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They spent most of the rest of the day in bed. They spoke a little, but Link felt wrung dry inside and out, his responses to Ravio’s questions slow. He drifted for a good long while with his head in Ravio’s lap and hands stroking over his hair and shoulders. When they both grew tired of the bed he tried to help make dinner and wound up mostly leaning against the kitchen workbench, handing Ravio what he asked for.

Link woke the next morning still exhausted. He grimaced into the pillows, reluctant to move. But Ravio was already up. Familiar morning sounds drifted to Link’s corner, Ravio getting ready for the day, and the amount of light in the room said he’d slept long enough.

Yesterday’s overtaxed muscles sprang to life the moment he sat up. He grunted, swung his feet over the side of the bed and sat there a long moment, blinking in the too-bright light. Ravio had all the shutters open, letting in the crisp air of what promised to be a cool, clear day.

Everything, absolutely everything between his legs ached.

“Good morning!”

Link accepted the too-chipper kiss to his forehead. Then he wrapped his arms around Ravio’s waist and hung on, head against Ravio’s stomach. It earned a chuckle, soothing fingers in his hair. His eyes started to drift shut.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Mmph.”

“Sore?”

“Mm-hm.”

The gentle scratching over his scalp stopped, turned to a brisk pat. “Don’t go back to sleep, now. I have business at the castle today, I shouldn’t get back in bed.”

With no little reluctance, Link let go. Ravio didn’t move, though. Link looked up to meet a keen-eyed, direct stare.

“No irritated skin down there?”

Link flushed.

“‘S too early, Rav,” he groaned.

“Is there?” Ravio insisted.

More than a little cross at being badgered first thing, Link spread his legs and snapped, “What, you want to check?”

It probably shouldn’t have surprised him that Ravio dropped to his knees to do just that, putting himself a little to the side and pushing Link’s legs further open to let the bright morning light fall on his privates.

“Farore’s sake.” Link buried his face in his hands, feeling his cheeks flush red.

“No broken skin.” The relief riding that statement sounded honest. Link peeked down, fingers still pressed against his face. “I didn’t think there was, but it was a little bit dim in here yesterday. It looks like there was some chafing, though. Do you want something for that?”

Link earned these aches, Nayru bless it. “No. No potion.”

Ravio searched his face, looking torn.

It probably wasn’t just Link’s physical state that had him reluctant to leave.

“Ravio. I’m fine. You don’t need to skip your business for my sake.”

It took Link getting up, dressed, and fed before Ravio seemed convinced enough of Link’s wellbeing to head out.

For a long moment he debated not wearing his shorts at all, before deciding the constant brush of his skirt sliding over skin would be worse. Ravio saw his hesitation and bullied him into using a cream on the few spots that still looked a bit red. Then tea when Link rubbed at his aching forehead, which Link appreciated more than the cream.

But finally, the front door closed. Ravio scurried off towards the castle.

House to himself, Link paced.

Around and around, sunbeams slowly shifting across the floor as his feet mimicked the circular pattern playing out in his mind.

A year. A whole year.

He couldn’t get Marin out of his head.

Maybe it was an unfair comparison. She and Ravio were very different people. It seemed like he should feel at least a little guilty, rolling out of bed still sore and exhausted from Ravio’s attention the day before but unable to stop thinking about her.

And yet.

Time moved strangely in dreams. The inside didn’t match the outside. Piecing it together after, he’d determined he’d only been drifting on the wreckage of his ship for a day or two before he was found.

But living inside? It felt like something closer to several months, maybe almost a year.

He’d been so, so ready to marry Marin. She made him feel not just like he could keep getting up in the morning, but like it might actually be worth the effort to do so. Like someone who’d have his back, not just in the sense of a safe place to sleep or food in his belly or a ride if he needed it, but… emotionally. Someone to talk to, who’d share pieces of themselves in turn.

Ravio made him feel the same way.

Pacing feet passed through a sunbeam’s path. Warmth flitted across the bare skin of his legs and fell back to cool when he kept going without pause, ignoring the flirting lure of the outdoors.

Wanting to marry Marin so quickly had been selfish. He’d been ready to do it with some vague notion of finding a way to send a letter home, just enough to let Zelda know he was okay. He’d never intended to step foot back off that island. Maybe it was a lie he told himself, that Hyrule would never have need of him again, that no one would miss him enough to matter. He hadn’t cared.

This was selfish, too.

He thought, increasingly, that he might not care this time either.

Which led to the next problem.

He’d put off asking Marin, thinking it too soon, and look where that got him. Oh, he’d still been intending to, but he spent time trying to figure out the how of it. How to make sure she too was ready for that level of commitment, how to handle Talon, how to pose the question itself, to make that moment as perfect as possible.

And then… well. After he found out, he just couldn’t. Too swallowed up in the horror of it, frantically trying to find some solution other than the one presented.

The thought of actually asking if Ravio felt the same way made a deep pool of terror split open in his gut. What if he said no?

What if he said yes?

Bare feet passed over the rug that hid the trap door to his basement and back to cool wooden floors.

Ultimately, he failed. He never asked her. She knew he loved her, but not that he’d been ready to propose.

He didn’t know if that made it worse or better.

It didn’t help him now.

A year, a year, a year. Time slipping away like sand in an hourglass. Something like panic hooked beneath his breastbone since that revelation, twisting and twisting. Bone deep certainty that good things don’t last. That if it wasn’t now it was never.

He could scarcely envision himself five years from now. Ten seemed impossible.

And yet.

He didn’t want Ravio doubting for even one moment that Link wanted him in his life.

Din take him, selfish or no, yes. Yes, he wanted it. He wanted it badly.

But was that fair to Ravio? Did Ravio want that, too? How could he possibly ask that?

Sunlight, shadow. Warm, cool. Hard floor, rug. Around and around. The ache of chafed skin and burning soreness faded and disappeared as his muscles warmed. He wanted it back, the physical manifestation of the shrieking chaos inside his head.

Ravio wouldn’t leave him on purpose. He’d shown it in enough ways. Link would tell the seething knot of pain in the depths of his soul that it was true until his heart accepted what his mind already knew.

