Archive of Our Own ^beta

G'raha can't feel his hand.

It's there, of course. But when he tries to move it, nothing happens. Why would it? It's crystal, not flesh. Light passes through it, making everything glitter blue and gold around him.

He blinks. His hand twitches. Gingerly, he lifts it off his lap and turns it over. From an outside perspective, his hand is perfect, unmarred. His nails are cut short the way he likes. A mole stands out on the side, though he can't really see it without turning his wrist back and forth.

Slowly, carefully, G'raha bends each of his fingers. One by one, then all at once. He stretches out his hand, then balls it into a fist, hard enough to hurt. His nails leave half-moons in his palm.

"Raha? What are you doing?"

G'raha starts to put his hand down, but Cálei catches it, fingers curling over his. He's warm. Always has been.

"Did your hand fall asleep again?" Cálei asks.

"Mm." G'raha squeezes Cálei's fingers. "I'm fine. You needn't worry."

"I always worry." Cálei brings their joined hands up to his lips and presses a kiss against his skin. "How often is it happening?"

"Not as much. Truly, there is no need for concern. My mind will adjust, in time. There is nothing to do but wait." G'raha smiles. "Though I know that's your least favorite answer."

"You're telling me. Speaking of which, I have good news and bad news."

Despite the scowl that accompanies Cálei's words, G'raha can't help but smile. Though his time back home on the Source has been brief, he's beginning to grow accustomed to life as a Scion. Here, in the Rising Stones, there's no end of things to do, whether it's running errands for Tataru, cleaning out the storeroom, or joining the Scions for a meal.

And despite the many people who rely on him, Cálei has hardly left G'raha's side. At first he'd insisted he wanted to help get G'raha acclimated, but eventually he'd admitted he simply didn't want to part from him. Not that G'raha much wants to separate from him in return. Their last moments on the First had been bittersweet, and though G'raha had hoped to wake safely on the Source, he hadn't been positive it would work. That he's been granted this second chance is a gift beyond measure.

"Go on, then," G'raha says. "What's the bad news?"

"The bad news is that we can't go to Kugane like I hoped."

This is a disappointment; Cálei has told him no end of stories about the Far East, and G'raha dearly wishes to see it for himself. But only one of them can teleport there safely, and it is not easy to find the time to travel that distance. "We'll go eventually," G'raha says. "There's no rush. What's the good news?"

Cálei smiles. "You said you wanted to see Ishgard, right?"

G'raha's ears perk up. He's longed to see Ishgard perhaps more than any other place in Eorzea. He's read Heavensward so many times that he can imagine every spire of that great city. By the time he'd visited it, in the Eighth Umbral Calamity, it had been a shell of its former self.

"I'd love to visit," G'raha says. "What's the occasion?"

"You've heard about the Firmament project, right? Wait, maybe you haven't. It's this big initiative to rebuild parts of Ishgard that were destroyed in the war, give people new places to live. Anyway, they hold events every now and then to drum up interest. Francel — one of the Hallienarte scions — runs the project. He sent a letter when he heard I was back. Wants me to make an appearance."

"That's all? I'd have thought they would ask for your aid in the reconstruction." Cálei has no small skill with the trades.

"Well, technically he asked, but I wasn't planning on it." Cálei frowns. "It's not much of a vacation for you if I spend the whole time hammering out ingots or sawing lumber."

Perhaps not, but it would certainly give G'raha an appealing view. He does love watching Cálei at work. Though he has little desire to sit idle himself. "I'd be happy to help wherever it's needed. How long do these events usually last?"

"Week or two? Not that long. Really, if it wasn't for the war with Garlemald taking people away from Ishgard, it'd be done already. They've been working on it since Nidhogg was slain." Cálei peers at him. "You really don't mind coming to help?"

"Hardly. 'Tis the very least I can do." G'raha smiles. "When do we leave?"

———

Coerthas has gotten no less cold in his years away.

Despite the chill, which manages to seep through the layers he's wearing, G'raha cannot help the joy that fills his heart to be traveling through the highlands again. The road from Mor Dhona to Ishgard is well-traveled, in this age, with few beastkin to harry their path.

Not as it was when they last traversed these lands together. Though the memory is distant and faded, G'raha has glimpses of familiarity as they pass through the central highlands. There Cálei had fought off a wolf. Here they'd rested for the night, nestled close to their chocobos for warmth. At this crossroads they'd stopped and stared at the map for half a bell. All in pursuit of Cálei's past.

