Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

1

“Where is it? Where is it?” Tango dug through the drawers of his crafting table, where he kept his various little handicraft tools. All of his various colored sands for making glass, the different cords and chains for jewelry, and to think, sitting right here, deliriously tired and full of heartache, he’d created that necklace.

That necklace.

Blaze-born courtship rituals were a thing that Tango saw as if through a foggy window. He’d been rejected by the Tek Pyre when he was ten, basically the literal instant the pyre rules allowed them to throw him out. Even when he had been living there, he’d been belittled and abused.

Three blaze-rods.

So little glamor that, to this day, he still had to use a keyring, jangling off his work belt, around the labs for the doors he had to go through most frequently. If he had to make a lot of trips around in a single day, he could risk running out of enough glamor to manipulate the locks, and that?

That was just pathetic.

“C’mon, I know I left it in here somewhere!” Tango groaned aloud to himself in the quiet of his cave apartment home. It was cozy in here now, far from the barren gap in the rock that had served as his oasis when he’d first been rejected.

Safe.

There were other places around the under-city that Tango might attribute such a word to.

As he’d grown up, they’d come to him in this order.

Doc and Etho’s apartment.

Cleo’s school.

The main labs branch.

Joel and Lizzie’s bakery.

There were also people. Voices and names that gave him that same sense that he’d just had kindling tossed onto him when he was down to the embers, fighting just to keep burning when he was so small.

Even as an adult, he wasn’t what you’d call intimidating.

Blonde hair, spiky and swept back. Lit aflame at the tips by his flares and encircled by his trio of blaze-rods, like molten metal pulled freshly from a forge. He’d been a target just for this, just for this alone.

Light was precious in the under-city.

Sure, the closer the resemblance to sunlight, the more sought after it was…case in point, his best friend in the world, Jimmy, with his golden blonde hair and massive golden wings, had to be on guard even to this day, and he’d grown to be huge.

Not the sniffling little kid I ran into…

And he was so grateful for that day. Truly he was. It had sent him tumbling down a new path, shunted away from a fate that perhaps would’ve meant he’d never have grown into this. Perhaps never been allowed to grow up at all.

Head of mechanical at the labs. Praised widely as a redstone genius from the time he was nineteen. Constantly inventing, tinkering, creating. While Doc was reliable in his madness, by the force of his position, he had to stick to the steady ideas.

From the very start, he’d ensured Tango was free from any such constraints. Free to create and experiment, build and destroy, innovate without any expectations.

A good guy.

Tango hadn’t thought that, the first time he’d met Doc. While a lot of his memories from childhood had turned to that fuzzy rounded edge that often accompanied so much time, there were a couple moments from that day he could still recall with so much clarity, could close his eyes and see right now as if he were looking at a photograph.

One of them was Jimmy. In his favorite blue, white, and red sweater decorated with stars, sat against the cold dark stone, bawling silently because the Depths had taught him it was unacceptable to cry loudly.

The second was Doc.

A massive figure rushing through the archway of the labs, white blazer nearly falling from one shoulder in his haste, the mixture of relief and panic visible on what could be shifted within his expression, half frozen by augmented parts.

It had been a sharp sting then.

“There it is!”

Yet now? Well, that sting was still there, but distantly. At least…it stayed distant most of the time. But that wasn’t the issue at the forefront of his mind, in this moment. That could be stuffed away and sorted out another time.

Tango pulled from the drawer of his crafting table a beat-up, hardcover, standard size notebook. Taped to the front cover was a notecard, yellowed and curled at the edges from age. Written there in Doc’s untidy, barely legible scrawl, (and this was him trying his best to make it readable for someone else)

‘For Tango: About Blaze-borns’

The notebook was full of research about blaze-borns. From health and wellness, to cultural differences between pyres, to flares and blaze-rod behavior, to the extensive portion detailing the various meanings of all the different glassmaking and jewelry. Doc had compiled the notebook for him with the use of his archival eye, able to access the wealth of the under-city’s knowledge in literal blink.

Access it yes, but Tango knew it was difficult for him to articulate the information as it streamed through his own consciousness verbally, much less copy it onto paper.

Yet still, he did.

To this day, he staunchly refused to tell Tango how long he had worked on the notebook. He’d given it to him when Tango was in high school, left behind by the avian trio who had taken to the acclimation program to live beneath the blue sky.

Tango wished he could’ve joined them.

But I’m not built for that.

He enjoyed his job at the labs anyway, even if it meant getting nagged by Doc and Xisuma constantly about getting more rest or doing his paperwork properly. If it was any small consolation, thanks to Doc’s unique hatred for his and his husbands' utter lack of an education in how to read or write, being mostly self-taught during their teenage years, Tango had impeccable penmanship and a reading comprehension speed that even Xisuma sometimes found unbelievable.

All because Doc had firmly planted him down at the table alongside the avians for extra schoolwork almost every afternoon, even if a lot of those days, the crawling, stinging confusion of it all would drive him back to his home in due time.

Safety was a difficult thing, to blaze-borns.

Or so the notebook said. And Tango trusted Doc more than anyone else when it came to this kind of research, and it hadn’t led him astray yet.

So when he sat at his crafting table, put the notebook down on the smooth crystalline slab he used for glassmaking, and began flipping through, he found the page in short order.

Labeled at the top in Doc’s untidy, severely slanted scrawl, which Tango had grown well-used to deciphering, was written…

Courtship Rituals

A nervous whine got out of him.

Tango picked at his claws as he skimmed down the page.

A lot had happened recently.

He’d accidentally given Zed a courtship necklace like a total idiot. Then he told Zed about the courtship necklace like a total idiot. Then he’d chased Zed to the over-city to beg for forgiveness…

…like a total idiot.

And still, someway, somehow, he’d been met with eyes like amethyst that oozed such fondness for him, it made Tango feel oddly…settled.

Which was a good thing.

Tango had lived pretty much his entire life feeling some version of unsettled almost constantly. Even in the peaceful moments he’d spent with Jimmy and his family, who had taken him in as if he was one of their own, even if he’d felt like he never quite fit, despite them being such an oddball family.

There had always been this small quivering burn of inescapable writhing energy buried somewhere in his chest that never stopped. He had to move. He had to be doing something. Something useful. When he was a kid, that had been doing penmanship practice or peppering Doc with questions about redstone so he could learn, begging Jimmy for free falls, insisting they should go do something, do anything, because if he just sat and existed there with them then surely someone would pick their head up at some point and go ‘hey…why are you here again?’

Tango knew it was irrational. Don’t start pestering again, of course he knew it was irrational. He didn’t quite fit. He didn’t quite belong. That didn’t mean they would throw him out like everyone else had.

Belong.

Blaze-borns were fire.

They were possessive and consuming by nature. Things like courtship necklaces were meant to try and negate some of those feelings before they could turn violent, as far as Tango understood.

Zed’s necklace had done its job, after all. It had been there with Zed, shown another Tek pyre blaze-born who’d just happened to be there that Zed needed to be protected, even if, in the aftermath, that woman had dismissed Tango as a reject and a joke.

Tango didn’t care. He was still grateful. For all that had gone wrong, he’d been able to do one little thing right as a blaze-born. The necklace.

Now he and Zed were dating.

To be fair, that had only been established a few days ago; he hadn’t even gotten the chance to see Zed in person since his escapade to the over-city, but they’d called each other every night, and somehow, it hadn’t felt any different.

Tango wasn’t sure if he necessarily wanted it too.

His ruby red eyes dragged over the messy slanted scrawl of a list in the notebook, the courtship rituals unique to blaze-borns, and he began fidgeting even harder with his claws.

It was selfish. It was greedy. Yet he couldn’t help himself.

Zed was beautiful. He was brilliant, and bright, and sun-kissed. He didn’t belong to the dark place where Tango was raised, sputtering and sparking.

But would it be too much to ask…? That I could have even just a tiny little piece of him all to myself?

His flares sputtered and crackled with a warm passion at the thought, and for an instant or two, it was like a balm, soothing and blissfully settling.

His phone began to ring with a jittering tone reserved for one person in particular. Scrambling up and slamming the notebook shut, Tango raced across his cave apartment to the pillow pile in front of his fireplace, where a large fire roared merrily.

He snatched up his phone from where he’d tossed it amongst the fire resist treated pillows and blankets and then turned and plopped himself down. Swiped to accept and put the device to his ear.

“Hey, Zed!”

“Hello, hello, and are we this fine evening? You home yet?”

His voice was cheerful and exuberant and bright. Tango beamed, rows of pointy teeth on display to the empty apartment.

“Sure am! You?”

“Just got back. Look at you, beating me home from work! Who are you and what of you done with Tango?”

Tango laughed, high and pitchy. “Don’t get too excited! X kicked me out!”

“Oh, did he now? Then you get no credit.”

“Awww, I promise I went after the…hmm…fourth comparator was thrown at my head?”

Zed snorted. “Ah, yes, nothing like a bit of brain damage to really get those legs moving. Either way, I’m glad you’re getting some rest.”

“Define ‘rest’.”

“Tango.”

“I’m sorry!”