But would he want that final step? To tie himself so publicly to someone so broken?

The level to which Link found himself hoping the answer was yes made his stomach claw upwards towards his throat. That way lay only the devastation of losing what was most important all over again.

The guilt, the regret of Marin never knowing reared up again. Even if they never would have been able to follow through, at least she’d have known it was something he wanted.

Ravio deserved to know it was something he wanted. But what if that knowledge itself ruined everything? What if that proved a step too far, if assuaging this regret became the thing that drove Ravio away?

Link fisted his hands in his hair, whirled on the spot, and, snarling, slammed the side of his fist against the wall.

He wished, with a kind of bitter, resigned desperation, that he still had his uncle around to go to for advice. The thought of asking anyone else for help about this made him shrivel up inside, battling against some cowardly part of himself.

But after a long moment of staring down at his feet with the side of his arm braced against the wall, he snorted at himself. Shoving his hands into his hair, he curled them into fists and made himself think about it.

He did have… other people. Not Zelda. Not for this. Or the blacksmith. Granny Syrup… he wasn’t actually sure if she’d ever married, but he got the impression from Irene they had plenty of people with marital questions as customers. Still… no.

But Granny Syrup did remind him of another possibility. And, yes. Yes. Fuck it. There was no one better. They’d do.

Before he could lose his nerve, he yanked on boots and cloak and strapped on his uncle’s old blade, the one he’d been carrying around since putting the Master Sword back in her resting place. Marching out the door before he could change his mind, Link turned his feet toward visiting some very old friends.

-

Auru and Errol crafted and repaired the weapons of every knight in the employ of Hyrule Castle for years. They’d been the ones to temper the Master Sword during that first fraught adventure when Link was twelve. They moved out of the forge when they retired, making room for the family of the man who took the job over, and now lived in a small house just south of Kakariko.

Link never asked where they were from originally and they never offered the information, but they weren’t Hylian. Barely standing chest height on even his less than towering stature, they had short legs, round bellies, and both callouses and old burns all over their sturdy hands. Wrinkled skin and bushy white beards said they were far from young. They’d been married for as long as Link had known them.

“Can you do anything with it?” He asked Errol, who had his excuse for visiting in hand. Errol examined his uncle’s old blade closely before nodding.

“Don’t have many tools any more, but we can liven it up for you. Won’t be as nice as what we did with the other one.” Eyes as deep and glittering as the night sky peered up at him, all too sharp. “That was a fine blade. Saw you took it up again. Where is it?”

Never one for beating around the bush, was Errol.

“I put it back,” Link grunted. “I’m done with all that.”

Maybe if he said it enough times it would be true.

Errol grunted right back at him, nodding a little as if to say fair enough.

“This is a solid sword. Holds an edge, even if it isn’t magic. It served Alphon well, shouldn’t take much to give it a little something extra.” Link bristled defensively a little further with every word. Errol only spoke this much if he was building up to something. And sure enough: “Any reason you can’t do it yourself? What happened to that apprenticeship?”

Link grimaced, biting his tongue to keep from snapping. None of their business, but pissing off Errol would not be a good start to the conversation he actually wanted to have. He swept his bangs out of his eyes, glancing to the side to get away from Errol’s gaze only to meet Auru’s.

“You don’t need an excuse to come visit, Link,” Auru gave Link the out he’d been hoping for, ever kind. And also just as keen as his husband, as evidenced when he stroked his hand over his beard and leaned forward to add, “Now. What’s this really about?”

Link would rather be facing down the looming, cavernous dark of a dungeon entrance than say why he was really here. He scraped his tongue over his teeth, certain this had been a mistake, equally certain that if he walked back out now he’d go right back to that awful spiral.

Auru saw it. “Come sit down,” he decided. “We’ve water on for tea, come have some.”

Errol looked a little mutinous at Link dodging the question of the apprenticeship, but Auru kicked his shins until he caved.

They’d built everything in the house to their height, including the table, but they kept one Hylian-sized chair for guests. Somewhat reluctantly, Link sank into it, accepting tea when it was handed to him. It gave him something to do with his hands, something to look at so he didn’t have to meet their eyes when they pulled up chairs of their own and fixed him with expectant gazes: one piercing, one encouraging. Link’s uncomfortable shifting was only in part due to lingering soreness.

He’d come this far. His courage couldn’t fail him now. He wouldn’t let it.

“You two are married,” he started, unsure. He grimaced, embarrassed at the obvious statement, only to feel relief at the twin nods.

Auru’s beard bushed up further around his smile. It was obvious they knew where his question was headed, now; Errol harrumphed, relaxing back into his chair. Auru patted the back of his husband’s hand. Link watched Errol roll his wrist to meet him, their broad, calloused old fingers entwining with the thoughtless ease of many years.

Auru leaned forward, a sparkle in his eye. “We are, yes.”

“How did you know? That you both wanted to, uh. Make it long term?”

“Well. It just seemed the obvious step, after a time.”

“I couldn’t get rid of him,” Errol tossed out. Auru harrumphed this time, tweaking his husband’s beard, still smiling. The entire interaction had the air of an old, affectionate argument.

“I take it you have someone? When do we get to meet him?” Auru sat well forward in his chair, now, chattering happily. “It must be serious if you’re thinking of proposing! What a catch he’s got, too! A handsome, capable young man such as yourself!”

Hearing the word propose said so plainly made Link flinch, the following compliments only souring him further. His heart lurched. He dropped his eyes to his hands, holding his mug of tea on his lap since the table they sat around was too low to lean on comfortably.

Capable, hah. Maybe with a sword. With cutting words. But what kind of capable was he that the one he loved had to ask for gentleness with all the caution of a friendly hand approaching a feral, hissing stray?

Maybe it was the muscle memory of a hundred tea times with Zelda, both of them speaking their minds without reservation. Maybe it was how long he’d known them, or the ache for an uncle long gone. Whatever it was, he forgot himself just long enough.

“He deserves better than my messed up bullshit.”

He flinched even as he said it, hunching further over the mug in his hands. Old but sturdy, just like the inhabitants of the home around it.

