Archive of Our Own ^beta

           Having lived half of his life in Corneria City, Fox had thought he knew the ins and outs of the metropolis.  But taking one look at high society had him feeling like he had landed on an alien planet and all eyes were on him.  He adjusted his crimson tie, wondering if the color was perhaps a poor choice.  Corneria regalia favored blue and green, after all.  Red had been the enemy’s color two years ago, when the city had been the stage of the worst siege the modern era had ever seen.  But red contrasted well with the white of his collared shirt and the deep ebony of his jacket-- so maybe no one would think too hard on it.  

            A live symphonic orchestra played on the stage.  The music was definitely not his taste-- an old waltz played that made him feel even more out of place, if that was possible.  On the dance floor, the rich and wealthy danced.  Their movements were calculated and fluid, dancing like brushstrokes upon a canvas.  He grabbed a martini off of a nearby waiter’s tray and drank it down in two gulps, wiping away the droplets that clung to the corner of his mouth.  

            “Easy there, killer,” Falco remarked to him, lounging near the open bar with his elbows languidly propping himself up.  He had opted for a blue suit, one that was three shades darker than his plumage.  His tie was navy blue and his shirt was cloudy white underneath.  He had a drink daintily in one hand, held with astonishing expertise.  

            “I’m not used to parties like this,” Fox admitted quietly with a tipped ear flitted to the side.  

            “Me neither,” Falco shrugged.

            “You look right at home.”

            “Heh.”

            The vulpine looked out towards where General Pepper was talking jovially with Peppy and a few other veteran soldiers.  There were a few captains from the Lylat Wars strewn about the partygoers.  Their crisp military uniforms had been worn in lieu of suits and blazers.  But they were few and far-in-between, in comparison to the wealthy that dominated the scene.  It may have been a celebration commemorating the end of the Lylat Wars three years ago, but it felt more like an excuse for the rich to throw their money around. 

            He had never been a fan of this extravagant lifestyle but maybe that was his upbringing talking.  Even when he had been dating Fara, he had shied away often from her family gatherings, knowing that he was definitely a black sheep among them.  

            That’s right.  It’s possible her family is here.  

            They had broken up awhile back-- maybe a year ago, he could not really remember.  Their relationship had faded so gradually over time that he was not sure if there had been a defining moment where it had ended officially.  And, sure, it had not been the worst breakup to ever happen but he was certain there were still lingering hurt feelings on either sides.  But what could he say?  Sometimes, people just fell out of love.  Their paths led them different ways.  There was no harm in that.  No shame.  

            He searched the crowd quietly, wondering if she was there.  Wondering if her father was there.  But after a few quick scans, he realized he did not see them.  Relief washed over him and he sighed.

            “Somethin’ up?” Falco asked after he finished his drink.  “You keep looking around like you’re looking for someone.” 

            “Nah,” Fox shook his head. “Just seeing if I recognize anyone.”

            “No Bill?” Falco asked.

            “Nah, he said he wasn’t feeling too good so he was gonna skip out tonight,” Fox replied.

            “Pity,” Falco said, setting his empty glass down.  Fox quirked a brow at him.  He thought to ask the avian why he was drinking; Falco had always had an outspoken disdain for alcohol and the way it made people act.  But the vulpine kept his thoughts to himself, settling in next to him at the bar. 

            It happened gradually.  He felt one of Falco’s fingers toy with one of his own.  It was a small nudging.  He did not respond at first to the avian’s prying, his forefinger wriggling its way into the warmth of Fox’s palm on the bar’s surface.  He kept an even expression, looking out at the dancers.  Falco’s finger dipped further into the curve of the vulpine’s palm, tickling his skin.  Fox quirked a brow, side-eyeing the bird.  With a devilish smirk, Falco began to dip his finger in and out of the hole between Fox’s palm and the bar top.  Fox’s emerald eyes cut to the avian.  Falco’s grin widened and Fox quickly moved his hand away.  His tipped ears went back, jaw jutting out stubbornly.

            “You’re ridiculous.”

            “What?  Just enjoying my boyfriend’s company.”

            Heat covered Fox’s cheeks and neck, his ears pulling back with alarm.  Emerald eyes flashing, he prayed no one had heard Falco’s brash remark.  The hair on his tail bristled, as though he had been shocked.  

            “You act like that’s a bad thing,” Falco said with a gander up and down the vulpine. 

            In a perfect world, they would not have to hide their affections.  But they did not live in a perfect world.  Fox had not lived a quiet life since the day his father had died.  Everyone’s eyes had fallen on him with high expectations that he would become what his father had been-- a symbol of good in the world.  That in itself had created issues.  It felt like no matter where he went, he was always being compared.  He was always held to those lofty expectations.