If Cálei has the same flashes of memory, he doesn't mention it. Perhaps it's for the best. For all the good that had come out of it, that time had been difficult for his beloved, and he does not wish to remind him of painful memories.

Still, it's incredible to see more of Coerthas. In his travels with Cálei all those years ago, they hadn't gone north enough to visit Camp Dragonhead, but G'raha recognizes it immediately from the stories. The massive wall bisecting the valley, the enormous stone battlements, the aetheryte gently spinning. Here the Warrior of Light had come during his darkest hour, when all thought him a traitor to the realm.

The guards recognize Cálei at once, welcoming him and offering to see to his chocobo. "Just passing through," Cálei reassures them, "on our way to Ishgard. Any word that needs sending?"

One of the guards gapes at him. "Surely you have better things to do than deliver mail, my lord!"

"Why not? It's on the way. Really, I don't mind."

G'raha hides a smile behind his scarf. How very like Cálei, to offer help even for the smallest of things.

He dismounts his chocobo and heads up to the aetheryte, careful not to slip on the snowy steps. A flicker of aether is all it takes to attune, but G'raha remains there a moment, looking around at the settlement. Though the Dragonsong War is ended, there's a small group of knights going through a training exercise on the other side of the camp. Still seeking to protect their lands from any who would invade, now and ever.

He wonders if the Crystarium guard is doing the same. Even with the night safely returned and the sin eaters vanquished, do they still seek to protect the place they call home? They must, he thinks. Lyna won't suffer anything less.

G'raha smiles to himself at the thought of her. He wonders what she'd think if she saw all this snow. Perhaps he'll write and tell her about it. He may not be able to visit, but Cálei can still cross to the First in his stead.

By the time G'raha returns to the courtyard, Cálei has managed to wrangle a stack of letters from the awestruck guards. "Ready to press on?" Cálei asks.

G'raha glances at the sky. It's too cloudy to make out the sun, but they've been riding since they left the Observatorium this morning. "Can we make it by nightfall?"

"Easily. Plus I'd rather have a full day in the Firmament. Unless you're tired?"

Before Cálei can inquire as to his wellbeing, G'raha climbs up onto his chocobo. "Never better," he assures his beloved. "Let's go."

———

At the first glimpse of Ishgard, disappearing into distant clouds, G'raha can but stare.

Towers upon towers, rising so high he can't even see the tops. In the twilight, the entire city seems to glow, glistening like something out of a dream. In some respects it reminds him of Eulmore, but where Eulmore had been a hodgepodge of different architectural sensibilities, Ishgard is uniform.

Gods. It hadn't looked anything like this when he'd last saw it. Entire sections of the city had collapsed into the Sea of Clouds, and what few spires still stood had been battered by the elements. This Ishgard looks more like a painting than something real.

"Lot to take in, huh?" Cálei says. "Wait 'til we get inside."

G'raha simply follows him, lost for words.

———

G'raha had expected to stick out in Ishgard, and is thoroughly surprised when it proves not to be the case. Even at the late hour, the streets are bustling with all variety of people, from the tiny Lalafells hurrying up the street to the Roegadyn hauling a number of logs over her shoulder. There's even a pair of Viera in deep discussion over a sack full of grain. No one pays the pair of them any mind, which seems to give Cálei some relief.

"I have a room at the Forgotten Knight, but they might have given it away with so many people in town," Cálei muses.

"Would the Fortemps not take you in?" G'raha asks.

"They would, of course, but I hate to bother them. Still, we might not have a choice..."

He winds his way through the busy streets, G'raha trailing after him. As much as G'raha wants to look around and take it all in, it's hard to pick out the landmarks he's read about from quick glimpses. He'll have to ask Cálei for a tour later.

G'raha can hear laughter from the tavern before they even turn the corner and see it. As they approach, a Hyur emerges, swaying on his feet. Cálei sidesteps him easily, letting the drunk continue on his way through the plaza.

The door opens up onto a packed balcony, where a handful of Miqo'te and a lone Au Ra are huddled together, deep in discussion. G'raha follows Cálei down the stairs, careful not to hit anyone with his pack. He briefly loses sight of Cálei in the throng of people below, before spotting him exchanging a few words with what seems to be the innkeeper.

"You're damn lucky Francel said you were coming!" the man exclaims. "I could have sold your room ten times over!"

