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It's cold outside

Summary:

“I am in love with you, Truthless Recluse.”

Those words made him stop in his tracks, only to swiftly respond with “No, you are not.”

Because he didn't, the Sage of Truth did not love him. However, he is unfortunately the most stubborn cookie on all of Earthbread and would not accept that answer so easily.

Chapter 1

Notes:

I came up with this while in an insomnia induced haze :p

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“I am in love with you, Truthless Recluse.”

Those words made him stop in his tracks, only to swiftly respond with “No, you are not.”

Because he didn't, the Sage of Truth did not love him. However, he is unfortunately the most stubborn cookie on all of Earthbread and would not accept that answer so easily.

The Truthless Recluse received confession after confession from the man, all turned down in the exact same way. Even through his rejections, the Sage managed to sneak his way closer to the hermit. It started as compliments, then progressed to small touches, and when there was no pushback, he would gently push further. He was prodding blindly at the limit, trying to see at what point the Recluse would pull away in discomfort.

Apparently, that limit was farther than either of them had realized.

That was how he found himself sitting on his bed, being held from behind by the Sage. The man's arms wrapped around his middle, while his legs were parallel next to him, and his head rested on his shoulder. There was nothing to look at, not really; the Truthless Recluse was reading a book in Braille, and if he was sight reading he would have given some indication he was reading along, but he did not.

At the same time, the Sage knew better than to speak too much, one word about the position they were in, and the Recluse would pull away, leaving him cold and alone. So he never brought it up, but he was certainly towing the line with his soft hums and sighs of contentment. Occasionally pressing closer into his neck, where he could feel the Sage's smile grow against him.

Finally, the Recluse had finished his book, and with no interruptions, he was a little more willing to indulge the Sage. That's why once the book was placed down, the embrace on his middle tightened just enough to pull him in closer.

“It's cold outside.” Being so close to the Recluse’s ear, he spoke softly; the thought did not go unnoticed.

And it was true, small flakes of snow flitted past the window in a small flurry, though the Recluse could hardly make it out from this distance. Surely the ground was covered in snow by now, and the wind was frigid. But inside, there was a small fire, and the combined warmth of two cookies cuddled together.

He gave a small hum, “It seems like it's snowing earlier this year than before.”

“Maybe so,” the Sage was hardly listening at this point.

If you were to ask the Recluse, he would adamantly deny tilting his head so the Sage could plant small kisses on the side of his neck. It was a simple coincidence, really, and so was the satisfied sigh that escaped him at the small squeeze from the embrace. But the Sage would never ask, and would never point it out, because he'd like to do this again and again, and teasing the Recluse would not get him that.

The flat of the Sage's palms gently ran across his stomach. He wanted to keep the Recluse close and to savor every bit he was given. It was a rare treat to let him have his fun like this, but maybe the snow made the Recluse crave the closeness just as much.

He raised his hand to gently tilt the Recluse's head towards him, a request or perhaps a plea, one that the Recluse indulges in. He readjusted his position just enough to place a kiss on his lips, soft and hardly there at first, but they increased in number and intensity as more were allowed. The Recluse felt a hand slide over his chest and atop his heart. If he weren't feeling so lenient, he wouldn't allow it, but he did, even though he knew of the heavy thrumming in his chest.

It all stopped at a shiver caused by a stray breeze. The Sage pulled back from the kisses, his gaze far too sickeningly soft and affectionate, it made the Recluse want to kick him out into the snow.

“We should get ready for bed and get under the covers.” his voice remained just above a whisper, with another kiss to the corner of his mouth and a nuzzle to his cheek.

Despite not wanting to lose this warmth, he complied, climbing out of bed to change. He wasn't sure when exactly he started allowing the Sage to keep a change of clothes in his bedroom, but he supposes it was around the same time that he allowed the Sage to sleep in his bed with him. There was also a point where he would have commanded that the Sage leave his room or at least turned around, but that had been lost a while back as well. Besides, the Sage knew well to behave himself.

Once he had pulled on his nightgown, he turned up to the Sage, who assumedly met his gaze. He couldn't see him very well from this distance, but he just knew he was smiling.

“The storm is picking up. I want to keep you warm.” He held out his hands to the Recluse; there was an air of hesitancy between them before he took the Sage's hands.

He's really not sure what came over him to allow the Sage to whisk him away into his arms so easily. But he didn't complain one bit about being pulled into bed and lying his head on the Sage's chest. He would probably blame his good mood on the warmth of the room and nothing to do with the Sage fussing over the comforters, making sure he was warm and cozy.

When he was satisfied with the blanket, he pivoted to running his hands through the Recluse's hair, ever so lightly scratching his scalp. Oh, he was pushing it tonight. Recluse wanted to look up and glare, but instead, his half-lidded gaze was too soft and relaxed to elicit anything but a small chuckle. He tried to focus his eyes on the other man, but between the blur and the closing in of his vision on the edges, he could hardly make much out.

So he moved closer, only to see him better, for no other reason. This action earned him a small flurry of kisses upon his forehead. The way he furrowed his brows only got him a laugh and more kisses.

He wanted to be angrier, really, to throw off the covers and throw out the man. But the peppering of kisses to his dough kept him in place, and the nice warmth in his jam should be left undisturbed, so he stayed and let himself be doted upon.