“Deserving has nothing to do with it, young man. Love isn’t something you earn.” Errol’s aging voice whipped out, cracking and sharp. Link jerked to face him. That’s not who he’d expected to respond.

Coming here was a mistake. Back rigid, Link rose halfway out of his chair with an excuse on his lips before he realized he was moving.

Auru tweaked his husband’s beard again, hard enough to make Errol curse and slap at his hands.

“Go easy on him, he’s young.” He patted the table in invitation, once again fixing Link with a kind, expectant look.

Link scowled, but he settled back into his chair. He didn’t feel young, not with how long he’d been doing what he did. But he couldn’t say that and come to them for advice like he was, so he brushed aside the momentary irritation and clutched his mug like a shield against Auru’s earnest eyes.

“Life is full of difficulty. You never know how long you have, yes? Yes, you know that better than I wish you did. So when you find something good, isn’t it worth holding onto?”

“No one ever deserves this.” Errol apparently wasn’t done driving that point home. “You wake up and choose, every day, over and over, that this is the one you want, and they do the same.”

“I don’t know how to make sure he feels the same.” Excuses, and he hated himself all the more for it, but the terror of that possible no was more paralyzing than almost anything else in recent memory.

“Don’t you do him the disservice of making that decision for him,” Errol barked.

Link blinked, again caught off guard. Something like realization started to unfurl in his chest, a shadowed vine reaching for light.

“You have to ask. You have to talk.” Errol seemed to be building up a good head of steam, but subsided again when Auru patted his hand, much to Link’s relief. He grumbled to himself and took a deep swig of his tea, eyeing it in disgust after. Link got the distinct impression he wished it were something stronger.

“Come now, surely your special someone must do something to make you think the feeling is reciprocated if you’re thinking of asking him to marry you. Romantic gestures? Talks of the future together? Sharing little secrets?”

“There has to be more than good sex,” Errol interjected, dry as dust.

“But that can help! If you two are that kind of—ah, yes. I see you are.”

Link’s cheeks reddened at Auru’s list. He tried to hide the blush behind a sip of tea only to choke on his drink at Errol’s comment and Auru’s agreement with it. “Fuck,” he sputtered, laughing despite himself. Just like that some of the tension eased. A quick pass of his sleeve swiped tea off of his chin.

“Come come! What does he do?” Auru wiggled in his seat, clearly pleased.

Link forced himself to think about it. Beyond the sex, which, yes, they did quite a lot of. The soreness in his backside, mostly forgotten, chose that moment to twang as if in agreement.

“He… buys things.” Not just sex things. There’d been that fancy dinner, early on. A few more picnics in the orchard before the weather turned too cold. And he was always bringing home wine to share.

“Mostly food,” Link realized.

He got touchy about Link using anything from the long-term food stores he’d been steadily amassing over the past year. (Which they really did need to start rotating through soon; even food under stasis spells didn’t last forever, and most of what Ravio had been accumulating was only dried or canned, not magically preserved. Link cleared his cellar of bad food after a long time away once, and once was enough.)

But he was happy to share the fresh cheeses and exotic fruits and other things his ‘contacts’ sent him, always seemed delighted to discover some new dish that Lorule didn’t have.

Even Hilda gave him food.

Shit, Link felt like an idiot.

“Go on,” Auru pulled his mind out of the mental tangent.

“We do talk.” More now than they used to. “He took me home to meet all his friends.”

And there was still the matter of that one way portal, as Zelda liked to remind him so often in those early months, just after Ravio followed him through it. Sure, they’d managed to re-open it, but at the time there’d been no guarantee that it wasn't going to be a permanent choice.

Maybe…

…Maybe.

Auru patted the table as if he wanted to do the same to Link’s knee, a wrinkled old smile curling up behind his bushy white beard.

“Well. I haven’t met the young man–”

“And you’d best be fixing that soon.” Errol fixed Link with a steely stare.

“–but it sounds to me like he’s serious.”

“What if he says no?” He knew he kept coming back to that, that it had to be annoying, but he couldn’t seem to help it.

“That’s the risk we all take.” Auru’s smile turned sad. Understanding.

But on this, Errol had yet another strong opinion. “Then he’s a fool. I don’t think you’re the type to fall in love with a fool. Now. You show him you love him the same way he shows you; you buy him flowers, or ore, or gems, or whatever it is–”

“Food.”

“Food, then. You buy him food he likes, and you take him to meet your friends.” A pointed tap against the table to show exactly which friends he meant.

“He’s met Irene! And Zelda!” Which probably just made it worse. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“You take him to meet your friends,” Errol rolled right over him before he could shove his foot any further down his throat, “and you talk. You show him you love him, and then you ask your question.”

Link met his unwavering stare, not sure if he felt comforted or insulted. He chanced a glance at Auru and found a gentle, sunny smile threaded through with equal steel. Auru leaned forward to pat the hand that at some point Link braced against the table.

“It worked on me.”

“It’s kept working on you for the past sixty years, you old coot.”

“Precisely!”

“And whatever way he answers, come back here and let us know, you hear?”

-

Link… didn’t know if he felt any better about the question itself. Didn’t know if he believed them about ‘deserving’ or not. But he had a direction, now. Something solid. A gap he could fill.

Show Ravio, the same way he showed Link.

He didn’t dare risk running into Ravio or Zelda and being questioned on what he was doing, so the castle kitchens were out. But Anju had fresh cheese in from the farms outside town and jars of spiced olives. With that and a bottle of wine in hand, he headed home.

It was nearing evening by the time he got there; he’d spent a good portion of the day catching up with Auru and Errol. He had to work quickly.

First he stoked the dwindling fire. Then, shoving their dining table out of the way, he pulled the rug from the middle of the floor over directly in front of the hearth and spread blankets and pillows from their bed on top of it. The wine and cheese went on a tray along with a handful of spring flowers he’d picked from the side of the road. All ready to bring over when Ravio returned.