"Sorry, sorry," Cálei laughs. "I'll make it up to you."

The man waves him off, unbothered. Cálei catches G'raha's eye and leads him to a back hallway, then around a few tight corners. There's even a few people back here, including a couple who seem more interested in each other than any passerby, but at last Cálei stops at a particular door. Only when they're inside does the noise from the bar begin to die down, and even then there's the occasional spike of laughter.

"In hindsight," Cálei says, "I probably should have realized everyone helping with the Firmament would come here. It's usually a lot quieter. And less, uh... diverse."

G'raha can't help but smile at that. "I thought we'd be the only Miqo'te in town."

"If Francel hadn't invited half of Eorzea to come help, you'd probably be right."

Cálei steps forward into the room, frowning a little. It's sparsely furnished; there's a dresser on one end of the room, with a bed opposite. The curtains are drawn over the window, and a few logs lie cold in the fireplace. Cálei waves a hand in that direction, and the logs alight.

"Get comfortable, it'll take a bit to warm up," Cálei says. "I'll go see about some dinner."

"I don't mind helping—"

"It's fine, Raha. Really." Cálei worms his way out of his pack and tosses it on the desk. "I'll be back in a few."

G'raha crouches before the fireplace and takes a moment to warm his hands, then gingerly works the woolen cap off his head. His ears are frozen stiff, and as soon as his fingers are warm, he rubs an ear to try and get some feeling back.

Only when he can safely move both ears again does he rise from the fire and look around the room. There's almost nothing to mark this room as belonging to Cálei, just a few rapiers collecting dust by the window. He opens the dresser, curious, and finds a few shirts that look to be Cálei's size.

But that's it. If it wasn't for the rapiers, G'raha would think this room belonged to someone else entirely. He examines one, but he doesn't know enough about red magic to identify why Cálei stopped using it.

He removes his own pack and sets it on the dresser, then puts away the clothes he'd brought. Cálei had told him to pack light, but now that they're here G'raha doubts they'll be leaving so quickly. He wants to explore this city for himself, and better understand what Cálei had gone through in his time here.

Eventually there's a knock on the door. G'raha opens it to find his beloved cradling two bowls of soup against his chest. "Still sure you don't need help?" G'raha asks, wry.

"Oh, hush." Cálei sets the bowls down on the desk, frowning at the single chair. "I guess we'll have to eat on the bed. It's too crowded to eat out in the tavern."

"We'll make do," G'raha says. Luckily the bed has enough room for both of them. G'raha winds his tail around Cálei's waist as he leans back against the wall beside him. The soup is a simple vegetable broth, and though it's a little too hot, G'raha doesn't mind.

They eat quietly, spoons clinking against their bowls. Between the soup and Cálei's comforting warmth beside him, G'raha no longer feels the chill that seems to permeate Ishgard. He unwinds his scarf from around his neck and sets it aside, then leans his head on Cálei's shoulder. Cálei makes a low noise in his throat and slips an arm around him.

"Have you always stayed here?" G'raha asks.

"More or less," Cálei says. "At first it was because I didn't want to be around anyone else. This place is usually a lot quieter. Ishgard didn't exactly get a lot of visitors during the war. It's strange seeing so many people here."

"For me, as well." G'raha gazes down into his bowl. "When I visited, during the Eighth Umbral Calamity, the city was in ruins. 'Tis more than strange to see it now."

"I didn't know you'd come here."

"Briefly. We were searching for records of your time here, to get a better idea of when I should pull you over to the First."

"Still hard for me to wrap my head around all that, you know," Cálei huffs. "Probably for the best you didn't pull me over during the war, though. Things were complicated enough already."

"You told me some of it," G'raha says. "Yet... I would know what you endured. I know I am at fault for part of it."

Cálei doesn't answer for a moment, looking down into his soup. "It wasn't all you," he says. "I was heartbroken, yes, but that wasn't the only thing to go wrong. Midgardsormr took my Crystals away; I got blamed for poisoning the sultana. It was one bad thing after another, and I just... I couldn't take it. I didn't want to be me anymore. All anyone cared about was the Warrior of Light, so that's who I became."

He leans his head back against the wall. "The worst part is, it was easy to stop caring. To just go where I was told. I wasn't anything but a puppet. It didn't matter who tried to reach me. I didn't let anyone in. ...Except Estinien, I suppose. Not that that was good for either of us."