They carried on the chatter just like always. If there was one thing the two of them could do to no end, it was talk, especially with each other. You’d think after months of having called for hours almost every evening, they’d run out of things to discuss, or new ways to make the other burst into fits of laughter, but it never happened.

Tango’s tail flicked back and forth like a contented cat, the flaming tip sparking and dancing.

Maybe this was as much as he’d be given.

If he looked at it, truly looked at it, he’d already been allowed to take so much more. Zed had traveled to the dark to see him. Tango had braved the open sky to try and make things right after countless missteps.

Now they were here, chattering away over a shaky cell connection as if nothing had ever happened.

And that was fine.

…but I’m a blaze-born…and I’m a bit selfish…so maybe I’ll see if I can take just a little bit more.

*

*

*

Excerpt from Doc’s Blaze-born research notebook:

A courtship necklace is the fifth and final gesture of courtship for blaze-borns. A series of beads and knots of specific colors (I have noted details in glass-making section) the intention is to display the courted party is beloved of the blaze-born. Considering you might start to develop possessive feelings for any romantic interests as you get older, this is a way of both protecting them and displaying to others that they are taken. It is perfectly healthy for you to feel this way, so long as you do not allow it to get out of hand. Remember that this is also a feeling that means you wish to protect and care for someone in a manner different to anyone else you have had before. Gifting a necklace like this is SERIOUS intention, and to my understanding it operates with very little difference to an engagement ring. Make sure you read over everything about courtship carefully, and talk to me or Etho if you need any advice about something this important! (Do not ask him about my wedding proposal to him, though. It was rather uninspired.)

Chapter Text

2

Zed

Should I bring him a gift?

Zed was dressed same as usual. It had taken him awhile to decide even on just something like that, something so simple, because today he was going to visit Tango. That in and of itself was nothing particularly fancy, that in and of itself was nothing new. By this point he’d made the trip a dozen times, either with Katherine or at the least with someone waiting to pick him up at the station exit, once he’d managed to convince Tango he could manage the commute itself without a babysitter. Not that he truly thought of things that way. After the experience he’d had the last time he’d decided to stroll the under-city streets on his own, he was never going to complain about Tango being overprotective ever again.

He trailed his fingertips over his throat and caught one of the beads of his necklace between his thumb and forefinger, rolling the glass back and forth, back and forth. It was warm from resting against his skin, and it was a staple accessory for him now. He wore it constantly, only taking it off when he got in the shower, then immediately putting it back on again.

It represented a lot, this necklace.

A lot of heartache, but also the moments it mended, right alongside it’s own mending, the smallest lump of the chain once snapped now reconnected.

Does he like flowers?

But right. Back to the initial point.

The big difference was this was his first visit since he and Tango had started dating. A kerfuffle involving the blaze-born taking a huge risk and sneaking into the over-city after Zed had been refusing to answer his calls. The ensuing chaos had resulted in them hashing out their feelings for each other.

You know…mostly.

Because that’s the thing, isn’t it?

They were dating now.

Zed had a boyfriend now.

He just wasn’t entirely sure what that meant for Tango. What did that even look like in the under-city? Or for blaze-borns in particular? Zed had certainly picked up on some more concerning details about blaze-born pyres and their practices as a subspecies from some things Tango had said during the aftermath of the whole ‘necklace’ incident.

Then again, it wasn’t like Zed was about to claim he was any sort of relationship guru. He was just so happy that things were over the hump between himself and Tango that he didn’t want to risk anything ruining it.

I’ll try and bring it up with him today when I see him.

Zed concluded before he hefted his backpack.

And if he had packed an extra change of clothes and a toothbrush, on the off chance that Tango would suggest he say the night, then so sue him.

Tango

He fidgeted nervously with his gloved fingers, standing in the archway of the rail cart station for the East-Near-Surface.

Today was no different, not really.

Except it’s way different!

After all, it wasn’t just his friend Zed coming to visit.

It was his boyfriend Zed coming to visit.

And what does that even mean!?

Tango had half-considered calling Jimmy for relationship advice, before realizing that was a terrible idea with how badly his best friend had stumbled around with his own boyfriend. Then he’d thought maybe he’d call Jimmy and ask him to pass the phone to Scott, because obviously they were together it was a Saturday if Jimmy wasn’t with his boyfriend on a Saturday the world was ending, but he was already running low on time by then. 

He checked his phone again. Zed had sent a text that he was on his way down about twenty minutes ago, meaning he should be emerging from the station any second now.

Just take some deep breaths. It’s still Zed. We’ll do the same old thing.

But did Tango want the same old thing?

I mean, sure, partly he did. But there were other things he wanted, too.

Tiny little piece. Mine.

Tango stared down at his boots for a moment, then violently shook his head, so hard his flares were sent streaking back and forth.

What the hell was that!?

Ruby-red eyes trailed out over the main street of the under-city as he took several careful, deliberately slow breaths. His heart felt jumpy and stuttering; his palms were sweating, but he still wasn’t going to take his gloves off.

What if Zed wanted to hold hands?

Tango would sooner be sick than try to reach out and touch Zed with his bare claws.

He paced a bit near the archway, earning himself some concerned sideways glances. Fingers threading in and out of each other, mind awhirl until…

“Tango!”

His eyes snapped up to see Zed emerging safe and sound from the rail cart station. His pale blonde hair was done in the half-up, half-down style, with a small bun against the back of his head and a layer left drifting down against the nape of his neck. Eyes like amethyst gemstones, sun-kissed skin, and when he smiled he did so with his entire face.

He’s beautiful. I’m so screwed.

“Zed! Hey, glad you made it, was the ride all good?” Tango asked, falling into the usual step, moving toward Zed eagerly.

He put his arms out, because Zed was a hugger, and Tango wouldn’t have exactly identified himself as a hugger, but when it came to this particular brand of hugs?

Well, Zed gave the best hugs.

Sorry Jimmy.

They embraced off by the side of the archway, and in a split second, they spent in each other's arms, Tango found a sudden, unbearably quick desire to do something more.

Can I kiss him now?

He might have let go a little faster than necessary. Zed didn’t seem to notice.

“Yes, yes, all was well, I promise! So, what’s on the agenda today?”

They fell into strolling along comfortably side by side, and Tango shrugged, stuffing his gloved hands into his vest pockets.

Maybe to avoid brushing hands with Zed?

Because what would he do if he couldn’t resist the urge to lace their fingers together? Worse yet, what would he do if Zed tried to lace their fingers together? His claws were covered, but even still. Even still the idea of them touching Zed, of those dangerous ugly things touching Zed, it made his stomach try to clench all over again.

“I dunno, you got anything in particular on your mind? We can stop in at Joel and Lizzie’s for a bite later, but if you wanna wander around, now’s the time.”

It was busy right now, the mid-morning on Saturday’s always was, people tended to do their weekly shopping right now. The streets being full was safer, with more eyes, and the vast majority of the folks living on the near-surface were good-intentioned. You didn’t run nearly as much risk of accidentally bumping into a mobster…not one that wasn’t on Etho’s payroll, at least.

“…hm…if that’s the case, you mind terribly if we just go to your place for awhile?”

Tango’s eyes widened slightly and he turned his chin to look up at Zed. “You just wanna hang out?”

Zed smiled at him. “With you? Always.”

And maybe his flares gave him away by sputtering slightly from that line, but Tango would never admit to anything.

“Alrighty. If that’s what you wanna do, that’s fine by me!”

So they wove their way through the main street of the near-surface, thronged with folks, and Tango stubbornly kept his hands in his pockets.

Leave it to Zed to find a way even around that.

“Awful lot of people out!” He commented, and he reached.

Tango felt his heart stutter when Zed smoothly slipped his hand into the crook of Tango’s elbow, fingers curling against his arm, the bright red fabric of his cropped long sleeve shirt.

Zed was taller than him, so he wasn’t able to link their arms fully, he would’ve had to slouch awkwardly while he walked to do that. But with just his fingers holding gently to Tango’s arm, it was perfectly comfortable to continue in stride.

“You think it’s more crowded than usual?” Zed didn’t miss a beat in the conversation, amethyst eyes scanning over the heads of the street before darting to Tango’s face once, then up again.

Tango was having an internal episode.

He’s holding my…arm? My arm? What? Is that allowed? Is that how this works? It’s not holding hands but it’s not not holding hands? I mean he’s holdificating something, so it’s gotta count? We’re dating it’s not weird! I’m happy! Should I take my hand out of my pocket? What if he thinks I’m trying to shake him off? What if he thinks I wanna hold hands and tries to do that? I can’t do that! What do I do!?

“U-Uh, yeah, it is pretty slammed! I dunno why though, nothing in particular is going on!”

“Makes it a good day to relax inside, I think. Plus it’s freezing!” Zed was smiling, stars, he was smiling and he was holding Tango’s arm and he hadn’t let go and they were walking and this was perfect and Tango was going to explode.

Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

Tango smiled back, the very edges of his pointy teeth coming into view. “Yeah, one hundred percent! H-Has there been any snow?”

“Not yet. Forecast says we might get some next week.”