Still just a little too cool outside for a picnic or dinner on the back step, watching the sun go down. Sitting in front of the fire instead had seemed like a good idea, but it all felt a little… inadequate. The hearth was so close to the kitchen that the blankets spilled over into that space. The flowers splayed outwards in the drinking glass he’d put them in, its top too wide to hold them upright in any kind of order, but he didn’t have anything better. Link fussed with the arrangement of the pillows, the layout of the cheese and olives on the serving tray, eventually giving up in frustration. Maybe if there were meat, or bread? Too late to go back to the market, but he could cut down what was left of yesterday’s loaf.

Even the small slices of bread seemed clumsy once he had them on the tray. Link glared at them, debating taking them off entirely, when the front door latch clicked. Out of time.

Link turned in time to catch Ravio see the pillows by the fire and go still.

He wondered if Ravio felt this same anxiety when Link came home yesterday, waiting for his reaction to what he had to offer. Ravio always seemed so smooth when he did this, so confident. It was all Link could do to keep the embarrassed wince off of his face.

Then Ravio hustled across the room and kissed him. Hard. Link’s knees went weak with relief. Obviously he’d done something right.

“Oh, Link! You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to. I just. I thought you might appreciate it?”

“It looks lovely!” Ravio confirmed, and seemed to actually mean it. Hood pushed back, his eyes sparkled in the firelight as he took in the nest on the floor. He touched the flowers, examined Link’s selections for their dinner, then turned and kissed Link again, long and deep.

“Thank you,” he breathed when they parted. “It’s wonderful.”

They spoke about inconsequential things, having their light dinner curled up side by side right in front of the fire. Ravio talked about his day, Link mentioned visiting some old friends and that they wanted to meet him.

He paid attention to their conversation, of course, but even now Link’s mind kept circling back.

He managed to hold off saying anything until they’d finished eating, only the dregs of wine left in their glasses. A log snapped in the hearth, the fire casting flickering orange light across where they sat pressed up against each other.

It was romantic. Quiet. A good end to the night.

But Link’s mind just wouldn’t settle.

Don’t ruin it, he thought.

Something in him must have given him away. “What’s wrong?” Ravio asked, his head on Link’s shoulder. “You’re nervous about something.”

He could brush it off. Ravio would know he was lying if he said it was nothing, but he could find some other excuse, try not to ruin their romantic evening.

Or he could take the plunge. Try… just try.

“Am I… doing enough?”

Fuck. That was an awful start. Way to make it all about yourself, Link.

Ravio paused, looked up.

“For you,” Link clarified. “For us. Are you…” He trailed off. Are you happy, being with me?

Why couldn’t he just say it?

Nayru bless, it was that first ‘I love you’ all over again.

Ravio frowned. His glass lowered towards his lap.

Shit, this seemed so much more clear-cut when Auru and Errol were talking about it.

“I don’t mean. I know–” Link stumbled, grimaced. Tripped up over thoughts tangled up in knots, not sure what he was asking, he ground to an embarrassed halt. He couldn’t meet Ravio’s eyes. I don’t know why you stay.

He didn’t want it to seem like he was coercing compliments, but he needed to know.

Still Ravio kept quiet, letting him find the words to speak. Link almost wished he’d cut him off, because he was picking up a good head of steam now but it was in the wrong direction.

“I don’t work, I’m not bringing in income, you manage all your own finances…”

“Link. You’re not exactly poor. You’re not–”

Link puffed up, a little peeved at the implication he was anything like the nobles he so studiously avoided. “I’m not wealthy.”

A hand landed on his cheek, encouraging him to meet Ravio’s eyes. Humor and concern both danced through them.

“Link. My sweet bunnybrain. You receive a stipend from the crown. You have as much money as Zelda cares to give you. That’s a lot, in case you were wondering,” he added helpfully. “You’re not draining any resources I don’t want to spend.” He tensed up, looking a bit discomforted. “Did you want to join finances? Is that what you’re asking?”

Link grimaced.

“No, that’s not– you have your business expenses, and I have…”

The house, owned by his uncle and now fully his. The orchard, which might take a few years to recover fully but should eventually produce well enough to at least put something into Link’s wallet. A regular allowance from the crown, ever since he’d come back after traveling abroad, for ‘extraordinary services rendered,’ that he’d been in no condition to refuse.

“I have mine,” he finished lamely. “It doesn’t make sense to complicate that when how we’re doing it works. Unless you want to?”

The stiff muscles of Ravio’s waist beneath Link’s arm relaxed at this declaration. “No,” he said, a little quiet, a little cautious. “I’m happy keeping that as it is.”

Link nodded, satisfied with this agreement. Then he shook his head, trying to get back on track. “But that’s not the point. We both take care of food, we both clean.”

“Exactly. Both of us, working together.”

Ravio still seemed a little confused about what Link was asking. Which was fair, because not even Link knew exactly what he was asking anymore. He tried anyway.

“But we… we don’t both work. You’re the one who wound up with a job. Two of them; I know you’re still doing some kind of trade business along with the stuff for Hilda. You wanted to retire.”

“Ah.” Ravio sharpened. Link surrendered his wine so Ravio could put them both on the tray and push it out of the way. He pulled and Link, as ever, followed, rising up just enough to swing a leg around and straddle his lap. Soft pressure encircled his waist. Warm light picked out the constellation of freckles on Ravio’s face.

The shiver that worked its way up from Link’s toes had nothing to do with temperature and everything to do with the full, aching feeling that welled up at the soft, careful expression looking back at him.

“You don’t have to work another day in your life, except what would help you be happy. Not for me.” Those brilliant green eyes flicked back and forth, searching his face. “The fact that I haven’t retired has much more to do with Hilda and my own needs than you, Link. I think we both know that I’d be a nervous wreck with nothing to do.” He leaned in, pressing a quick, soft kiss to Link’s lips. “I do appreciate that it still affords me plenty of time to spend tormenting you.”

His eyes glittered. The hand around Link’s waist started wandering, drifting southward.

Link couldn’t help rising to the challenge, wrapping his arms around Ravio in turn, leaning in. Coward, he thought at himself, and brushed it aside. If Ravio wanted to bring their romantic evening back around to sex, Link wasn’t about to stop him. “Yeah?”