The Azure Dragoon? G'raha knew they had fought together in the Dragonsong War, but nothing more. "You were close?"

"Uh. Yeah, you could say that." Cálei shifts beside him, tail twitching. "We, er. Used to sleep together."

This is news to G'raha. How it had escaped mention in all the documents he'd collected about Cálei's life, he has no idea. "I see."

"Sorry, I thought— well, everybody knows about it, I figured you knew too—"

"You needn't apologize," G'raha says. "'Tis a surprise, nothing more. I was unaware you were so close with the Azure Dragoon."

"Close isn't really the right word." Cálei sighs and sets aside his empty soup bowl. "Back then, Estinien and I were— well, similar. Single-minded in pursuit of our goals. We understood each other. Being together was an escape from our problems. It was what I needed, at the time. But it wasn't good for either of us."

Self-loathing glimmers behind his words. G'raha turns to him, gently placing a hand on Cálei's cheek. "If you wish to talk about it, I'll listen," he murmurs. "But you needn't tell me anything. Your secrets are yours to keep."

"It's not a secret, exactly. It's just... hard to talk about." Cálei places a hand over G'raha's and squeezes. "I didn't like the person I was with Estinien. We were both in pain, and made each other suffer more for it. At the time it was cathartic, but looking back—" He grimaces. "All it really did was make me feel worse."

G'raha swallows down his own guilt. This is about Cálei's feelings, not his. There's no use dwelling on the choices that brought them here.

"And now?" G'raha asks.

Cálei smiles, faint. "Now I have you. And I won't lose you again."

G'raha leans in to press a kiss against Cálei's lips. "You won't," he murmurs. "Not ever."

Cálei's lips part against his as his arm winds around him. G'raha starts to shift, intending on climbing into his lap, only for the soup bowl to jostle beside him. Cálei laughs and untangles himself from G'raha, then climbs off the bed and gathers up their bowls.

"Stay right there," Cálei says.

G'raha simply smiles. "I'm not going anywhere."

———

It's strange being back here.

Cálei can't remember the last time he stayed in this room, much less with someone else. His last partner here had to have been Estinien, but when? Probably before Thordan was slain. He never would have expected that he'd come back here with G'raha.

Yet here G'raha is, as if the years apart didn't even happen. As if neither of them had ever left the Source at all.

Cálei sets the bowls down on the desk and takes a moment to rummage through his pack. He takes a moment to pull off his heavy sweater and kick off his shoes before returning to G'raha on the bed. G'raha leans up to kiss him, humming softly as Cálei licks against his lips.

"Arms up," Cálei murmurs.

G'raha obeys, letting Cálei tug off his shirt. Cálei tosses it aside idly and reaches down to push G'raha's shoes off, letting them thud onto the wooden floor. G'raha works at his clothes in return, undoing Cálei's belt and sliding warm fingers beneath his shirt as he pushes it up. By now the fire has heated the room, and Cálei barely feels a chill as his skin is bared.

Or perhaps it's simply the warmth of the man beside him. After moons of making love with the Crystal Exarch, Cálei's still getting used to G'raha's new-old body. He still half-expects G'raha's fingers to be cold and unyielding, or to find a new streak of crystal across his skin. That G'raha has his own body again is a gift he'd never expected.

And what a body it is. G'raha fits so neatly into his arms, almost as if he was made for him. He's smaller than Cálei, but that just makes it easier to pull him close and kiss him senseless. He reaches behind G'raha's head to undo his braid, fingers combing through his hair.

"Cálei," G'raha breathes against his lips. "Cálei."

Gods, he wants him. Hadn't even realized how much until he felt G'raha arch against him. He wants to hear G'raha moan his name until he's out of breath. Wants to feel G'raha shudder in his arms. Already he can feel G'raha's cock stiffening against his through his pants. He wants to make G'raha come undone, until all he can do is clutch at him and beg for more.

G'raha, it seems, has the same idea. A hand slips between their bodies and cups Cálei's bulge. "Want you," G'raha breathes.

Cálei rolls his hips forward into G'raha's hand as he kisses him again, deeper. G'raha arches against him, but doesn't stop stroking him through his pants. "Tell me," Cálei murmurs. "Tell me what you want."

"You. Want you, more than anything. Get undressed, hurry up—"

"You're impatient today," Cálei hums. "What if I want to take my time?"