            Throw in a relationship with a teammate and he was certain the headlines would be all over the tabloids within minutes about how he was unprofessional for dating someone in his own team.  He inwardly cringed.  What would they say?  Falco was not exactly from a prestigious pedigree and the Cornerians did love their damn social classes.  Fox was worried about the things that would come out-- and not for his own sake, but for Falco’s. The bird might have put on a fierce front but nosy media could make even the sanest person break.  

            I guess he’s already in the limelight because he’s on the Star Fox team.  But I just don’t want people getting the wrong idea.  I don’t want the extra drama.

            “I just don’t want people to know yet,” Fox replied quietly.

            “I get it,” Falco let his hand fall away.  “You know, we should probably at least tell Peppy and Slippy.”

            “I feel like that’s asking for a scolding,” Fox remarked bitterly.  

            Falco nudged him in the ribcage with his elbow. “Geez, you’re such a downer today.  What would cheer you up?”  His eyes flitted to the dance floor, then to the vulpine. “How’s about a dance?”

            “With you?” Fox asked. 

            “Who else?” Falco retorted smartly.

            “I…” Fox began, scratching the back of his neck. “I don’t dance.”

            The avian looked him up and down.  Fox could tell there was a tidal wave of things he was toying with saying.  But for one reason or another, Falco did not voice his thoughts.  He smiled—some blend of amusement and genuine glee in the details of his face.  Fox’s tail danced nervously behind him, almost knocking into a nearby waiter’s kneecap. 

            “You wanna learn?” Falco asked.

            “Here?” Fox asked.

            “It’s as good of a place as any,” Falco shrugged. “Trial by fire.  You know, two years ago, you didn’t think twice about taking our asses to Solar.  Can’t be any worse than that, right?”

            “I’d rather fight Vulcain again than show you how bad I am at dancing,” Fox admitted sheepishly.  “Maybe some other time, Falco.  Not here.”

            “Hm.  Well, if not on this dancefloor, maybe we can find another,” Falco suggested and Fox cocked an eyebrow at him.  The avian gave him a flirty wink and strolled towards the large windows on the far eastern hall. 

            Night had draped its serene arms around Corneria City.  To the west, the burning sun still lingered just beyond the horizon.  But to the east lay the bountiful stars they had flown among for the last few years.  They twinkled and danced in their own way, a language similar to the aristocrats waltzing across the marble inside.  The night sky was kept at bay by a series of large arching windows but the row of glass ended with a small door.  Its frame had been made to mirror the windows, arching elegantly with such height that Fox was certain he could fly his Arwing through it if he angled it just right.

            Falco paused in the doorway, glancing back at the vulpine over his shoulder.  A crown of constellations twinkled behind him.  Fox could feel himself fall deeper in love.  It was a plunge he did not shy away from in moments like these.  Wholesome moments that came by so rarely—their mercenary life did not allow much time for scenic moments together.  It seemed like every time they tried to even get away for a while, it was thwarted by the inevitable distress signal.  Maybe tonight would be the night with no interruptions.
            “You comin’?”

            “Yeah… yeah.”

            Falco stepped out onto the balcony. Fox followed him into the brisk night air. White railings had been carved from stone, but to the left, there were a set of stairs trailing into the gardens below. Each breath felt a new sense of revitalization that the banquet hall did not offer. A gentle wind caressed over the top of his creamy fringe.  It tickled Falco’s plumage too, making his azure feathers ripple.  After a cautionary look towards the party-goers through the window, the avian took his boyfriend’s hand and the two descended the stairs together with hushed, giddy giggles. 

            The sound of the orchestra soon became muffled but Fox could hear enough of it to distinguish the main melody.  Down the stairs was a small midway section near a lively tree filled with white blossoming flowers.  Another set of stairs greeted them abruptly and they descended those as well.  A white stone path soon opened up for them, carved in angular, blocklike paths around a bustling garden.  Fountains sprung forth from pools scattered across as far as the eye could see, crystalline water illuminated a lively bright turquoise by submerged lights.  Some of the fountains were simplistic in nature, carved so that the water would spring forth in a dome shower around the stone.  Others depicted people.  A statue of two Cornerians stood on a platform sitting in the middle of the central pond, the edge of the platform depicting fish that would spew water from their mouths.  A few coins had been tossed in for luck and wishes. 