The conversation continued to flow with ease they carried on. Tango slowly got used to the feeling of Zed’s hand settled in the crook of his arm, to the point that he felt that warm soothing balm over the unease energy that had forever possessed his heart. It wasn’t long before they were arriving at his home, and Tango’s only regret was, because the tunnel that led up to it was a short climb up a wall and then a narrow squeeze, Zed had to let go of his arm.

He silently hoped maybe that might become mundane for them. That Zed might casually hang his hand on Tango’s arm whenever they were walking side-by-side.

Tango knocked against the stone to trigger his redstone door, and whooshing of pistons pulled massive blocks away to reveal his home.

“After you, my good sir!” He stepped to the side and gestured.

“My, my, and they say chivalry is dead!” Zed crowed jovially as he strode past Tango and into the apartment. He dropped his backpack by the door and kicked off his beat-up sneakers.

“Y’know Tangs, I will always appreciate how you keep it so warm in here!”

Tangs.

Yeah, his heart shouldn’t flutter this heart at such a silly little nickname.

But it did.

Sue him.

“I mean, I am on fire.” Tango replied with a chuckle as he stripped off his black vest, and Zed removed his bomber jacket.

The red beads of his necklace caught the firelight.

A purr tried to heat up Tango’s chest, he beat it down with a stick.

Zed tossed his bomber jacket over the back of the chair at Tango’s crafting table alongside the black vest, now in his usual brown chunky knit cardigan and low cut scoop neck white tee shirt. Pale jeans.

It wasn’t fair for something so simple to look so good on someone.

Tango vaguely, distantly recalled Jimmy having breakdown over how Scott somehow made one of his oversized tee shirts and a pair of sweatpants look like runway material. Now he could commiserate.

Zed flopped onto the pillow pile with an extended sigh and stretched out like a lazy cat. Long arms extended over his head, fingers threading together to flex sore muscles.

Tango wandered over and planted his hands on his hips, leaning over him slightly.

“Comfy?”

“Very.” Zed replied, smiling up at him.

Tango had thought this before, multiple times, but Zed seemed to smile with all of his face. The edges of his eyes crinkled, his eyebrows would shoot up, and ok, Tango had definitely been staring at him too long again. 

Zed didn’t seem to notice. Either that, or he didn’t mind. Tango couldn’t decide which was more terrifying.

His boyfriend remained splayed out on the pillow pile. After a second he picked up his feet to pedal them in the air aimlessly.

“I think pillow piles should be a staple of furniture! I mean, it’s a bed and a couch and a landing pad all rolled into one! Put it on those cheesy home design TV shows! It should be a hit!”

“Eh, you’d be surprised, there’s a lot of subspecies down here who have nesting instincts, so stuff like this isn’t that rare.” Tango mused.

Zed sat bolt right up, his socked feet plopping down against the flooring, over the built up surface of the cave floor, no longer ragged stone.

“You have nesting instincts!?”

Tango gave a nervous chuckle. “U-Um, a little bit, yeah.”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait…” Zed waved his hands back and forth a few times.

“L-Like a bird? B-But you’re a…a…fire guy!”

“Yes, fire guy, that’s me, very astute.”

“Shut it! Y’know what I mean!”

Tango laughed, straightening back to fold his arms over his chest with a wry smile. “Well, there’s a lot of weird stuff that goes on with subspecies down here. Between hybrids and mutants, there’s about a bajillion different rituals, instincts, stuff like that. You get used to it.”

“What sorts of ones are blaze-borns known for, then? Other than…” Zed brushed his fingertips momentarily over the central pendant of his necklace, and Tango’s flares traitorously burnt a little further down his hair.

He raked his hand back over and sputtered. “T-There’s a couple, u-uh, I mean, I wasn’t raised by blaze-borns, not really, so I’m kinda weird but t-there’s uh…”
Tango swallowed.

He’d explained to Zed in a bit more detail after the whole kerfuffle about what the necklace exactly meant. How it meant so much more than just ‘taken’. How it meant ‘protect’ and ‘known’.

He hadn’t mentioned other things.

Like how it had beads strung onto it that meant ‘beloved’ and ‘cherished’ and ‘treasure’. Like how for blaze-borns there was very little difference between a courtship necklace and an engagement ring. But listen, he told him the important bits! He was allowed to keep some secrets.

Tango thought about the list in the beat up notebook. Tried to scrape together some thin veneer of confidence.

“T-There’s this!” He sat on the pillow pile beside Zed, then reached out and grabbed one of the blankets folded near the edge. Zed’s brow furrowed, he was just about to ask after it, when Tango tossed the blanket around both of them, and then, after a moment of mental preparation, he wrapped his arms around Zed’s waist and hugged him close.

His boyfriend made a sort of stifled noise of surprise. “Tangs, what…”

Then it started to get warmer.

Blaze-borns were strange, they were an exception to a lot of the under-city’s rules. Mainly because of their relationship to fire. Tango couldn’t externalize fire very well. His glamor was weak, he didn’t have enough blaze-rods.

That didn’t mean he couldn’t heat up his own internal fire, though.

“I-It’s…it’s something a lot of blaze-borns wanna do…at least, I think. Keep people we care about warm.”

Only half a lie.

To take it to this degree, nuzzled so close beneath Zed’s chin, pressed against his chest, wrapped up in the blanket?

This was courtship. Providing warmth in the most literal sense.

“Oh…is that so?”

Tango felt Zed’s arms snake around his shoulders in reciprocation.

“…I like it.”

Rumble.

Tango felt his cheeks heating up, and Zed blinked.

“Hey.”

“Shut up.”

“Tango.”

“Shut. Up.”

“Did you just…?”

“No.”

“Are you purring?”

Some sort of cross between a distressed whine and more deep, rumbling purrs rocked his ribcage as he buried his face against Zed’s chest.

“Shut up shut up shut up! I-I’m just happy!”

“You purr when you’re happy!?” Amethyst eyes were sparkling with delight.

Tango knew Zed.

Tango was in love with Zed, even if he hadn’t said so in any fully explicit manner quiet yet.

Which meant that Tango knew well and good that Zed would never ever let something as fascinating as this drop without a fight. And Tango just didn’t have the heart to fight him over it.

“…y-yeah…it’s another blaze-born thing.” He admitted quietly as he hid his face again, against the fabric of Zed’s cardigan.

Tango let out a strangled gasp when Zed’s arms around him tightened, and then he was rather forcefully laying them down and rolling them over.

“Hey! Hey! Quit manhandling me!”

But once they were lying down, there was no escape for the little blaze-born. Zed’s long limbs wrapped around him and made sure of that, hugging him as close as possible, and Tango ended up lying essentially on top of Zed, head resting on his chest.

“Aww! You’re just the cutest, Tangs!”

“Lemme go! Lemme go!” Tango squirmed and tried to get some distance, but Zed was taller, and he already had Tango so well-pinned there was no leverage to be found.

Not to say that Tango was putting any actual effort into getting away.

“No way! I’ve got my own private space heater right here! I don’t ever wanna let you go!” Zed declared with all the oblivious brashness he always managed. Tango felt his cheeks warming even hotter, and while he hadn’t grown anywhere close to hot enough to burn, his flares were crackling even brighter, snapping and sparking from his true feelings on the scenario.

Which were utter contentment, of course.

He stopped resisting and went limp in Zed’s grasp. “Fiiiiiiiine.”

“Didn’t you just say you wanna keep me warm?”

“You’re plenty warm.”

“Not yet, I’m not. Actually, I’m very cold.”

Tango could help but laugh again, and Zed pulled the blanket fully over the two of them, nestling them into the pillow pile. Tango didn’t really sleep, much less do naps, but lying here listening to Zed’s heartbeat while the blonde drifted off, making sure to keep him warm?

Well…that wasn’t the worst way to spend an afternoon.

*

*

*

Excerpt from Doc’s Blaze-born research notebook:

Providing direct warmth is an early sign of courtship to blaze-borns. (In this way you are similar to the pesky birds!) As you grow up you will be more able to regulate your internal temperature without using glamor, and using that ability to keep someone warm through direct contact can be taken as a sign of courtship. (It is also perfectly fine to use it as a display of close intimacy with other loved ones, so the way you always warm up Jimmy Grian and Pearl during the winter is just fine!)

Chapter Text

3

Zed had come down to visit him twice this week. Tango was starting to feel a little guilty about it. Yet here they were again, and it was getting late. Tango was walking him back to the station, Zed’s hand had yet again slipped into the crook of his elbow.

He wasn’t sure if it was ok to ask Zed if he’d spend the night.

The layered insinuations there were already enough to get him flaring bright. His apartment only had one bed, and he doubted his boyfriend would allow him to sleep in the pillow pile.

Sleep being the operative term here. Which was another reason why he’d never asked, even if he was getting this slowly spiraling sense that Zed wanted him to ask.

Tango didn’t sleep.

An insomniac to the worst sort of degree, his entire life more or less he’d grown used to running till he crashed, then sleeping a few forceful hours wherever he happened to collapse. He’d gotten a bit better about it. Insisting that he at least needed to rest, but lying in bed staring at the ceiling with all the ugly thoughts having a boxing match in his brain wasn’t exactly an alluring option.