A confirming sound hummed out of Ravio’s throat. He tipped his mouth towards Link’s neck, and Link turned his head to let him.

No teeth. Barely even a kiss. Ravio inhaled, thumbs sweeping thoughtfully along Link’s waist.

“You don’t have to prove yourself to me, Link. You’ve already done that ten times over. Just keep being mine.”

Mine.

Something about that one word was more reassuring than anything else Ravio could have said. The disquiet that had been churning in Link’s chest all day settled.

“I do appreciate the romantic dinner, though.”

“Good.” Link chewed on his lip, blurted, “I love you.”

It got a little easier to say, every time.

The look Ravio gave Link then was full of something Link didn’t think he’d ever seen on him before, gentle and soft and almost pained, a perfect match for the longing ache that filled Link’s chest and tried to spill over into the rest of him. His forehead came to rest against Link’s.

“I love you too. I’m never giving you up.”

Any response Link might have made was swallowed up in Ravio’s mouth covering his.

Rolling him down into the blankets and pillows, Ravio laid out on top of him and kissed him, thorough and deep, there in front of the fire.

“Aren’t you still sore?” he asked against Link’s lips once they were both disheveled and panting, as if he hadn’t been grinding down against Link moments before.

Link snorted. “Went for a walk, that helped. Haven’t felt a fucking thing since this afternoon,” he answered with near-complete honesty. A bit of stiffness started back up from sitting on the floor, despite the cushion of the rug and blankets, but the soreness lingering elsewhere wouldn’t have stopped him on any other day. He wasn’t about to let it slow him now.

“Well! All my hard work, gone so quick. I’ll just have to give you a fresh reminder.” Ravio lifted himself away, kissing Link as he went. “Get undressed,” he whispered, voice full of promise.

Link shucked out of his clothes while Ravio crossed to his dresser, tossing them aside with little finesse. The leftovers from dinner he treated with more care, placing the tray further out of reach. He was just adding a few more logs to the fire from the pile at the side of the hearth when Ravio came back, also now bare. Two soft black strips of silky fabric and a single bottle of oil dangled from his fingers. He pulled Link right back down right where they’d been.

One tie for his wrists, in front of him, string of bells just under it without question or comment. The other for his eyes. Link exhaled as the knot tightened at the back of his head, listening to the warm crackle of the fire, feeling Ravio’s skin under his cheek and his fingers threading through the hair at the nape of his neck. Ravio held Link to himself in silence for a long moment, hands running over Link’s head and shoulders, until Link, impatient, turned to mouth at his skin. Fumbling blindly until he found Ravio’s leg, he followed it up. Ravio caught him before he could reach his prize.

“Always so impatient,” he scolded, tone light. Link felt him moving, lifting Link’s hands until his hair brushed Link’s wrists and his lips met Link’s fingers. He put one into his mouth, sucking at it, biting down gently. Link shivered.

“Shit,” he whispered.

Warmth cast over Link’s back, fire crackling and popping. He leaned towards the body at his front, curling in until his head found Ravio’s shoulder. Still Ravio touched him nowhere but his hands, biting and nibbling and sucking until each finger had its turn enveloped in the warmth of his mouth and released again to cool in the air. The thorough attention continued until Link squirmed, legs rubbing over each other, against Ravio kneeling over him, taking his time on the last one.

“Fuck,” he gasped at Ravio’s tongue curling up around his pinky, sliding along his skin. Teeth replaced it, biting down hard enough to make him whine. Ravio worried the digit back and forth between his teeth, letting the skin roll as his jaw slid one way then the other, not easing up on the pressure until Link gasped again, couldn’t help but kick out blindly. His heel dug into the blankets.

“Shhhh.” A smile pressed to his palm. Link made a wordless, guttural noise. Thumbs moved to the inside of his wrists, just above the tie, rubbing soothing motions. Link shuddered, trying to get himself back under control. Gasping breaths turned to a long, shaky exhale.

“Fuck,” he whispered again, shivering despite the fire-warm air.

“That’s the idea,” Ravio agreed.

Link snorted, chuckling once despite himself. “That’s a shitty joke.”

“Mmm. Still made you laugh.” Ravio sounded immeasurably pleased with himself. A thumb swept along the blindfold. Link stilled when it came to rest over his eye, pressing lightly. Ravio hummed, pleased. Link sighed again when he moved on, following the blindfold to Link’s ear and out to tweak the tip.

“No gag?” he couldn’t help prod, twitching away from the light pinch with a hiss.

“I want to hear you cursing.”

Ravio twisted.

“Fuck!” Link shouted, jerking at the sudden sharp pain. Ravio still had his bound wrists in one hand, following when Link tried to yank his head away. He jerked his legs in, curling into a ball in effort not to kick. Heels dug into the floor, pressing, trying to move away.

Ravio released him.

“Farore’s dripping pussy, goddesses take it,” Link gasped, rubbing his stinging ear against his shoulder. Ravio laughed again, long and loud. He pulled Link to himself. Link twisted against him, sullen, ear throbbing, Ravio’s chest jumping beneath his cheek in time to the self-satisfied chortling.

“I still don’t understand why you like that,” Link complained once Ravio got himself under control. “The cussing,” he clarified. “Not the… the other thing.” He usually got the impression that most tolerated but certainly did not appreciate it.

“It’s your very honest opinion! I like hearing you express yourself. Especially when you get creative. It tells me I’m doing this right. Now hold on, just one moment…”

Ravio moved away, leaving cool air where before there’d been warm skin. Link heard the soft whoosh of moving fabric, felt the displaced air of their little love nest being rearranged. Once Ravio had things to his liking, he helped Link lay down, draped over the pillows on his front with his bound wrists resting on the floor above his head.

Ravio’s weight settled overtop of him again, his bare groin nestled against the cleft of Link’s ass. Link couldn’t help rolling his hips back into him, earning himself a hum.