“I love you, Truthless Recluse.” His voice was far too soft and loving, speaking so affectionately as if the man he claimed to love was some divine being, but he was not.

“No, you do not.”

And he didn't, because he simply loved the idea of him and nothing more; the Truthless Recluse is not someone who could be loved and is not someone who could love. So he buried his face into the Sage's chest, not because he loved him, simply because it was cold outside and he was warm.

Notes:

Maybe if ppl like this I'll make another one shot to a similar concept but not like a sequal or anything. theres just a few ideas here I wanna expand on better.

Chapter 2

Notes:

Okay so I lied I made this another chapter :p I tried to make it similar to chapter 1 just a different perspective so enjoy ig

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The Sage of Truth was in love.

He was in love with the one and only Truthless Recluse.

That in itself wasn't a problem, not at all! The Sage of Truth felt no shame in his love for the other man. The only problem was that the Truthless Recluse kept denying the Sage's feelings as a lie.

Now they weren't, of course not. But the Truthless Recluse seemed so sure of this that it was his only reply to the Sage's confessions. The Sage was not swayed; however, he was determined to have his love be known and believed, and he would continue to confess his feelings for as long as it took. The only thing that would stop him is a proper rejection of his feelings, which he has not yet received, and he knew full well that the Recluse was not against rejecting him.

That's why, on a hot summer day, the Sage was as close as the Recluse would allow. He had already tried to give his advice on the thick robes the man wore, but he was met with a harsh glare, so he refrained for the moment. Instead, he had started fanning the Recluse with a small paper fan; he really did not want him to have a heat stroke.

The Sage has already attempted to kiss the Recluse a few times, each time he would pull away and grumble about the heat or that he was “gross”. But the Sage could not disagree more. His irritability showed on his face, and strands of blonde hair stuck to wet skin. But the Sage could not look away; after all, every beautiful piece of art is meant to be admired.

The Recluse did not share his sentiments.

Unlike in more inclement weather, where the Recluse would allow himself to receive affections, the summer seemed to dampen any and all of these feelings with its heat. He did not want to be touched for too long, and he did not want to be kissed anywhere because he was hot and gross. Well, the Sage would agree with the hot sentiment but nothing more.

“You should really consider new summer clothes.” He continued to fan the other man as he lay flat on the floor.

“And what do you know?” He grumbled, shooting a sharp glare.

“Oh, I know a lot, my dear.” His look was nothing but soft and kind in return, “dark, heavy robes are not ideal, you'll sweat off 20 pounds just lying here.”

The Recluse could only roll his eyes, but the Sage was not dissuaded. He leaned over and kissed him before his next words.

“Of course, you could always take off what you have on.” He was instantly met with a shove.

It wasn't too hard, but he let himself be pushed back as he laughed. He was willing to excuse the Recluse's red cheeks as the temperature rather than embarrassment. The Recluse looked very unamused and turned away from the Sage.

“Hm, but really dear, I can get you some more appropriate clothes for the heat. I hate to see you suffer like this.” He put his hand over the Recluse's who surprisingly didn't pull away.

There was no response at first; the sage just quietly ran his thumb over the other’s hand as the Recluse contemplated his words. The Sage then lifted his hand to place a small kiss upon his fingers, causing the Recluse to look back at him once more.

“That's gross,” he did not pull away.

“I disagree”, a smile and another kiss.

The Recluse gave a heavy sigh, “Just do what you like, in regards to clothing, I mean, we both know you do that anyway.”

Despite the insult, the Sage looked overjoyed, leaning over the Recluse now, incredibly close despite the oppressive heat.

“Ah! You won't regret this, my dear!”

Before the Recluse could respond, he was interrupted with kiss after kiss. The Recluse pushed him back just enough to breathe, but the Sage's arms were already firmly around his waist.

“It's too hot for this, let go.” His hands were still firmly on the other's shoulders, but they did not push him back further.

“But it is never the wrong weather to love you,” he let out a breathy laugh.

Any more retorts were once again smothered out with another lengthy kiss. He knew the Recluse would adamantly deny wrapping his arms around his neck, but the Sage didn't have to ask because he was oh so aware of everything the Recluse would give him.

The room was hot and sticky, the air heavy and oppressive from the humidity. Affection was not convenient; it was never truly convenient with the Recluse, who refused to even believe in the Sage's love for him. But it was never about the convenience; it was about him.

The Recluse eventually pushed him back, catching his breath. His expression was clearly annoyed, but his flushed face and dilated pupils gave him away. The only way the Sage would ever truly know he was enjoying himself.

“You're a ridiculous fool.”

The Sage could only hum with his far too soft gaze. He didn't disagree; perhaps he was. So instead, he lazily fixed the Recluse's hair as much as he could, pulling the strands from sticking to his forehead and twisting them around his finger. It really seemed like this man was endlessly beautiful in any situation.

“I love you, Truthless Recluse.”

“No, you do not.”

But he did, even when the weather or the Recluse himself didn't make it easy, he loved him. And he would keep telling him over and over until he understood just how loved he was.

Notes:

I love whatever is wrong with these freaks