Zed had started helping with that. Their phone calls. Tango could lie down while they talked, rest his body without leaving his mind idle.

That time was enough that the constant ache he’d forgotten even existed in his joints all the time was easing just at touch.

But imagining spending the night with Zed…he wasn’t sure he could handle it yet. Firstly, there was no way he’d be able to sell Zed on the idea that he wore gloves to bed. Secondly, he wouldn’t sleep. He knew he wouldn’t. He never did, at least, not in the typical way.

Again, run until he crashed, that sort of thing.

And while lying with Zed for a couple hours the other day when the blonde had fallen asleep in his pillow pile, and Tango had gotten to soak up the sensation of being able to keep his beloved nice and warm while he rested, had been nice…an entire night of that?

Tango couldn’t beat back the ugly thoughts for that long, even if he did have Zed’s pretty sleeping face to distract him.

“Tangs? You still with me?”

Tango jolted slightly mid-step, then looked up at Zed, smiling with charm even if it tinged nervousness.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good! You know me, my brain is always running on double speed!”

“Sure…” Zed reached out to him. Linked his hand into Tango’s elbow.

What did I do to deserve this?

He couldn’t place it. Zed was understanding, patient, kind, beautiful, intellectual, he was just…he was stunning.

He was sun-kissed in every sense of the word.

Tango still had never seen the sun, though. The moon and stars he’d glimpsed that night when he’d traveled to the over-city to lay out his apology, already having done this in an entirely backwards sort of way.

Tango never planned to do any of this at all, though, it was all just crafted within a sense of helplessness, but somehow it was panning out.

Y’know.

So far.

The archway to the rail carts station was lit up to make it easy to find amidst the gloom of the under-city night cycle. They stepped beneath it, and Tango’s eyes briefly darted around the different redstone lamps and electric bulbs, buzzing and flickering.

“Look like about a  fifteen minute wait.”

“Not too bad.” Zed hummed in comfortable response, still the weight of his hand rested snugly on Tango’s elbow. The blaze-born was starting to trip over this terrifying idea that it might grow commonplace. That whenever they strolled side-by-side, they’d hold each other like this.

Or well…Zed would hold him like this

Because again, the idea of reaching toward Zed with his claws made him get this nauseating twist in his stomach. With his gloves on, it didn’t bother him as much, because the ugly things, scarred and dark and sharp, were hidden away. That was safer for everyone. Tango wasn’t like a normal blaze-born, after all, his traits were sins, not strengths.

That was what he’d been told when he was tossed from his pyre. He’d never exactly expressed the sentiment to anyone aside from Jimmy, but well, lucky or unlucky, his best friend felt a lot of the same ways. Similarly at least.

Golden wings and darkened claws oddly managed to align.

The far-off thrum of redstone and rattling rail carts made something to Tango’s ears. It always had and it always did. A rhythm.

Like music.

Blink.

Blink.

His flares burst once, and Zed tilted his head away from him slightly as they did so. Yet he didn’t pull his arm away, he knew Tango would let him know if he needed to let go for any burn-risk related reasons.

Which was already enough to send the blaze-born into a tizzy, but let’s skip that.

Clatter. Clatter. Click. Whoosh.

Clatter. Clatter. Click. Whoosh.

Clatter. Clatter. Click. Whoosh.

The under-city made music in a mechanical kind of way. Tango was sure plenty of others might find it noisy or annoying, but he found a strange comfort in it. Probably because many of those sounds were his doing, as head of mechanical. It was his own rhythmic pulsing melody.

Music.

Music.

Tango wasn’t sure where he was going with this. Yet he sucked down the mightiest breath he could manage, then pulled his gloved hands from his vest.

He had on the gloves.

It wasn’t like he was going to touch Zed’s face either.

Purple eyes like amethyst were gazing down at him, and they were pleased, a bit lined with tiredness, but from within they blazed.

Tango didn’t know how he managed it.

“You’re oddly quiet today.” Zed commented, and Tango gave a pitchy, nervous laugh. He didn’t have words to refute it, though. Ever since they’d started their walk back, his mind had been running amok with him. Ruby red eyes trailed onto his face, the face that he’d tried to imagine for weeks, that for another set of weeks all he’d had was a seven minute interview. Sometimes he liked to imagine Zed felt the same with him. Maybe even more so. Zed hadn’t known what he looked like till the day they’d first met after months of texting and calling.

They were a strange couple. They’d come together in a strange way.

So maybe it was only fair they also courted strangely?

Stars, I’ve already done everything out of order anyway…

Tango quashed the panic in his chest and focused on the rhythmic thumps of the rail cart station around them as opposed to the hammering of his heart.

Clatter. Clatter. Click. Whoosh.

He threaded his gloved fingers into Zeds. The blondes hands were larger than his, they were tanned and freckled along the backs and callused on the palms, even if Tango couldn’t feel them, if he could he wouldn’t have been able to keep it together. Ugly claws against sun-kissed skin might finish him.

Clatter. Clatter. Click. Whoosh.

He squeezed gently. Zed’s eyes burned even fonder, his smile seemed to bleed with all the patience he’d shown, taking so long to even see this face. This face that less human than many others of the under-city, rounded like a feline, eyes slitted and large, flares burning a bit further down as he tried to just let himself feel this.

Clatter. Clatter. Click. Whoosh.

It was ok to feel this.

This late at night the rail cart station wasn’t that busy. There were still some other folks coming and going, but they kept to themselves. The near-surface was relatively safe compared to other places in the city, especially when you stuck to the main street. It was only in twisted tunnels that things began to darken around the edges, blur with scarlet haze, and dangerous creatures, monster or man, might peer out from the black.

Tango didn’t want to think about that darkness, right now.

He was holding hands with someone that was every bit his light, forget the flickering flames on his head, forget the lava-like glow of his veins, this was what he’d been burning for all his life. Even if he hadn’t known it. Even if some days had come and gone where he couldn’t even figure out why he was still aflame, but just kept trucking in order to repay all the kindnesses heaped upon him by people who hadn’t even needed to give him a second glance. Claws that weren’t strong enough for the pyre, glamor that was too weak to be useful, and a frame small even by blaze-born standards, even at that young age, years ago tossed out like garbage.

But he couldn’t be. If he were, Zed would never look at him like this.

He tugged on their intertwined hands and then lightly checked his hip off of Zed’s, who made a sharp noise of playful protest.

“And what was that for?” He checked back a little harder, and Tango grinned at him.

“I’m just kinda getting used to this, is all!” He squeezed their hands a touch tighter, yet again. Through his gloves, he felt Zed squeeze back.

“And your best solution to doing that was hitting me? That’s a bit mean.”

“Aw, don’t be dramatic!” Tango replied.

Clatter. Clatter. Click. Whoosh.

And spin.

Tango tugged Zed closer to him, reached out to lay his other hand on his hip, and turned them around.

Clatter. Clatter. Click. Whoosh.

“What are we doing now, then?” Zed went along with the gentle pressures, letting Tango twirl him around once. His expression lit up. When Tango’s hand landed on his hip, the blondes response was to put his free hand on the blaze-borns shoulder. The fabric of his black vest overtop the red cropped long sleeve shirt, his attire on the day-to-day. His flares crackled happily, and in their momentarily glances of blazing light, the red and amber flecked beads in their knots and patterns caught. Clasped as always around Zed’s neck, resting on his collarbone, sun-kissed skin peeking from beneath the low scoop neck white shirt.

Tango felt the humor, albeit at his own expense, chuckled lightly at a fact Zed didn’t know, and didn’t have to know just yet. He’d keep this one to himself just a little longer. It didn’t do any harm, not this one, not like some of the other secrets he’d kept before.

“I did this all so out of order.”

Zed’s brow furrowed as Tango continued to sway with him, never let his hands leave him.

“Did what out of order?”

“Don’t worry about that.”

“I am very worried about that.”

“Calm down, Encyclopedia Zedaph.”

“Why are you bullying me now!?”

Laughter rang in the tunnels because all the jest and teasing was nothing hurtful; it was all feather light and beloved, and whereas before Tango’s heart might ache, now they were touching.

Yeah, it was through gloves, but he was still ablaze inside at the fact.

Zed

Clatter. Clatter. Click. Whoosh.

I’m not sure what’s gotten into him, but I’m not complaining.

Zed had been doing some thinking today.

He’d come down feeling jittery with fresh nerves, not as bad as the first time he’d come to see Tango, but certainly comparable. This was all new. This was all different. Or at least…it was supposed to be.

But who decided that?

In the end, the reason he’d fallen for Tango, fallen in love with this man at first sight, was because of all the things that had been stacked up so far, in a teetering pile that sometimes struggled to hold together. Yet hold it did, despite the strains they’d placed on it.

And stars, had they strained.

Zed thought in retrospect there were things he regretted about how he reacted. He didn’t regret getting angry. He didn’t regret demanding answers. Tango had been well aware that Zed’s least favorite feeling in the world was to be left in the dark, and yet that was where he’d put him, with intent.

But it hadn’t been malicious. Zed saw that. He wasn’t an idiot. He was a very clever person, for as little as he could dare to praise himself on such a thing right now. Perhaps a mouthy uncouth soul, someone who didn’t know when it was better to keep his head down, asking questions at just the wrong times.