In response, G'raha shoves Cálei's pants (and smallclothes) down over his hips. Cálei laughs and rises up to shuck them off the rest of the way, then divests G'raha of his remaining clothing. He presses him back down against the bed as he grinds his hips against G'raha's, groaning at the slide of G'raha's cock against his.

Yeah, okay, so maybe he doesn't really want to take his time. They've been sharing a bed at the Rising Stones, but privacy there is a lot harder to come by. Here they can do anything they like, with no need to hold back.

G'raha's hand slides between their bodies again, this time wrapping around both their cocks. He works them both against his palm, making a low noise of satisfaction. Cálei rolls his hips forward, heat rising in his groin as G'raha's cock pushes against his.

He kisses G'raha again, deeper, pinning him to the bed. G'raha wraps his other arm around Cálei's shoulders to pull him closer. It's so easy to lose himself in this, in him. Cálei can still hear the low rumble of conversation from the tavern, but it all seems to fade away as he looks into G'raha's eyes. Here, there's nothing but him.

"You're mine," Cálei breathes against his lips. "All mine."

"Yours," G'raha murmurs. "As you are mine, my love." He rocks his hips up against Cálei's, fingers tightening around their cocks. "Want you, so much—"

"You have me. Now and always." Cálei threads his fingers through G'raha's hair. "Let me please you."

Rather than answer, G'raha shoves at Cálei's hips and rolls them both over. G'raha wastes no time in straddling him, hand wrapping back around their cocks. They're both leaking by now, and G'raha smears his fingers across Cálei's cockhead before stroking him firmly, his own cock pushing against Cálei's.

Cálei can't help but reach for him in return, cupping G'raha's hips and sliding back to squeeze his ass. G'raha's tail coils in delight as he grinds down against him.

"Touch me," G'raha urges. "More, please—"

As if Cálei could deny him. He kneads G'raha's ass in his palms, his own cock twitching at the breathy little noises G'raha lets out. One hand slides up to stroke the base of G'raha's tail, which simply makes G'raha moan outright and squeeze their cocks tighter.

But Cálei knows G'raha wants more. He fumbles on the bed for the jar he'd fished out of his pack. It doesn't take long to slick up his fingers and slide them back between G'raha's thighs, then gently push inside him. G'raha's breath hitches, his eyes dark with arousal.

It's only been a few days since they last made love, but it feels like it's been so much longer. Or maybe it's simply the fact that they're here, in a bed Cálei hasn't slept in for moons. Maybe it's that G'raha is nothing like the last man he'd brought here.

G'raha rises up on his knees a few ilms, spreading his thighs to give Cálei a better angle to finger him. Cálei's fingers slide deeper, curling inside him to make G'raha shudder with want.

"Feels good, huh?" Cálei murmurs. "Want more?"

"Want you," G'raha says, pushing his hips down onto Cálei's fingers. "Want your cock—"

"Soon," Cálei promises. "Get me ready."

G'raha's fingers scrabble on the bed for the jar. He wastes no time in wrapping his hand back around Cálei's cock, smearing the lubricant over his skin. Each slide of his hand just makes Cálei ache, but he holds himself back, knowing how much better it's about to be.

He squeezes G'raha's thigh as he withdraws his fingers, pulling him towards his cock. G'raha takes a moment to position himself, then pushes down onto Cálei's cock. Cálei is careful not to move his own hips, letting G'raha take his sizable cock at his own pace. Yet G'raha is undeterred, pushing down on him until Cálei fills him completely. His tail quivers as he settles in Cálei's lap, flush against him.

Gods above does he feel good. For a moment, Cálei can't do anything but bask in the tight heat of G'raha's body. They've made love countless times, but it never stops being incredible. There's little better than feeling G'raha utterly envelop him.

But he knows this is only the beginning. Cálei squeezes G'raha's hip, encouraging. "Ride me."

G'raha braces himself against Cálei's navel and rises up on his knees, then pushes his hips back down. He starts a slow, measured rhythm, gasping every time Cálei fills him. His pace is a surprise, but not unwelcome, and Cálei allows himself to simply enjoy it.

Not that he can quite keep himself from teasing. He wraps a hand around G'raha's straining cock, grinning as his beloved gasps and tightens around him. He strokes G'raha loosely, not giving him the relief he desperately wants.

"Cálei," G'raha groans, pushing his cock forward into Cálei's hand. "Please, more—"

"Not yet," Cálei says. "Come on, Raha. Ride me."