A log on the fire snapped, more loudly than the background crackle. Link caught a whiff of the dregs of the wine in the bottom of their glasses, stashed nearby. His hands spilled over the edge of the blankets and rug alike, cool floorboards under his fingers. He shifted his legs open wider and a muscle twinged, so long sitting on the hard floor making yesterday’s strain sing back to life. The silky ties pressed against his wrists, the blindfold firm pressure over the bridge of his nose and the back of his head. The soft pillows beneath his chest and head and hips offered cushion and support.

He had time to notice it all, because for one aggravatingly long moment Ravio simply lay on top of him, groin pressed to Link’s ass and his soft sighs wafting over Link’s face.

As always, Link broke first. “I can feel you looking.”

The barest breath of a chuckle, felt more than heard.

“You know I like looking, Mister Hero.” His hand pressed between Link’s neck and the pillow, pulling Link’s head up into Ravio’s shoulder with firm pressure under his jaw.

The first bite closed on the crook of his neck. Link twitched and hissed at the sting. Teeth worked that one spot until he squirmed, worrying away at it with all the tenacity of a dog with a bone. A warm tongue swiped over what was no doubt a deep, fresh bruise once Ravio was done. Link shuddered, shoulders easing.

Then Ravio’s thumb pressed directly, firmly into the fresh mark.

“Bastard!” Link gasped. His arms and legs worked, shoving at the floor, the blankets. He ducked his head, hands folding up to try and fend Ravio off only to have them caught. The bells chimed.

“My brother told me our parents were happily married,” Ravio retorted. “Of course, he might have been lying, but I could usually tell when he was trying to pull something over on me.”

He folded Link’s arms further down, holding them in place against the back of Link’s own neck. Link felt him moving, shifting further down, just that one hand to pin Link in place. The other trailed down the line of Link’s spine. Link panted into the pillows, eyes squeezed shut beneath the firm pressure of the blindfold.

The wine and the fire both warmed him. The pillows supported him. Anticipation curled in his stomach, Ravio’s hovering over him doing nothing more than make it twist pleasantly tighter.

Safe. What they’d built here felt safe.

The next bite landed at the base of his ass. It stung. Sang out with a pain sharp and high and bright and Link jumped, startled, jerking against the hands that held him down.

“Farore on a fucking fire roasted pig sticker!”

Ravio let go to burst out laughing.

“Fuck!” Link exclaimed for good measure, feeling Ravio curl over him. Hair brushed ticklishly over his ass, Ravio finally burying his face at the base of Link’s spine as he laughed and laughed and laughed.

“Shit that stung.” Link swore over the giggling, staring into the flickering shadows at the back of the blindfold, a shuddering sort of humor bubbling up in his chest as well.

Ravio finally got himself enough under control to pull away and coo. “A little too much for my sweet little bunny?”

“I’m not your sweet anything, it just startled me.”

“I beg to differ!” Ravio stroked over the spot he’d bitten. Not too hard, this time, just a light feathering touch that pulled another minute shiver out of the skin it passed over. Then down between Link’s legs with just the right amount of firm pressure against that spot behind his balls to make Link hiss and spread them wider. “This lovely evening you set up for us was very sweet. I have to show my appreciation!”

Appreciation, apparently, came in the form of his teeth.

Biting deep this time, he latched onto the meat of Link’s ass on the other side. Link grunted at the deep pain, trembling, exhaling long and slow when Ravio again took his time to let go. A wordless, wavering noise mewled into the pillows.

By the time Ravio let up, Link was certain that spot would ache for days.

Ravio patted his hands, letting go and moving lower. Link left them where they were. His curled arms gave him somewhere to hide, squeezing them down around his own head when the next sharp sting bloomed on the soft skin of his upper thigh.

All the soreness from yesterday’s activities continued singing back to life, Ravio targeting the spots that ached the most when Link first got out of bed this morning. His hand kept working between Link’s legs even as his teeth roved over skin, teasing soft touches and firm pressure in alternating waves.

Link’s breath hitched when a slick finger played over the outside of his entrance. He lowered his hands back to the floor, turned his head despite the continued pressure of the blindfold.

“Oh?” Ravio purred. “Are you ready for this?” His finger worked minute, teasing little circles, pressing but not curling in.

Link knew better by now than to answer that kind of question, coming from him. He hid his face down into the space between his arms, shoulders hunched. “Shit,” he whimpered.

“I think you are.” The finger curled, breaching him with aching slowness.

Ravio gave him another few bruises, finger working inside all the while with all the tender caution as if it were Link’s first time instead of the latest of too many to count. A mirror to that first bruise in the sensitive spot where ass met thigh capped off the multitude of new marks across his thighs and backside. Link tensed at the latest sharp sting, clenching around the intruding finger before experience took over and he relaxed again, letting it move.

“Good boy,” Ravio breathed against his skin. His finger turned, pressed, seeking. Link grunted when he found his mark, hips twitching against the pillow. The erection grinding into it ached, just a little, more lingering effects from yesterday, but the fresh bruises sang louder.

Link heard him slicking himself up. Pillows shifted and new pressure laid over the back of his legs. The finger pulled out, replaced by the familiar shape of Ravio’s dick.

They both sighed when Ravio slid home inside him.

Ravio seemed determined to toy with Link even now, though. He stopped moving once he was all the way in, only lipping at Link’s neck. Link clenched around him, trying to entice him to move, grunted again at the wave of soreness that followed.

“Patience, Mister Hero!”

“I am being patient,” Link retorted, bucking his hips back in a manner that was not very patient at all.

“Now, now. You were being such a good boy. Behave!”

Link bared his teeth. “Fuck that,” he said, happy to play his roll in their little game.

“Do I need to make you?” The threatening tone hovering right by his ear made Link’s heart flip over in giddy anticipation. His shoulders tensed. He had to reign in his first impulse, to knock his head backwards into Ravio’s, not wanting to cause any actual damage.

Ravio’s hand creeping up under his jaw provided him another option. Link twisted around and did some biting of his own.

He thought he got Ravio’s arm, maybe his shoulder; too much flesh and not enough bone under his teeth to be his hand. Wherever it was, his aim was true; his teeth closed around a good chunk of skin.