Ten minutes.

All he’d ever strove for had been passed through a paper shredder in a ten minute meeting. His professional life’s work. Then he’d been kicked to the curb. Blacklisted and unable to get back into the career he wanted anywhere in the over-city, only saved from being run out of the place entirely by the mercy of an old college friend.

So what was this?

Zed thought it was a little funny. He was a lot taller than his boyfriend, yet Tango’s hand was on his waist, and his was on the blaze-borns shoulder. It probably should’ve been the other way around.

But I couldn’t care less. Because he’s touching me.

And where the hell had that come from?

Zed had spent a lot of time feeling shattered.

Damaged. Broken. Filled with cracks that leaked any source of fulfillment, anything that might help him feel that bluster of passion that had once consumed him every day. He’d always been a confident guy, he felt good about his looks, he’d studied hard and knew he was smart, he was good socially, none of that had every laid any sort of weight on him for most of his life. Then it had happened. He’d been shredded. Smashed into pieces without any clue of where to land, drifting unable to find any sort of motivation, because nothing made him feel anymore.

He could fake it.

Sometimes he could fake it so well he’d forget he was faking. With Cub, at the Hot Cave, bickering over various things that could be improved but wouldn’t be because the local superhero liked things as he liked them and would stand for no significant changes.

Tango had started this, they were swaying and had hands on each other, and it was so much better than anything they could’ve had for distant months wherein Zed couldn’t even picture Tango’s face because he’d never seen it.

Now he had. The view made him feel a fool, for believing the sun didn’t shine beneath bedrock.

Lovely yellow skin, a face rounded a touch more than any human Zed had met, but then, Tango wasn’t human. That was the entire point.

Whatever that said about Zed, well, he could unpack that another time.

Blonde hair that swept back and vanished into flames, ruby red eyes that were so big, slitted like a feline, and apparently Tango had a lot of attributes that rang as cat-like.

That must just be a blaze-born thing.

He purred when he was content, his tail would mirror his mood, raising up when he was curious, pressing down when he was upset or prickly, swaying lazily at the blazing tip when he was comfortable. Zed had thought it the moment he’d seen Tango, and he’d only come to believe it more and more in every instant since.

He’s the sun…

It didn’t need to be anything more.

Zed was rapidly coming to the conclusion that as long as Tango was looking at him like this, he’d be whatever he liked.

Clatter. Clatter. Click. Whoosh.

Clatter. Clatter. Click. Whoosh.

Clatter. Clatter. Click. Whoosh.

CLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANK

Both of them jumped when there was a sudden expansive, extended groan from within the very walls, and briefly, power to the station flickered. The redstone circuits pulsed and the lights buzzed.

“What's happening?” Zed asked, fingers tightening into Tango’s and against the blaze-born’s shoulder, but his boyfriend didn’t panic. His hand on Zed’s waist didn’t fall away.

“It’s ok…just a hitch in the power, one of the redstone cables must’ve run outta juice,” Tango said, then he smiled reassuringly at Zed. As the tunnel flickered and darkened, some far-off pistons sputtering, his flares illuminated them both. He squeezed a touch tighter against Zed’s hand.

“Just give it a few seconds. We’ve got systems in place for stuff like this.”

Sure enough, after a few more seconds, there was a whirring sound, clattering through the tunnel walls, and all the systems burst to life again, redstone circuits lit once more. The tunnel lights all snapped on again.

“Oh, wow! That’s fascinating! How do you have a replacement system that runs so quickly? I know redstone has a limited power span so does it have to do with that trigger length? What about…” Zed burst into a flurry of questions, purple eyes lighting up, but Tango looked past him at the rail entrance.

In a rush of squeaky wheels and vibrating metal, a large rail cart had just gone hurtling by at full speed. Tango pressed his lips together thinly.

“Huh.”

Zed looked over his shoulder just in time to see the cart vanish into the gloom, shooting upwards, and blinked. “Was that…?”

“Yup. The outage must’ve killed power to the deactivator and other safety systems, so it didn’t trigger any of the announcements or slow down. Just went hurtling right on through.”

“Oh.”

A beat of silence.

“Huh.”

Zed looked back down to Tango with a wry smile. “So, erm…whens the next cart, then?”

He watched the blaze-born's ruby-red eyes trace along the board of times next to the barred cubicle where a station manager would be during the busiest times of the day. But that wasn’t right now, and so it was empty.

“Not…not for another forty minutes…”

Zed winced. “Ah…I-I see…”

Forty minutes? Then twenty minutes to get topside…another twenty to get through the checkpoint and onto the street…and the walk home…

He didn’t exactly feel comfortable with that.

It was already well past dark, and while the streets of the over-city weren’t nearly as unsafe for him as the tunnels of the under-city, that didn’t mean he wanted to be walking home by himself this late at night after waiting so long for a rail cart. It was already pushing the time he would’ve been fine with leaving anyway, but Tango hadn’t exactly made him feel welcome on the concept of staying over.

Which is fine!

He had to convince himself. It wasn’t as though he’d given any strong indicators that he wanted to stay over himself, to be fair. Besides, Tango was already doing so much for him. Zed had felt cracked, broken, shattered, empty for so many months before this relationship had begun. Texting Tango had started to patch those cracks. Calling him had begun to refill him. Meeting him had topped him up, and now dating him?

Zed felt like he was overflowing in the best possible way. 

So he could put up with some things that didn’t quite align with where he’d like them. He was sure it was just taking Tango a little longer than most, and besides, they’d only been properly dating a week or so, and even if he wasn’t about to expect they’d do anything, he could totally see Tango feeling a bit uncomfortable about having him stay over.

It was fine, truly it was!

Zed just wanted Tango to be happy. He was already so happy just feeling this sense of fulfillment again after so long shredded apart. So it was fine. He'd be fine.

So, color him surprised when Tango’s fingers tightened against his hand and tugged gently toward the exit to the station. Ruby-red eyes were nervous, very nervous, but that didn’t matter nearly so much as what he said.

“Forget that. Why don’t you just stay the night, ok?”

One.

Two.

Three.

“Really?” Zed tried to beat down his elation, the flush of delight that somehow made him feel again that lovely sense of being held together.

Tango held him together without knowing it.

Without seeing it.

Zed had no idea of how to be after what had happened at the Institute, and now he was finding in Tango somewhere to at least start scraping together those disparate pieces again. Pull them one by one out of the paper shredder, where his professional work had been turned to ribbons alongside whatever worth he thought he held.

“Yeah, really!” Tango beamed with pointed teeth just showing their edges, and it was still a little nervous, but Tango was at least a little nervous most of the time, so Zed wasn’t going to read into it too deeply. He let Tango pull him from the station arch and happily came up to walk alongside him, swinging their threaded together hands.

“I’d love that! Yes, absolutely!”

*

*

*

Excerpt from Doc’s Blaze-born research notebook: Dancing is a courtship ritual for blaze-borns in the sense that your flares flicker or ‘dance’ in response to strong emotion. You do not need to be good at dancing, but the motions are meant to convey a desire to share the same fire, or pyre, as it were.

Chapter Text

4

Here they were.

Yes, here they were.

Tango was currently sitting on the edge of his bed, staring blankly across at the wall listening to the rustling of Zed undressing for a shower in the bathroom, trying to figure out what the hell was happening.

He had a change of clothes in his backpack.

Ruby-red eyes squeezed shut, blaze-rods whirling and Tango flung himself back on his bed and began frantically pedaling his socked feet in the air. Old sweatpants and a way oversized blue tee shirt with the sleeves torn off with faded redstone smear stains all over it, which he’d probably nicked off of Jimmy at some point in their lives, were PJs for the night.

When he’d offered to lend Zed something more comfortable to sleep in than his day clothes, he’d cheerfully replied he had PJs in his backpack.

He had stuff to stay overnight.

Tango pressed his gloved fingertips hard against his own hairline as his blaze-rods circled low around the crown of his head, then began rolling back and forth on his bed in a silent frenzy.

I’m such an idiot!

Zed had been wanting him to let him stay over. At every step and every turn Zed had been respectful, patient, and understanding to the fact that Tango had some less-than-cleanly cut issues. Of course he would never ask to stay the night, of course he would wait for Tango to open that door, now that the blaze-born was actually thinking about it was driving him insane that he hadn’t realized this was the case before.

Tango finally flopped his arms to either side of himself on the bed, breathing heavily as he stared at the stone ceiling, overgrown with fluffy moss in patches, enchanted by Shelby to ensure the air remained pure and easy to breathe if not exactly the same pierce as fresh air from above.

Tango filled his lungs a couple of times, trying to steady himself. They’d whipped together something for dinner already, now Zed was taking a quick shower before bed.

Is he the type to shower at night?

The blaze-born looked down at Zed’s open backpack left near the foot of his bed, and he could see peaking out the edge of a plush-looking pink sleep mask.

He wears a sleep mask. Does he tie his hair up? Does he leave it down?