G'raha's thighs tremble with his desire. He keeps rocking his hips against Cálei's, his pace steadily increasing. His tail thumps against the bed as he snaps their hips together.

And all the while, he feels incredible. Sex with G'raha has always been good, but they've been together long enough now that Cálei knows exactly what they both like. He knows G'raha will moan and clutch at him as he reaches back to stroke the base of G'raha's tail. He knows how to match G'raha's pace with his own, rolling his hips up to push even deeper as G'raha slides down on his cock.

And he can feel as G'raha's need begins to rise. G'raha's cock throbs against Cálei's palm as he rides him harder, not pausing between one stroke and the next. Hadn't expected G'raha to get this close this quickly. Cálei could deny him, make him wait for it, but there's something alluring about knowing that G'raha wants him this urgently. How can he possibly keep such pleasure from him?

He squeezes G'raha's hip with one hand as he continues stroking his cock with the other. "Come on, Raha," Cálei breathes.

G'raha's only answer is a gasp. He's flushed, pale skin rosy with his need. He speeds up, slamming his hips down against Cálei's faster and faster until at last his body goes taut. Pleasure ripples through him, wracking through his body as Cálei milks his orgasm from him.

It’s a shame Cálei isn't closer to the edge himself, so that he could share in G'raha's pleasure. But there's a lot to be said for being able to focus wholly on pleasing his beloved, ensuring he reaches the very heights of bliss. Truly, G'raha is a sight when he comes, his spine arched back, thighs shaking with the sheer force of his release. It's far from the first time Cálei's seen it, but he'll never get tired of the sight.

Gradually G'raha comes back to himself, panting for breath. He slumps atop Cálei, clutching at him as if he's the only thing that's real. Cálei simply smiles up at him, reaching up to brush G'raha's bangs out of his eyes. "Good?"

"Perfect," G'raha sighs. "Gods, you feel so good."

"That's my line." Cálei wiggles his hips, basking in the heat of G'raha's body. "I could do this all night."

G'raha chuckles, though it's caught in a groan as Cálei moves inside him. His eyes widen. "You're still—? I didn't realize—"

Cálei presses a finger against G'raha's lips, silencing him. "Shh. Just means I'm not done with you yet."

G'raha kisses his finger and smiles down at him. "I'm yours, my love. However you want."

How does he want him? It's entirely enjoyable to have G'raha ride him, but it's a little less fun now that G'raha's come. Instead Cálei guides G'raha up and off his cock, then rolls them back over. G'raha's arms wind around his shoulders as Cálei presses him back down into the bed with a searing kiss.

"Spread your legs," Cálei purrs.

G'raha does as he asks, breath hitching as Cálei pushes back inside him. He feels just as good from this angle, and Cálei doesn't hesitate to pin G'raha to the bed as he rocks his hips down against his.

"Fuck me," G'raha breathes against his lips. "Fuck me, please, Cálei—"

How could he possibly resist him? G'raha is so tight around his cock, hot and tight and perfect, and Cálei can't even think of denying himself what he wants most. He grabs G'raha by the hips to give himself better leverage and begins fucking him relentlessly, driving his cock as deep as he can on every thrust. G'raha writhes beneath him, fingers digging into his shoulders as he moans.

"Yes, yes, more—" G'raha gasps. "You feel so good—"

Gods, he loves doing this. G'raha always feels good, always, but it's best when he's urging him on, desperate for more. Especially now, when it's Cálei's pleasure he's focused on. It doesn't matter that G'raha's already reached his peak; he wants Cálei to enjoy this every bit as much as he had.

And is Cálei ever enjoying it. He loves fucking G'raha, always has, but the pleasure of his body is only one part of it. Far more intoxicating is the look in G'raha's eyes as he begs for more. He knows G'raha wants this as much as he does. Maybe more, sometimes. All because he loves him.

What could be better than that?

"I love you," Cálei breathes against G'raha's lips. "I love you, I love you, I love you—"

G'raha kisses him, one hand sinking into his hair. "Come for me," G'raha murmurs. "Come inside me—"

He's never been able to deny G'raha anything.

Cálei arches against him as pleasure wracks his body. He shoves his hips flush against G'raha's as he comes, filling him with one heavy pulse after another. G'raha holds him close, whispering quiet words of love as Cálei's release sweeps over him, never letting go.