Pain sprang to life across his scalp, Ravio yanking him free by the hair.

The next thing Link knew, his face buried forcefully into the pillows.

“Bite me, will you?” Link heard the glee beneath the attempt to be stern, but Ravio’s hands had none of the give lurking in his voice.

Ravio held him down, grinding into him. Link clawed at the floor, searching for something to hold onto. Bright chiming followed the motion, bells trailing merrily across the wood. He twisted his hands, grabbed them and held them but didn’t use them even as his breath grew short, nose and mouth both blocked by fluffy featherdown. He humped desperately against the pillow under his hips, trapped erection swollen and achingly hard. The world spun and his covered vision started to darken to true black and still Ravio taunted him, shoving his hips into Link without giving him anything like true friction.

“I’ll move when I’m good and ready to move, my little hero.”

Ravio hauled his head back up, pulling his face around and forcing a kiss on him while he was still breathless. Link sucked desperate air through his nose, mouth open and pliant for the hard lips that crushed over his. He moaned and whimpered into Ravio’s mouth as soon as he had the breath for it, unselfconscious in his desire.

Ravio pulled back. Link imagined him staring down with the hungry, greedy air that never failed to make his toes curl and his stomach tie itself into knots. Not being able to see it made him whimper again.

“Nothing more to say?” Lips ghosted over his. Ravio’s hips worked, still grinding rather than any kind of thrusting, his weight pinning Link solidly down. It would hardly do Link any good to spread his legs wider but he tried, bruises stabbing their deep ache straight into squealing muscles.

“Well?”

Link scrambled, trying to collect his brain enough to respond.

Fingers invaded his mouth before he could.

The sound Link made was somewhere between a curse and a whine. Ravio chuckled, playing his fingers along Link’s tongue towards the back of his throat until he had to fight not to gag. He pulled back before Link’s body could rebel, pinching his tongue and pulling it out of his mouth. Link made a wavering, uncertain sound.

“This is going to get you into trouble one day.” A finger from Ravio’s other hand curled along his tongue, pressing up the middle back into Link’s mouth. He hummed to himself, letting go, but Link didn’t dare pull his tongue back in or close his jaw until that exploring finger pulled away.

“Fuck you,” Link managed, hoarse.

Ravio shoved his face into the pillows again.

His hips snapped into Link for several rough, sharp thrusts.

“Is this what you want?” he demanded. Just as fast as he’d started, he stopped again. Hauling Link’s head back up, he returned to that slow grind. “What if I want this?”

“Fuck,” Link gasped. “Please.”

“Please? Please what?”

“Don’t care!”

Ravio stilled. “No?”

“Don’t care,” Link repeated with perfect honesty. “As long as it’s you.”

“Oh.” The sound Ravio made then was more of a breath than a word. A soft exhale, a bare puff of air across Link’s face.

He didn’t move for a long, long moment. Long enough for doubt to start to creep into Link’s hazy, punch-drunk mind.

Then he rolled, somehow managing to shift them onto their sides and from there bring them both up to sitting, Link on his lap, back to front, without ever pulling out.

Bewildered at the abrupt motion and disoriented at the world spinning around him, Link twisted head and hands alike, trying to figure out what changed. “What? What’d I–”

“Shhh. You’re fine, Link. We’re fine.”

Light fingers stroked over Link’s throat, down his chest, soothing him back to silence. Ravio picked up his floundering wrists and folded them upwards, holding them in place against Link’s collarbone, the bells still clutched in one of Link’s fists. He rocked upward into Link’s body, back to more of a grind than a thrust, turning Link’s face for another, much gentler kiss.

He fell silent and still for a long, long moment after pulling away. Link pressed his lips together, uncertain.

“What if I just want to pet you for a while?” A slow stroke down Link’s belly in demonstration.

Link shifted, shoulders drawing up. “Fine,” he agreed, a little reluctantly. Not what he’d been hoping for, but… it didn’t burn quite so badly, not like it used to. He’d proven to himself that he could manage it, for Ravio.

Ravio hummed. His hand drifted lower, into the curls between Link’s legs. He took Link’s flagging erection in hand, rolling the tip between his fingers.

“Maybe I want to touch you here, instead. Tease you and then make you wait.” Slow, firm strokes grew still.

Link squirmed. “Just make up your Nayru-blessed mind.”

“What do you want, Link?”

“I told you already.”

“No, Link. What do you want?”

The question had weight. Link turned his head, seeking. This no longer felt like they were just talking about sex. Especially when Ravio’s hand left his dick to stroke over his face instead. It hesitated over the blindfold, starting to shift as if to remove it, but Link pulled his head away before he could.

“Do you mean it? That I’m yours?”

“Always.”

“That,” he whispered, feeling as if the ground were falling away beneath his feet and not caring the slightest bit. “That’s what I want.”

“Good,” Ravio whispered back, just as soft. “Me, too.”

Link reached up, feeling for his face. A smile, achingly soft, pressed against the back of his searching fingers. Ravio kissed his hand.

“The fire’s getting low,” he murmured against Link’s skin.

“Don’t care.”

“We’ll get cold.”

“You’ll just have to keep me warm, then.”

“A challenge from Mister Hero!” Ravio laughed, sounding light as air. “Mmmmm. Accepted. Lean forward.”

Link did, breath catching when Ravio’s hand landed on the back of his neck, following as Link found the floor and lowered himself down. His hands brushed the fire-warmed stone of the hearth.

Ravio leaned over him. Link felt him reaching for something. He grunted, dick flexing inside Link and the muscles pressed against the backs of Link’s thighs tensing. Something passed overtop Link’s head. Coal crunched. The dry sound of ash scattering followed, Ravio dropping a fresh log onto the fire. Link felt him reach for another.

He stared at the back of the blindfold in disbelief.

“What the fuck, Ravio.”

“You said keep us warm!” Ravio exclaimed with faux innocence.

“That’s not what I– golden goddesses shit!” Link squirmed, laughing once loud and sharp at fingers tickling at his sides. He kicked out, trying to twist away.