Tango caught his lower lip between pointed teeth and started worrying at it. There were so many little details about Zed he knew and treasured. Yet the simple option of staying the night was opening up so many more outlets to learn more. Tango wasn’t nearly as obsessive with knowledge as his boyfriend, but if that knowledge was about his boyfriend, all of a sudden, he felt insatiable.

In a soft clattering burst of redstone components, Tango heard the water for the shower being turned on. His heart pounded and his face felt hot. Which was probably on brand for him, but whatever. He finally released his lip from chewing at it and raked his gloved hands back over his hair, flares crackling.

To this very moment, he wasn’t sure what he was going to do about his gloves. The thing was, Tango wasn’t particularly worried about Zed seeing his claws. Zed had seen them before. Tango took off his gloves when they were eating at Joel and Lizzie’s, he’d taken them off to repair Zed’s necklace in the over-city…that wasn’t the problem.

It was touching Zed with his claws that made him recoil.

Even the concept of these sharp, dark, ugly, dangerous things coming anywhere near beautiful, perfect, sun-kissed Zed made him feel ill.

He tugged and twisted at his gloves again, stomach-churning all these half-gathered thoughts, but they were all interrupted by a loud cut-off cry from the bathroom.

“Ow!”

Tango sprang to his feet, taking two strides toward the door and drawing a breath to call inside when the door slammed open.

“Tango why the hell is your shower set to boiling!?” Zed demanded. He was shaking out his left hand, the fingertips of which were reddened, probably lightly scalded from the heat of the water when he’d swiped them under to check the temperature.

Which was…well, scalding.

Tango was a blaze-born, water any cooler than that risked hurting him, he operated in reverse with water temperature in that manner, but that was all one long roundabout aside.

Because Tango was not looking at Zed’s reddened fingertips.

He was looking just about everywhere else, ears burning, face flushing orange toward pink like a sunset, blaze-rods speeding up and crackling as his flares sputtered and his tail flicked in a frenzy.

Zed was wearing two things at the moment.

His courting necklace.

And a towel.

The towel was wrapped loosely around his waist. The curve of his hipbones, willowy body soft with muscles only lightly defined, long legs, and tanned skin that made his pale blonde hair and amethyst eyes stand out even brighter.

Tango swallowed hard. “U-Um…y-yeah…uh…”

He shook his head once. “Sorry! I-I forgot to mention, yeah, I kinda gotta use water that hot, i-it’s weird, b-but…did you burn yourself?” He took another two steps forward hesitantly.

Zed gingerly curled the fingers of his left hand to examine his fingertips.

“…I dunno, maybe a touch. Just stings.”

Beautiful.

Tall and willowy.

Beautiful.

Pale blonde hair and eyes like amethyst.

Beautiful.

Sun-kissed skin.

Tango felt his blaze-rods trying to twirl and raked a hand back through his hair in a motion as if to swat them away, then reached out. With gloved hands, gloved hands, had took Zed’s left hand and pulled it down to look at his fingertips. They were scalded for sure, but not badly. Nothing that wouldn’t heal in a couple of days, maybe less.

His heart stuttered at the sudden opportunity laid before him.

Tango had silently resigned to give his proper best to Zed, from here on out. Whatever that looked like, well, he still wasn’t entirely sure yet. But Zed deserved better than the clumsy, pathetic bumbling that he’d been doing so far. Yet again, he’d fallen back on the courtship rituals of a subspecies that hadn’t wanted him, yet he was a part of them just the same. He couldn’t deny that something deep in his chest tried to rumble fondly, start him purring, when he gave his best to performing these little quirks.

Zed didn’t know what he was doing.

Zed didn’t need to know. While Tango had sworn he’d never again leave his boyfriend in the dark, little things like this surely weren’t any grand offense. It was different from the courtship necklace.

Which I still haven’t exactly completely and totally explained to him.

But it was fine.

It was fine.

Taken.

Tiny little piece. Just a sliver, just a fraction, just something enough for Tango to cling to during his every sleepless night and know that he might finally be getting something right. A genius, a prodigy, another little one that the current Director had picked up, yeah, sure, but this was different.

Tango didn’t buy into much of the praise he received for all his mechanical marvels.

What he did buy into was the look on Zed’s face.

As Tango held his hand with such care in gloved fingers, checking the reddened fingertips, then lifted his gaze to match with eyes like gemstones, purple that stood out against tanned skin and pale hair.

“Well, am I gonna live?” Zed asked him, a thrum of amusement beneath his tone, and Tango realized he’d been staring too long.

A flustered giggle broke from his lips, of all things, and even as he mentally beat himself up over that, he let go of Zed’s hand and spun.

“Here, I’ve got burn cream on standby! One sec!”

Hurrying into his kitchen, he hopped up the half-step from the smoothed natural stone cave floor of half of his apartment onto the raised brick-like flooring of the other half, where his kitchen, bed, crafting table and such were all arranged. He began slamming through the drawers in his kitchen and vaguely recognized Zed trailing him.

Still in nothing but a towel and his courtship necklace.

His blaze-rods did a frantic twirl again, and he batted at them.

“Here it is!” He found the half-squeezed-out tube of burn cream, something he unfortunately had grown used to keeping in stock, not for himself, but for those around him.

Tango had burned more people he loved than he cared to admit. Jimmy had a collection of small, shiny little burn scars along his arms and within his massive golden wings to prove that point. Pearl and Grian did, too, and Lizzie had a slightly lighter patch on one of her paw pads from an incident when they were teenagers that she still ribbed him endlessly over.

Etho and Doc had more than anyone else.

Well…Etho had more than anyone else. Doc had the good sense to put his metal arm to use whenever Tango was flaring and needed to be handled in one way or another, especially when he was young. He’d been rejected, tossed from his pyre, and so he’d lost a lot.

One of those things, so key, was any sort of education in how to regulate his internal heat and keep it internal. All he’d had was the guesses Doc could make based on archival eye research and his own feel for it.

A self-taught skill. It was frustrating, endlessly frustrating.

So many things he’d learned as a poor imitation of what they were meant to be, and Tango of the Tek variety was a man who even stole his own name, his own additions because he wasn’t technically allowed to introduce himself as being of the Tek variety because the Tek’s hadn’t wanted him.

No one wanted me.

And usually in moments when these thoughts hit him in a whirling burst, a few seconds all it took to drag him down, he’d start working.

Get his hands busy. Get his brain busy. Doing calculations, running redstone, setting up mechanics, examining tech, doing anything to keep himself from thinking about it. Remind himself as best he could that sure, he wasn’t quite the same as the three avians, as the rest of the oddball family, and yet, they’d still had him under their roof more nights than not.

A family of five. And Tango.

That’s how he’d always thought of them. He’d wished at times to fashion in his heart some way to see them as his new pyre, but it hadn’t happened. Maybe that just was never meant to be?

Yet all of this whirled by in the span of seconds, and then he turned and saw Zed having sat on the edge of his bed, examining his own scalded fingertips, still wearing nothing but a towel, and those red beads that Tango had poured every ounce of his heart into.

Something flickered in his chest that he’d never felt before.

Pyre.

Tango swallowed.

“H-Here, this should soothe the burn…it’ll help it heal faster.” He crossed the space toward Zed and was given that smile, that smile, that smile that made him want in ways that he was pretty sure he’d never felt before.

“Thank you…maybe hang a sign in your bathroom, hm? Danger, boiling water…you actually shower in that? How does that work?” Zed carried right along, asking his questions, inquisitive expression as he put out his right hand for the tube of burn cream.

One.

Two.

Three.

Tango pushed out a small yet forceful little breath. 

"U-Um, just weird blaze-born stuff, I mean, I'm literally on fire, so even my water has to be hot!" He cracked another giggle, punched it up with a little more force than perhaps would've been natural, but that was alright.

Then he took off his gloves.

“Here, I’ve got it.” He said as he peeled away the well-worn thick fabric of his work gloves, which had been getting so much more wear now that Zed had been visiting so often. He set his gloves on his bedside table and sat on the edge next to Zed, and tried not to look at his claws.

Black and sharpened to point, cracked along the edges where they met sunny yellow skin, chipped here or there because he used them instead of pliers while working with finer mechanics and never bothered to properly care for them.

But I’ll care for Zed’s.

His what? His claws? Well, he’d scalded his fingertips, so it was close enough. Tango squeezed a pearl of the burn cream onto his fingertip, beneath the hard edge of his claw, and then set the tube aside and put his other hand out.

Zed smiled at him, his eyes were crinkled at the edges fondly, he seemed a moment to be almost…giddy.

Tango understood that Zed was no fool. He was a very, very clever man. He knew what it meant, that Tango always wore gloves. He’d seen Tango’s claws for moments here or there, but never felt them, never been touched by hands which bared them, and Tango’s stomach was clenched like a fist, a burn developing in the pit, but that could all be ignored because he’d sworn to himself that this time, this time he’d do it properly.

Zed had endured enough of his stumbling.

So when his boyfriend offered him his left hand with the scalded fingertips upturned, Tango took it with the gentlest possible touch. When he saw the dark of his claws against the loveliness that was Zed’s tanned skin, he felt every bit as ill as he’d been expecting he would.