            Fireflies hovered about the gardens, providing additional light to the ethereal glow of the pools.  A large stretch of sidewalk sat nestled among the bushes and flowered trees, their branches arching over them like makeshift walls.  The open window at the banquet hall above let out enough sound to keep tempo.  Falco stopped and looked back at Fox.

            The vulpine was not sure if he believed in magic.  Some people claimed there were practitioners of the ancient arts on the edges of the Lylat System—the Outreach Ring, they called it.  His father had even known such a person.  But magic… that seemed like something unreal.  Something impossible.

            That scene before him, though, in a garden surrounded by the aroma of flowers and water.  That was magic.  Each second that passed by as Falco took his hands into his was a second that Fox cherished.  A second he wished he could cling onto for just a bit longer.  The music changed from an outgoing waltz that appealed to the old veteran crowd to a slower, languid tune, heavy on the violin. 

            Falco’s right arm snaked around Fox’s waist, pulling him in so gradually that before he knew it, their chests were pressed into each other.  The fingers of Fox’s right hand intertwined with Falco’s free hand.  Fox moved his other hand to Falco’s shoulder, gently cupping it with his palm.  The avian began to sway and Fox let him dictate their tempo.  They swayed like a pendulum for a few moments and then Falco took a step, branching out from the spot they had been rooted to.  It nearly took Fox by surprise but he mirrored the action as quickly as he could.  Falco smiled at him knowingly but gave an approving nod. 

            Their movements were jarring at first—Falco led and Fox did his best to keep up.  A step, another, back to where they had been before.  Another step, a swaying of the torsos, and then back to where they had been before.  Was it his imagination or was Falco’s face getting closer?  A sway.  A step.  Fox’s left hand had slowly crawled up Falco’s shoulder to his neck and then to his face.  He caressed the avian’s cheek with his thumb.  The melody had evolved into something more grand feeling than their amateur swaying and stepping.  Fox blinked and before he knew it, Falco was dipping him low and Fox’s emerald eyes widened as the avian pulled him back upright.  Their faces were closer now, breath intermingling. Falco leaned in for a moment, his beak parting… only to pull away, brows arched and corner of his mouth upturned in a devilish smirk.

            What a tease.

            They swayed, making a circle with their movements.  It was a gradual spin across the gardens, their feet working in tandem with the orchestra’s romantic tune.  It was not long before Fox could feel what Falco was doing moments before the avian did it.  Their movements synced up and soon enough, Fox could busy himself not with what his body was doing but with how Falco looked.

            Each and every day since the moment they had met, the avian surprised him.  First with his skill given his unorthodox training methods and then with his aspirations.  Under the stars, Falco looked regal.  It made Fox inwardly pause to think about how far they had come.  When he had offered the fourth pilot spot to Falco, it had been purely out of a need for a skilled pilot.  Fox had not planned to become friends… or even anything more than that.  But somewhere in the Lylat Wars, everything had changed.  They had gone from barely acquaintances to… this in the recent years.  It felt like a whirlwind sometimes.  It felt like everything before the Lylat Wars had been… a different life.  A different person.  A different Fox McCloud.

            And now they were here.  Dancing under the stars.  It was dreamy and the path here sometimes made no sense at all… but it felt right.  Every painstaking moment before had led to this breathtaking night and Fox forgot what it felt like to feel the weight of everything before.  He danced, feeling lighter than ever, as if the universe was just that nighttime garden and everything within. 

            Falco’s forehead touched his.  Fox squeezed his hand.  They shifted from their energetic dance to a slower one.  Fox’s arms wrapped around Falco’s neck.  The avian’s hands found their way to Fox’s waist.  Their swaying went back to how it was before—a gentle rocking, their eyes losing themselves in each other.  Falco’s face drifted closer again but this time, Fox would not let him pull away.  He pressed his mouth into Falco’s beak.  When they touched, Fox felt a pleasured shiver shoot down his spine, coupled with what felt like fireworks across his body.  His nerves tingled as he pulled back, looking up at Falco with a satisfied smile.  Falco was trying to suppress his own grin but failed.  It broke through but was quickly stifled by another passionate kiss. This one was longer than the first, Fox’s tongue snaking out to greet Falco’s.

            Their kissing was gentle.  Beak and muzzles were difficult to work around but they did their best—passion always overthrew how incompatible they seemed to be biologically.  They kissed and soon, they were not dancing at all.  Falco’s hands slid underneath Fox’s jawline, guiding his face as they made out.  Fox’s eyes closed, his fingers trailing across the back of Falco’s head.  His fingertips savored the softness of each feather.

            I love you.