“Easy! Don’t hit the hearth!” Ravio chuckled as he said it, pulling Link back off of his front, away from the stone. Link didn’t know whether to be pissed or admiring.

“You fucking tease.”

“Don’t you worry. I’m still going to take my time with you.” Instead of sitting or laying them back down, Ravio knelt upright behind him, holding Link’s torso to himself and pulling Link’s legs back wide, knees outside his own. “Hook your feet over my calves.”

The position gave Link no leverage whatsoever. He arched back against Ravio, hanging off his dick, only the solid arm wrapped around him to hold him in place.

The fire warmed his front, Ravio’s body pressed flush with his from shoulders on down. Teeth found their way back to Link’s neck, marking up the other side. Link swore softly, holding onto the arm wrapped across his chest.

Ravio didn’t have the space for any true thrusting either. He took up that slow, deep grind again, hips working little circles against Link’s backside. He reached between Link’s legs to poke and prod and pull: slow, careful torment that soon had Link hissing and twitching against him. The hand on his groin grew harsher, more mean, the closer Ravio got. A sharp tug to Link’s balls sent a shot of pain singing upwards in time with a particularly abrupt snap of hips against his backside.

“Fu-u-u-uck,” Link hissed, drawing the word out into multiple syllables.

Ravio inhaled. His teeth dug in. His fingers found the base of Link’s dick and squeezed, pulling Link back into a few last rapid, sloppy circling motions.

Ravio came before Link was anywhere near close, spilling into him with a soft, content sigh. For one long moment he stopped moving, just holding Link, staying inside as he caught his breath.

Then he lowered back to kneeling with Link on his lap, pinning Link’s hips to his and settling them both down without slipping out.

He made no move to actually help Link finish, grabbing his arms when he tried to do it himself. Link hissed a quiet curse and subsided, doing his best to hold onto his patience, letting Ravio enjoy his afterglow with his softening dick in Link’s ass and his nose buried in the hair at Link’s nape.

When he finally stirred, he pressed his mouth back to Link’s shoulder, silently stroking over the curls between Link’s spread legs. Up his stomach to play over the curves and dips of his belly, then back down, slipping along his erection.

It took Link a long moment to realize he was being admired in the firelight. His cheeks reddened. Ravio’s own legs got in the way when he tried to pull his knees in.

“I suppose I ought to give you a lovely finish to match this lovely evening.” Ravio’s finger swirled around the head of Link’s dick, his tone light. Link grunted in reply, trying not to shift so much in his impatience that Ravio slipped back out of him.

Ravio nosed at his neck, pulling Link’s head down against his shoulder, unseeing eyes aimed towards the ceiling.

“Use your bells if you want out.”

Pure, self satisfied mischief in those words. Link inhaled, sharp.

Ravio didn’t give him time to voice the eager curse about to slip off of his tongue. His hand clamped down over Link’s mouth and chin. Thumb and forefinger squeezed Link’s nose shut. Hard, firm tugs worked him over with little fanfare. Link swallowed a noise, saving his breath, eyes squeezed shut behind the blindfold.

He couldn’t help reaching up towards the arm responsible for making his lungs draw tight, holding on. Arousal flared back to life, meeting and surpassing where he’d been before with screaming swiftness. He started to struggle, just a little, twisting against the unyielding hold over his face. His knees drew up. Tightness settled into his lungs, then an increasing burn, and the pleasure in his groin mounted with it.

He couldn’t quite hold out long enough.

Hands twisting into claws against Ravio’s arm, Link writhed, straining for completion and not quite getting there.

He shook the bells once.

Ravio’s hand loosened, his fist stilling. A loud, dragging inhale filled Link’s lungs with blessed air. His limbs trembled. He exhaled. In again. Twice more, and the thundering of his heart in his ears started to slow.

“Link. That was a pause, not a stop. Do you need me to stop?”

Link made a needy noise. Shook his head the slightest bit, hips jerking into Ravio’s hand.

“Keep going?”

Two taps against his wrist. Link realized a moment too late that might not be the way Ravio wanted him to respond, but Ravio accepted it anyway.

“One more breath.”

Link obeyed.

The fingers squeezed down again.

Orgasm built in a cresting wave.

Even if soft and not moving, Ravio’s dick still held him open, a pleasant stretch. His head pinned to Ravio’s shoulder, tight desperation building in his lungs again, the delicious friction over his dick just this side of too harsh, Link arched in silent, pleasured struggle.

He’d been close. Every nerve sang, every muscle coiling tight.

Link came.

Ravio pumped him through it, not allowing him air until he’d milked every last drop free. The burning in his chest, the hand clamped down over his face, the pressure of ties over his eyes and wrists, all rolled through Link in a tsunami of sensation.

Another loud, desperate noise burst out of him when Ravio released his mouth.

“Easy,” Ravio caught him, wrapped around Link, thumb working soothing motions over his hands. A soft kiss planted on the corner of Link’s gasping mouth.

“Fuck,” Link slurred, tongue clumsy.

“Good?”

“Shit. Yeah. Fuck.”

Ravio’s light chuckle accompanied another, more lingering kiss. He slipped the blindfold up and off, but Link didn’t open his eyes right away, letting his head rest on Ravio’s shoulder. Every muscle felt turned to liquid.

He made a soft noise of protest when Ravio started to do the same to the tie around his wrists.

Ravio paused. Link’s eyes popped open. He started to flush, startled himself.

Ravio didn’t say anything, but he did stop pulling at the tie, folding Link’s arms back up to his chest and wrapping his arm over top of them, holding Link securely back against his chest.

“Thank you,” Ravio murmured. “This was nice.” Soft fingers stroked through Link’s hair.

Link hummed, turning his head to accept another, more direct kiss, still soft as the firelight playing over them.

Ravio pulled up the back edge of the blanket they sat on, tucking it around them as best he could with them sitting on it. The fire started to dim, but neither of them moved to stoke it. Link watched Ravio’s face in the dwindling light, saw him looking at the ties still on Link’s wrists, the expression on his face as soft and open as Link had ever seen it.

I wouldn’t want to do this without you, he didn’t say, and felt with the security of utter confidence that Ravio thought the same.