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If someone had told you that the mysterious Hunter you’d met on your very first mission would be sharing a hot spring with you, impersonating a little sparrow to make you laugh, you’d call them insane. And, as you cover your mouth to stifle the little laugh that bubbles out from your chest at Xavier’s adorable bird impression, you can’t help but think it is crazy.
“Chirp, chirp! Since he helped you find the bead, doesn’t he deserve a reward? Chirp!” he says through his cupped hands, blue eyes shining with a playful mirth, as the corners of a smile peak out.
“What are you implying?” You say through a soft grin, unable to hide how utterly infatuated you are with him. It’s impossible not to be. Whisking you away to a hot springs inn just because of an offhanded comment about how the weather was perfect for it on a mission, scouring your room for teeny little beads just because you were worried, and easing your nerves by making you laugh—he is making it so damned hard not to fall.
He moves his hands from his face and lets the water lap against you as he moves just a tad closer, the smile playing at the corner of his pretty lips. You don’t move, trusting him implicitly.
“Well…” Xavier trails, his eyes passing over your face and settling on your own lips, waiting for you to understand his unspoken implication.
Pressing your hands close to your chest, you lift up from the water, just enough to place a sweet kiss upon his warm cheek. Lingering just enough that it drives him a little crazy, as you always do. He lets out a soft sigh and allows you to pull away, just to see the darkened flush of your cheeks. From his height above you, he can see the way your eyes can’t meet his just yet. You make to move away, to put distance between the two of you, but that just won’t do.
His hand finds your arm, fingers looping around and gently pulling you back to him, until there is hardly space between you. It isn’t unusual for Xavier to tease you, but this is bold.
Of course, there has been a building tension, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know that the two of you are straddling a very blurry line between coworkers turned neighbors and more than friends. Ten minutes ago, he’d kissed your forehead and called you good. There wasn’t anything in a friendship manual that said that was normal! And god, it wasn’t like you didn’t want something to happen—why else would you have said yes to such a spur of the moment vacation? But, Xavier was the king of mixed signals, of saying one thing and disappearing for days at a time.
He seems to sense your inner turmoil as he studies your face, and says softly, “I think I want something more. After all, it was an important bead, don’t you agree?” His hand slides along your arm, up to your shoulder, a little cold from the water but maybe you were just on fire. He stops just at the base of your neck, a thumb rubbing softly at your collarbone, and waiting for you to find your voice. To push him away and tell him to stop, because he would if you asked. He would do anything if you asked.
You steel your nerves and meet his gaze, bright blue like the sky on the best spring day. He was just like his Evol—bright like a star. Like sunlight favored him, as it reflected on sprinkles of water that slid along his toned shoulders and arms. It enveloped him like an old friend, painted him like an angel, and you wondered, briefly, if he was doing it on purpose.
He speaks your name like he is worried you’d scare, quiet like a secret for the both of you. It always sounded so heavenly falling from his lips. “Is it too much?” Xavier’s eyebrows scrunch together, worry etches in his expression—maybe he has overstepped?
When it’s his turn to slide back, you latch onto his wrist, anchoring him in the spot, as you stop him, “No! Um, I mean—no, it’s not too much.” You can feel the heat blossom on the apples of your cheeks, bloom from your heart outward and hope he blames it on the hot springs.
Xavier lets the corner of his mouth twitch upwards as he relaxes once more. “Then, may I claim my reward?”
“You haven’t asked for what you want, though,” you say, wanting to hear him tell you. To be clear, for once. And he understands as you look up at him through your lashes, as the sun streams through the trees above the two of you, reaching out to sprinkle your face in sunlight. He understands for the first time why they’re called god rays as they exalt you like divinity itself. You’re the prettiest when he sees you like this—when the morning rays douse you in golden hues and when the moonlight sparkles in the corners of your eyes at night.
It draws him closer, sinking lower towards your face. His breath is sweet from the candy he’s always eating as it fans against your waiting lips. He wants to close the distance, but he waits for you first.
“May I kiss you?” He asks just above a whisper, the rumble of his timbre raises goosebumps over your flesh.
You answer with a press of your mouth to his, sealing your feelings together in a gentle kiss. Xavier’s other hand finds your waist underwater and presses the two of you closer. You’d kept your towels on out of modesty but you can still feel his body through the soaked fabric.
He tastes like strawberry candy, and you smile into the kiss. Pulling away, just enough to look at the soft expression he has for you. Your hands reach up to card through the damp ends of his sandy blonde hair, a teasing lilt to your tone as you ask him, “Was that enough of a reward?”
Xavier’s eyes slide to the side as if he is contemplating, and you just know he’s working up another sly remark. You want to kiss him again, but you hold back in favor of the moment. He looks at you again before declaring, “One more.”
“That’s greedy, don’t you think?”
“Eternity, remember?” He says like it’s enough of an excuse to kiss you again. And it is. It most definitely is if he kisses you like this. It’s less of a chaste peck on the lips this time, its tongue meeting tongue as he captures your mouth again and again. The taste of strawberries laced in every pass of his tongue, as his hand grips your waist tighter. You hardly notice how he’s moved the two of you closer and closer to the edge of the hot spring until you feel the smooth stone press against your back.
There are probably things you need to talk about now that a boundary has been breached. Whatever aftermath is in store is something you can’t really care to think about when Xavier’s hands are massaging you into a pliable mess. He’s far too good at this and somewhere in the back of your mind, you feel a little envious of the people he’s kissed before you. It becomes a faraway thought as soon as he kisses the corner of your mouth, your cheek, and your jaw. Anywhere he can get, anywhere he hasn’t been before.
“Xav—“ you laugh as he presses a kiss to your neck, and he mumbles something incoherent onto your flesh. “We have to stop…” As much as you love it, your circumstances are rather visible and it would be best not to start the vacation off by getting kicked out for public indecency.
The look he gives you when he finally pulls away from his onslaught, with a kiss bitten pout, almost crumbles the resolve you have. He’s criminally cute. Your face is burning up as you stammer out, “D-don’t give me that look!”
“I’m sorry, I got…carried away,” his voice is its usual calm tone, like he hasn’t stolen your breath away for the last few minutes. He still hasn’t taken his hands off of you.
In the silence of the moment, you let your hands move down to his chest. Your fingers trace a scar that slices down the side of his pectoral, it’s old but you frown anyways. He has a habit of forgoing medical check-ups in favor of “sleeping it off”.
“It didn’t hurt,” Xavier says when he sees your mood dim.
“Hm?”
“That one didn’t hurt,” he grabs your hand in his and brings the tips of your fingers to his lips, “I promise.”
“I somehow don’t believe you,” you sigh, knowing what he considers life-threatening is different than what you do. He’s kind enough to lie to you on this matter, knowing you’d just worry more. “One of these days…”
“You don’t need to worry about me,” he lays your hand over his steady heartbeat, slow and languid. His own covers yours, fingers filling the spaces between yours, “I’m keeping it safe, I promise.”
Your eyebrows furrow in a little confusion at his words.
“It’s yours after all,” he claims as his palm presses your hand closes to him, the beads of your bracelet indent into his skin. Meeting his softened gaze, you part your lips to ask him what he means, but instead he whispers, “For eternity.”
And kisses you once under the sunlight again.