            All good things came to an end and so did their soft kissing.  Falco’s eyes glittered with that vagabond-like deviousness he was famous for.  Fox was not sure what was crossing his mind but he had a feeling it was something he probably should decline.

            “Wanna get outta here?” Falco asked.

            “What?” Fox’s ears perked.

            “They wouldn’t notice,” Falco said, gaze darting momentarily to the banquet hall above.

            “Peppy would,” Fox protested but could feel himself being torn into two.  A night out in the city was all he could ask for—especially with his boyfriend.  No stuffy dancefloors, no politics, no brave faces. 

            “Eh, if he texts us, I’ll say we went to see the gardens,” Falco replied with one of his carefree shrugs.

            “Hmm,” Fox said thoughtfully. “And what if he comes to look for us?”

            “Well, let’s not go far, then,” Falco winked. “Besides, I’m sure we’ll need to make another appearance before the night’s done.  We were already there for an hour.  Let’s enjoy some us time.”

            “I guess that wouldn’t be so bad,” Fox smiled.

            Falco pulled away from him, grinning.  Their fingers intertwined and Fox cast an uncertain look up towards the banquet hall.  Though it seemed devilish and wrong to leave Peppy and Slippy to mingle with the social elite, he could not deny Falco a night in Corneria City.  He silently thanked his wingmates for their sacrifices and, quite giddily, trailed after his boyfriend towards one of the side gates that he was quite certain they were not supposed to pass through.  Twin hedges stood nearby—one had been trimmed to look like a moon and the other had been fashioned in the shape of a sun.  Falco glanced both ways before he opened the gate’s hatch, looking as suspicious as can be.

            Down a small alleyway, they quickly found freedom in the bustling streets.  Though Fox was certain their upper class attire was sure to mark them distinctly from the crowd, he realized they were in the richer part of the city.  Everyone around was sporting fancy attire, some even swinging about canes he was sure they only had for a dapper aesthetic. 

            “I should get me one of those,” Falco whispered about one particularly tacky one with a giant diamond planted on its top.

            “To what?  Club me with when I sass you?” Fox whispered back.

            “Hmm… I can think of a few places where I could stick that,” Falco teased back and Fox’s cheeks flushed under his tawny fur.

            “You’re awful,” Fox elbowed him playfully as they walked and Falco could not contain a gleeful, devious cackle.

            “I’m perfect for ya, then,” Falco winked.

            Down the street from the banquet hall were a few fine dining places but Fox was still full from the hors d’oeurves he had munched on at the party.  Jazzy piano music emanated from the nearest door and after a glance through the large glass window, Fox could see the place was mostly packed with people in dresses and suits.  Further down the street was a small courtyard, each tree around it decorated in white lights that twinkled like stars.  The path forked there—to the left, Fox knew there was shopping but for clothes that were way outside of his budget.  To the right were more restaurants.  Fox had walked these streets a few times, back when he had been in the Academy and had been permitted to leave campus. 

            “Where to?” Falco asked.

            “Anywhere we want,” Fox replied.

            “Wanna look at clothes we’re too poor to buy?” Falco suggested.

            Fox snorted with a laugh. “Why’d we do that?”

            “Because I know you’re dying to see me in one of those floral suits.”

Falco pointed across the street, at a store that was selling menswear.  A few uncanny headless mannequins stood in the window, each sporting a different vivid print of floral suit. One was a soft pastel pink with blue flowers.  Another was black with sanguine roses all over it.  A third was white with blue flowers on it.  Fox was almost certain each one cost at least double of the one he was wearing.

            “Oh yeah?” Fox quirked a brow, not entirely opposed to the idea.

            “We could get matching ones,” Falco suggested with one of his typical smirks.

            “You’re ridiculous.”

            The vulpine paused for thought but then relented.

            “Okay but we’re not actually buying them.”

            “Heh, whatever you say,” Falco winked. 

            As the avian strode into the store, Fox felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.  He pulled it out, glancing down for a moment.  It was Peppy.  A simple message sat in his notifications.

‘Where are you?’

            Already? Fox inwardly whined.  He thought about opening the message and answering but Falco’s impatient look made him think twice.  The vulpine gave a shrug, pocketing the phone and leaving the message unread.  It felt like a cardinal sin to not reply but he shook off his guilt the moment he followed Falco into the store.  Responsibilities, time management, keeping up a brave face—all of those things wore him down.  Having a night to breathe and to be himself felt liberating.  It felt rebellious.  It felt…

            “What’s up?” Falco asked.

            “Nothin’,” Fox replied with a smile. His voice dropped and he whispered to his boyfriend, “Let’s put you in that mint one over there.”

            … Right.  It just felt right.