeat later when Gav smoothed a thumb over Clive’s lower lip. Wonder lit the shifting depths of his eye as he pressed gently at the center of Clive’s lip and ghosted a kiss over the back of his own digit.
Clive was a man grown with over thirty years to his name, battle-hardened and jaded, but that soft touch was enough to weaken his knees, leaving him staggering into Gav’s solid form. He felt as unsteady as a newborn foal, his fingers tensing against Gav’s jaw to keep himself from falling to his knees. Kissing the stablemaster’s daughter behind the chocobo pens on his fourteenth birthday had been a fumbling, unsatisfactory experience and his years as a Bearer soldier had hardly lent themselves to any personal touch, so the intimate way that Gav circled his thumb at the corner of Clive’s mouth and pressed another kiss to his lips was a revelation.
Gav’s name rose to Clive’s lips but didn’t make it past them, transformed into a soft ‘ah’ as Gav tugged at Clive’s hair and kissed him yet again, taking advantage of Clive’s open mouth to brush his tongue over Clive’s. Clive shamelessly followed his lead, and soon they were pressing closer, mouths roughly slotted together as they clutched at each other.
It was only when Clive attempted to slide his arm around Gav’s neck and found himself stymied by the points of his couters that they broke apart. Gav’s lips were kiss-bruised and shiny, and quirked now with amusement as he reached up to tug at Clive’s bangs. Clive grimaced and ducked away, only to be drawn back for a lingering press of Gav’s lips, more sweet than sexual, utterly perfect.
Closing his eyes, Clive tipped his forehead against Gav’s, savoring the mingling of their breath. How long they stood like that, he didn’t know, but it felt like he’d lost something when Gav gently pushed him back. His eye sparkled when Clive met it, his usual crooked grin curving his reddened lips.
“Right! That’s enough soppy shite for one day.” Though his words were flippant, his tone was anything but; in a pinch, Clive would call it almost reverent, husky and raw and near as tangible as a caress. “We’d better get this lot back to Blackthorne before he slings his hammer at someone.”
Clive had to swallow thickly before he trusted his voice, grateful that the years had left it raspy even without arousal singing through his veins. “You go on ahead,” he said, then touched Gav’s cheek with one finger. “And try to get some rest once you’re there.”
Gav’s answering chuckle was low, as heated as his eye when it met Clive’s. “Oh, I plan to, believe you me.” He caught Clive’s hand, drawing it away from his face to circle a finger over Clive’s palm. It was barely a ghost of sensation through his glove, but it was enough to make Clive suck in another breath, even as Gav dropped his hand and stepped away with a cheeky grin. “After Blackthorne gets what he needs, of course.”
Clive nodded, unable to keep from answering Gav’s grin with a slight smile of his own. Without another word, though his amused glance spoke loudly enough, Gav turned to head to the cart of stardust and prepare it for transport. Clive watched his retreating back for a moment, then set off on his own way to return to Dalimil.
It was far from how he’d expected the day to go when they’d pledged to find the smithing material, but Clive wasn’t going to question it. Perhaps, once they’d both had that rest, they could continue their conversation.