But he pressed past it.

Started gently applying the burn cream, and Zed hissed, teeth gritting.

“Sorry, sorry! Yeah, that was totally my bad, I should’ve remembered about how I have the shower set…I just don’t have people over that often.”

“No? What about your mysterious childhood besties whose names you refuse to tell me?” Zed asked, but his tone was cheerful and lighthearted.

“You know why I have to do that,” Tango mumbled as he kept working, moving slowly, with infinite care.

“…they don’t stay over here very often. If we’re gonna spend the night together, we’ll all go to their parents' apartment.”

“Right, because they’re your boss’ kids, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

It was about trust.

Tango had already been given a green light from all three of the avians about Zed knowing about them. If they ran into him in the over-city, so be it. Pearl especially had been chomping at the bit to get ahold of Zed ever since he and Tango had started officially dating, but Tango had withheld on account of how Zed would instantly recognize her since he was a fan of her blog and podcast, the Moon View.

It was about trust.

Yet Zed was sitting here, in nothing but a towel and his courtship necklace, seeming perfectly at ease as Tango cared for his scalded fingertips with dark, ugly claws on full display.

Tango made a quiet whine in the back of his throat, and kept his eyes on Zed’s fingertips, not looking up at him. He heard the intake of breath. Zed was about to ask what was wrong, but he cut him off.

“…Jimmy is my best friend. He and I met when we were ten. He’d gotten lost, up in the tunnels, and it was just a few months after I was…y’know…”

Zed didn’t say anything for a moment. Then his shoulders seemed to unwind even further, his comfort in the situation was so obvious, so perfect, and Tango felt a sort of delirious joy dancing in the back of his head at that fact.

His love was at ease with him.

Late at night, just like this.

“Oh yeah? Sounds like a hell of a story. Tell me about it?”

“S-Sure! Uh, so, um…let’s see, it actually wasn’t very far from here…”

Tango figured he’d applied enough burn cream, but he kept holding Zed’s hand anyway.

*

*

*

Excerpt from Doc’s Blaze-born research notebook: Claw care is a very integral part of intimacy. If you would like to compare, it is a lot like preening for the pesky birds. Your claws are an important part of your features as a blaze-born, and they require routine maintenance that can sometimes be difficult to perform by yourself. Allowing someone outside of your family to care for your claws is a very deep expression of trust and courtship. The same would be said for you caring for someone else’s claws…and if they do not have claws, well, I suppose in that case you could help them file their nails or something? This is beyond my purview.

Chapter Text

5

Zed

He was elated.

Not only had a very well-timed redstone failure landed him the night at Tango’s, but now another lovely little coincidence had occurred. See, he’d still been all caught up in just how the rest of the night would go…he didn’t expect anything, not really, just…just curiosity.

And if Zed was one thing, he was curious.

So he’d been a bit distracted as he’d turned on the shower, stripped down, and moved to swipe his hand beneath the spray to check the temperature. He still hadn’t taken his courtship necklace off, but he’d remove it before he got under the water.

And then the pain had registered.

Apparently blaze-borns showered with scalded hot water.

Tango had neglected to mention that his shower was just set to that temperature, and he never really needed to adjust it considering he was the only one who used it. But Zed wasn’t mad.

How could he possibly be mad?

Some lightly scalded fingertips, after all, had landed him in this situation.

“…and then I just kinda started calling them once in a while…if I really needed something. Bit by bit though, they reeled me in…I never exactly lived with them, but I was over there at least a two nights a week if not more…”

“It’s good that they took you in, Tangs.”

Tango looked up at him with a smile. It felt a touch pressed, something Zed wondered if he should press on, but he withheld the temptation.

Tango was touching him without his gloves on.

Dark claws.

Gleaming and gorgeous.

Zed had never seen them for more than a few minutes, and in those times it was always when they were busy with something, but in this moment, in the dim light with the fireplace crackling, he had all the time in the world to examine them. They emerged from Tango’s fingers, from where the last knuckle of his fingers ended on the tops, and a bit further down so he still had soft finger pads. With those pads, he’d been gently rubbing burn cream into Zed’s scalded fingertips.

Zed was pretty sure it was good and rubbed in by this point, and yet Tango hadn’t let go of his hand, hadn’t stopped gently manipulating his longer, more slender fingers between his own.

Tango’s hands were smaller. The claws were catching the firelight, seeming to swallow it whole, and Zed felt vaguely transfixed.

Then again, what else was new?

If he thought he felt held together by Tango’s barest brushes against him with gloved hands, then what was this?

Zed’s heart trembled.

It pounded, it flipped.

He didn’t know what else to do with all these suddenly coiling emotions. He’d felt broken and alone for so long now, felt like he had to force the person he used to be for the sake of everyone around him, that if he faked it long enough, he’d convince even himself.

A ten-minute meeting had torn him to shreds.

He’d never really repaired himself.

But with Tango…it felt like he didn’t need to.

It felt like Tango just cared for all his broken pieces, fitting them together and lining them with streaks of molten gold. Hot, so hot, and Zed just didn’t know what to do with these writhing senses, even as he kept his purple eyes fixed on their intertwined fingertips as Tango told gentle stories from childhood.

He let Tango do as he pleased.

He’d be happy with anything if Tango just kept touching him.

“…Zed?”

He jerked slightly at the sound of his name and looked up. Tango was gazing into his face, and his eyes, ruby-red and brilliant as the sun, were there.

They were there.

And maybe that would be a more apt description?

That Tango was the sun…and Zed had spent so many months trapped in a midnight winter.

Whatever Tango was going to say could wait.

He brought his free hand up and looped his hand around the nape of Tango’s neck, then brought their lips together.

They slotted together perfectly.

Zed felt whole.

Tango made some sort of rumbling sound in his chest, Zed cataloged that away for later, assumed it was a purr for now, because yeah, his boyfriend did that sometimes. He could feel the tremble of Tango’s claws against his hand, still, felt him trying to shift them away, but that only made his heart seize. He chased that contact like he was starving for it because, really?

He was.

He’d been like this so long; he was so sick of feeling broken, feeling useless and unwanted, and Tango made him feel like the most beautiful thing in the world, even if that was all just novelty. And if was novelty? Then Zed would take that. He’d take anything so long as he had Tango.

The kiss broke for a heartbeat.

“Zed…I…” Tango was saying something, but Zed couldn’t care less in this moment, all he wanted touch, all he wanted was to know that this had gone somewhere, wherever they ended up, heaven or hell, it didn’t matter.

Not right this second, at least.

“Just kiss me.” He rasped.

He saw ruby red eyes, large and cat-like, turn to narrower slits. Then Tango was pressing against him, and stars, his heart was hammering. He could hear the crackling of his flares, the whirl of his blaze-rods traces phantom paths near his forehead, brushing past wisps of pale blonde hair. He wound up on his back on the bed, Tango on top of him, and he wound his long arms around the blaze-born, one around his neck, the other at his waist, just to pull him down further, press their bodies together. The oversized tee-shirt Tango was wearing pooled against Zed’s bare skin, and he was still in just the towel, but that was the further thing from his concern at the moment.

Tango’s lips were chafed.

His hands were holding Zed like he was some sort of precious thing, made of glass, seconds from shattering, and any other time it might’ve bothered him to be treated as though he were so fragile.

Right now, all he felt was beloved.

Tango broke the kiss again, a few sharp panting breaths pressed from his nose, the heat whispered over Zed’s cheek, and he knew he was bright red, eyes blown out and adoring and he didn’t care.

“T-Tangs…”

“I can’t…I-I…h-hnn…”

Zed had to force his eyes to focus in from the hazy rim of comfort, see that Tango’s eyes were darting, he’d caught his lower lip between pointed teeth, and his breath was hitching.

“Hey, hey…” He slid his hands up, cupping Tango’s face in his palms. He could feel his boyfriend was running hotter than usual, and that was saying a lot, but he wasn’t hot enough to burn.

Zed trusted him. He knew that if Tango were getting hot enough to burn, he would immediately separate them. But Tango was still here, still straddling him on the bed, still with their faces so close together, and yet there was so much coiled and knotted up in Tango’s eyes that Zed couldn’t interpret, couldn’t understand.

So he did what he knew best.

Asked a question.

“What do you wanna do right now?”

“I-I can’t…”

“I said, what do you wanna do right now?” Zed demanded, fingertips pressing harder against the sides of Tango’s face, and his chest felt tight, his heart was hammering.

But it was burning…and that felt so good after so long being cold.

“Bite you.”

Oh. Well then.

Tango began to stammer, planting his hands to either side of Zed’s head on the bed, pushing to lift himself off, panic and distress obvious in his face. “S-See you wouldn’t want me to do that m-my claws are one thing b-but my teeth are…”

Zed slipped his hands back to thread them against the base of Tango’s neck and pulled him back down.

“Did you hear me say no?”

Zed saw the instant Tango’s eyes blew back out again. The way he could feel the blaze-born's chest rumble when he brought them flush together again.

And it felt, for just a little while, like ice thawing to the sun.

