A Fuckless Year
It’s just a kiss, Legend tells himself. Just a kiss. One stupid, little kiss. This is, like, the least frightening thing I’ve ever faced.
Oh hells, who is he kidding? This is terrifying.
Ravio leans in ever so slightly. “Pardon? You, uh...”
“What?” Legend blurts uncomfortably.
“You said good night, and then you…” Ravio clears his throat lightly. “You paused and looked at me. With your eyes.”
Legend almost laughs. Instead, he makes a sound like a dying frog, then waves both hands in denial. “How else am I supposed to look at you, idiot?” he asks, knowing exactly what Ravio meant.
“Shrill,” Ravio accuses. Legend hopes the chain can’t hear them from the guest bedrooms. “You only ever sound shrill when you’re guilty!”
“I was—” Legend clears his throat and purposely makes his voice deeper. “I was not shrill. I’ve never been shrill in my life.”
Ravio pinches the bridge of his nose. The tips of his ears are endearingly pink. “Link…”
It’s just a kiss! You’re the goddess-damned Hero of Courage! Act like it!
But instead Legend stands there like a loser, palms unreasonably sweaty, heart racing like it hasn’t since the last time fought that pig Ganon. He inhales slowly and counts to three, prepared to, well, do something, maybe, but Ravio suddenly holds out a hand.
“Hey,” Ravio murmurs, expression soft and achingly affectionate, “let’s go to bed.”
Legend’s jaw drops before he can help it, and his entire face burns. “B-bed?” He yanks off his hat and runs a hand through his hair. He can’t seem to decide where to stare. “You—But I—We haven’t even—We should at least kiss first!”
Ravio’s face goes through at least four stages of grief, by Legend’s rapid approximation. Ravio slaps his palms together as if about to pray, then presses his fingertips to his lips. His eyes are comically wide. “Link, my hero, my best customer, my regular headache—what?”
“You were the one who said let’s go to bed!”
Legend slaps a hand over his mouth as soon as he finishes shouting. They both wince in tandem, eyeing the stairs, but there’s no noise from the others. Legend just knows there’ll be embarrassing hell to pay come morning, though. He drops his voice to a whisper: “You said bed. Did you—Oh fuck, you didn’t mean…?”
“No!” Ravio whispers back. “I mean, not that I’m opposed, but.”
Legend’s throat is so fucking dry. “You’re not opposed,” he repeats dumbly.
“Of course not! But just then, I meant sleep. Which people do in bed. You have a bed. Your own bed.” Ravio’s ears droop as his own dumb words catch up to him. “It was simply an invitation to retire for the night, separately!”
“But,” and Legend can’t seem to move past this point, Din burn him, “but you’re not opposed?”
“Ohhh my Goddess!” Ravio hisses. “What are you, some closeted creep? If you must know, then yes, I’m interested. I have been for a fucking year! Or should I say, a fuckless year, thanks to you and your stupid—your stupid—” He grips the air as if strangling some invisible menace. “You’re inept!”
Legend doesn’t think his self-esteem can get any lower at this point. “It’s not like you’ve been giving clues,” he begins weakly, but clearly that’s the wrong thing to say.
“Haven’t been giving clues? Haven’t been giving clues!” Ravio half-shouts. “The discounts? The lingering smiles? The robe slipping off my bare shoulder?”
Legend remembers that. He’s remembered it many, many times. “...Oh.”
Ravio throws his hands up in despair. “Oh, he says! Oh!”
The silence that follows is painfully, painfully awkward. At least on Legend’s part. “So…”
Ravio’s jaw works in silence for a moment. “Yes?”
Legend thinks dying must surely be less painful than this. “A kiss?”
Ravio holds up a finger threateningly. Legend wishes it wasn’t such a turn-on. “I swear to every Goddess in existence, after all you’ve put me through, if this isn’t the best kiss I’ve ever had, I’ll sell your hide for a single rupee.”
“Wow,” Legend breathes. “You really know how to make a guy feel confident.”
“And I don’t need your stupid—”
Legend pulls Ravio in by his robe and slots their mouths together, kissing like each taste is a breath, like each spark is a measure of adoring warmth on an otherwise chilly night. He chases Ravio’s mouth and is chased in turn, until suddenly he realizes he's pressed against a wall and gasping from lightheadedness.
“Rav,” he begins, having no idea what he actually wants to say.
“Maybe…” Ravio takes a moment to simply breathe. “Maybe more than one rupee. Maybe fifty.”
“Fifty?” Legend repeats incredulously, then laughs. He hopes the others don't wake, but he doesn't really care if they do. “That’s it?”
Ravio licks his lips and presses closer. “Maybe a hundred, I’m not sure.”
“Sucked the math right out of you, huh?” Legend jokes, only belatedly realizing what an opening he has given the greedy salesman.
Ravio’s grin is downright devilish. “Now there’s an idea.”
Legend prays.
—
Part 2 (sort of nsfw)
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