*

*

*

Excerpt from Doc’s Blaze-born research notebook: The fourth courtship ritual for blaze-borns is biting, primarily in a vulnerable area, such as the inner wrist or neck. Your teeth are very sharp, and of course, it would take a lot of trust to allow someone to bite with such sharp things in such a vulnerable area. Of course, when I say biting, I do not mean with any significant force. From what I understand, it is typically barely even enough to break the skin at most. Understandably, this would take place within an intimate setting…which is ok. This is good and healthy and normal. However you must be safe! And remember you can always talk to me or Etho about anything that might confuse you regarding such activities! No stupid questions, I promise! And this must not come into any sort of usage until you are OLDER, but I just wanted to ensure you understood the entire set of rituals in case you wished to discuss them. Which you can do. With me and Etho. Whenever you need to. I MEAN IT.

Chapter Text

+1

Tango woke up first.

It wasn’t like there was any sun shining through the window to go off of in the under-city, plus he kept his windows sealed off by pistons blocks, but having lived without a sunrise his entire life, he had an internal clock that went off the day-night cycle.

As he woke up, he felt his blaze-rods lifting off the pillow and starting to circle again, his flares lighting up with soft snaps and hisses.

Ruby-red eyes blinked once.

Twice.

Then he recognized something far heavier than a pillow on his chest.

And in his periphery, there was the prettiest shade of pale blonde.

Blinked once.

Twice.

FWOOM!

Tango’s flares went hot, but he managed to keep his own internal temperature down enough not to risk burning Zed on his bare skin, because at some point he’d ended up shirtless; actually he was way more than just shirtless, and when he looked down, blinking the last haze of sleep out of his eyes, he could see thin red lines down sun-kissed shoulders, and…

Oh my stars.

FWOOM!

FWOOM!

FWOOOOOOOM!

His blaze-rods hurtled in such a fast, tight circle around his head that they whacked occasionally off his pillow, and this was enough to rouse the one asleep with his head on his chest.

“…hnn…Tangs?”

Zed picked his head up, propping one arm across Tango’s abdomen to lift his gaze, eyes purple like amethyst gems hazy from sleep.

“Ohhh, Zed, your neck!” Tango gasped, because when his boyfriend did lift his head, he could see clear as day exactly what they’d gotten up to last night. The column of Zed’s neck down to his shoulder was littered with tiny nips and small bruises, and Tango immediately felt a very strange coiling in the pit of his stomach.

He felt so guilty that he’d marked Zed up this bad, he’d have to wear a scarf for a week or more, but also…

Mine.

Tiny little piece.

All mine.

Zed just gave a sleepy chuckle in response to Tango’s words and dropped his head back onto the blaze-borns chest. “…I feel like I just had sex with a cat…”

“Oh my staaaaaars!”

Tango let out a low whine of pure humiliation, and Zed just started laughing all over again. The sound was beloved, it was deeper now, morning voice rasping from his throat, and he nuzzled against Tango’s neck with a pleased hum.

Tango gingerly ran his fingertips over the reddened lines scratched down Zed’s shoulder blades. “I am soooo sorry…”

But Zed was still laughing, quiet and breathless in a way that the hot breaths tickled on Tango’s neck and sent a giddy shiver up his spine.

“…I’m fine, Tangs…better than fine…that was the best night of my life…”

Purple eyes looked up at him again, through eyelashes lidded and pale blonde strands. “…even if my lover here seems to be rather pointy.”

“You’re the worst,” Tango grumbled, yet it wasn’t like he could make an escape. Zed was on top of him, and he was taller too, long limbs snaked around his torso and legs tangled together under the sheets.

“That’s certainly not what I heard last night.”

“Zed.”

“What?”

“Please spare me…” Tango grumbled, pressing his nose into pale blonde hair, forehead against the strands so soft, dyed it seemed shades lighter by the sun, and this was bad, wasn’t it?

Because Zed had felt his claws, felt his fangs, gotten bitten and burned, and yet he was lying here in bed with him with a dopey, adoring look on his face all the same.

And Tango had known this was already spiraling. Yeah, so sue him, it was. He probably should save this for a more romantic moment than their first morning after, bite his tongue with the same teeth that had marked up sun-kissed skin in a way he’d been privately fantasizing over for probably a little longer than he ought to have been. Yet sandwiched between them he felt the rounded glass beads, Zed’s necklace, his necklace, and all that it said, all that was still left for him to explain.

For now, he’d do his best to thin it out.

“…Zed?”

“Hm?”

“…I think I love you.”

One.

Two.

Three.

Zed shifted, Tango’s heart skipped, and ok maybe this hadn’t been the best time, he should have kept this in his back pocket for now, even if the truth hung in handmade beads around Zed’s neck right this very second, it was all still too much, none of this had been done in precisely the right order…

“You know, Tangs, that's quite a lovely coincidence…”

Zed picked his head up again and grinned at him, looking so overwhelmed at the moment with a sense of pure joy that everything else felt dim and dull by comparison.

“…because I do believe I’ve been in love with you since the moment I laid eyes on you.”

Tango would find time to be embarrassed later about how hard his ribcage rattled with a purr when he heard those words.

“Y-You have?”

“Sure have.”

“Huh. Well. T-That’s…that works out.”

Zed snorted and settled his head on Tango’s chest again, nuzzling up close beneath his chin with a contented sigh. “You bet it does.”

Tango fluttered his hands a few moments uncertainly before slowly letting them rest easy on Zed’s back, fingers tracing the outline of lithe muscle over shoulder blades with the faint red lines etched into them.

They spent a few more minutes like this, and Tango vaguely contemplated if this was what pure bliss was before Zed squirmed.

“Tangs…much as I’d love to stay like this all day, my stomach says it’s a little past my usual breakfast…”

Tango blinked twice. “Oh! Y-Yeah, it’s probably getting close to noon, isn’t it? We can go grab something at Joel and Lizzie’s and…”

Then you could head back up.

Tango caught the words on his tongue and looked down to see Zed having finally bothered to untangle the two of them, sitting back, one hand coming up to rub over his neck, the tiny nips and bruises there all so beautiful, and no, Tango shouldn’t think that, but it was true. His sun-kissed beauty cricked his neck, slender shoulders rolling out stiffness.

Tango exchanged his words.

“…and we could come back here?”

Zed beamed at him.

“Sounds perfect.”

The drag of getting up, getting cleaned up, getting clothes on, all of it was accentuated with Zed constantly trying to get hands on him because now that Tango had signaled that pretty much every wall was done pretty clearly, it was like his boyfriend couldn’t stand leaving him be longer than a few minutes at a time.

The blaze-born couldn’t deny it, he basked in the attention. It felt amazing, fingertips occasionally ghosting the back of his neck, along his shoulder, resting on his lower back, on and on it went.

Before long Tango was tossing his black vest around his shoulders and clipping his gloves to his belt.

Zed quirked a brow at him. “You not gonna wear them?”

Tango made a nervous chuckle. “W-Well…I…usually don’t. Sorry.”

Amethyst eyes sparked, but there was no anger, no disappointment, only a gleam of delight.

And wasn’t that just like Zed?

“Gotcha. Well, off we trot, then!”

Tango blanched when Zed made for the door, his blaze-rods momentarily frozen before speeding up as he snagged Zed’s bomber jacket up from where it had been draped alongside his vest.

“Hold up, put this on!”

Zed glanced back at him from near the door, the stone slabs still sealing over the exit. “Hm? It’s not that cold, though, I’ve got my cardigan. Plus, we’re just popping down to the bakery and back, that’s not far.”

Tango whined in the back of his throat, flares sputtering. “That’s not the issue!” 

Zed tilted his head, and then a devious grin split his features. “Ah…I see.”

He walked back over and took the jacket from Tango.

Zed’s usual outfit was a low scoop neck white tee and a brown knitted cardigan. Both items cut low, exposing his collarbone, and while Tango was usually thrilled with that, considering that meant he could see Zed’s courtship necklace, now?

Considering they were going to Joel and Lizzie’s, and not only was he wearing the courtship necklace as ever, but he was also wearing the results of their rather intense night together.

Tango was already going to have to wring both Joel and Lizzie for all the blackmail material he had to keep them quiet on just how deep the meaning of the necklace ran.

But the love bites?

I’d never hear the end of it.

So he was relieved when Zed took his jacket.

…and significantly less relieved when he just folded it over his arm and spun on his heel.

“Off we go!”

“No! Zed!”

“You’re no fun, Tangs…you were so happy to mark me up, and now you wanna make me cover it? I don’t think so.”

“Are you like, shameless!?”

“Mostly.”

“Put your jacket on!”

“I’m not cold!”

“That’s not the point!”

But as Tango made a swipe at Zed, the human knocked his knuckles off the stone, and the pistons engaged. Then, he was off into the tunnel.

“Hey!” Tango shouted after him, to ringing laughter that echoed and bounced. He only stopped long enough to seal the pistons behind them before giving chase.

And maybe he was just doomed to the relentless teasing he’d receive from Joel and Lizzie the second they saw Zed and all the various marks and beads he now sported that made extremely clear just how fast the two of them were going.

Tango’s flares were hot, but all the same, his chest was rumbling.

Because this was just a tiny little piece.

All mine.