Cálei feels somewhat dizzy, afterwards. He finds his face buried in G'raha's shoulder, his beloved stroking his hair. His cock twitches inside G'raha as a low current of pleasure seeps through him. He feels boneless, and it's all he can do to lift his head to kiss G'raha, lazy and soft.

"Love you too," G'raha hums against him. "So much, Cálei."

As much as he'd like to simply melt into G'raha's arms, Cálei can feel himself verging on too sensitive. He carefully withdraws from G'raha and lies down beside him, winding his arm back over G'raha's hip. G'raha smiles at him and leans in for a gentle kiss, tail twining with his.

"I'll never tire of this," G'raha says. "Of you. Every time is better than the last."

"Then it's a good thing I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me."

"I can think of nothing better."

Cálei squeezes his hip, grinning. "Nothing, huh?"

G'raha laughs, pulling Cálei in for another kiss. "You're insatiable."

"Only with you. Gods, Raha, you felt amazing. You are amazing. It's a wonder I ever get anything done, with you around."

"Speaking of which..." G'raha untangles their limbs long enough to grab the blanket from the end of the bed and tug it over them both. "As much as I'd love to spend all night making love, we've a busy day tomorrow."

"We don't have to go. We could just stay here." Even as he says it, Cálei knows they can't; he's given his word to Francel to make an appearance. Indeed, G'raha simply raises an eyebrow at him. Cálei sighs. "Okay, we can't stay here. But I wish we could. I swear, as soon as things calm down we're taking a vacation."

"Of course. But until then..."

"Yeah, yeah." Cálei kisses him again, quick and affectionate. "Good night, Raha."

"Good night, my love."

———

The tavern is considerably quieter the next morning. Cálei insists on ordering a traditional Ishgardian breakfast for them, consisting of a poached egg and a muffin topped with salmon. It's a filling meal, and one G'raha quite enjoys, but the real joy is Cálei's company. He's completely at home in Ishgard, as if he's been here for moons, and he readily offers to take G'raha on a tour later.

Thankfully, the Firmament is only a short walk from the tavern. As soon as they step out into the Brume G'raha can hear the din of hammers striking metal, but nothing quite prepares him for the full onslaught.

The Firmament is packed, with people filling every spare ilm of the space. Most are craftspeople hard at work, heads bent over their workbenches, but there seems to be an open market in the plaza, where a rousing trade of materials is ongoing. As they enter the Firmament, G'raha catches the tail end of a negotiation.

"Okay, that's eight hundred bottles of spring water to you, three stacks of skybuilder's ore for you— what did you say you want? You, the Hyur fellow!"

"Toads!" a burly Highlander hollers. "As many as you've got!"

"I've got toads!" a large Au Ra calls. "Fifty gil apiece!"

"I'll give 'em to you for forty-nine!" comes another voice.

Their voices are drowned out by a strange whirring noise. G'raha looks up as some sort of miniature airship flies over the plaza. It heads out over the rubble and disappears into the sky beyond. None of the people below take any notice of it, and indeed continue their negotiations without interruption.

Even Cálei looks unperturbed, though he's busy scanning the crowd in search of something. How he plans to make anything out in this mess, G'raha doesn't know, but after a moment Cálei seems to find what he's looking for and sets off. G'raha trots after him, careful not to trip over one of the workbenches scattered across the plaza — or one of the workers.

Cálei winds his way down the stone bridge leading out into the center of the rubble. "Francel!" he calls out.

An Elezen in a green coat and hat looks up from a huddle of people. "Cálei! Pray excuse me—" He pushes away from those he'd been talking to and approaches Cálei, beaming. "I'm so glad you could make it!"

"Did you invite everybody in Eorzea?" Cálei asks, laughing. "Last time wasn't anywhere near this crowded."

"Word seems to have spread of its own accord..." Francel looks sheepish. "I hardly expected so many to come to our aid. Much less you, with such short notice. I heard you were traveling?"

"Something like that. This is my partner, G'raha Tia."

G'raha bows his head. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance. This is all your doing, then?"

"Well, it wasn't entirely my idea, but I ended up overseeing the project. Someone has to coordinate everything. Speaking of which—" He glances at Cálei. "Do you have the time to assist? I don't want to drag you away from your own duties, but if you're able..."

"I can pitch in for a bit," Cálei says. "Not sure I can stay for the entire event, but I'll do what I can. Where do you need the most help?"

"Truthfully? Feeding everyone. We're short on culinarians, and there are a great many hungry skybuilders. I'm sure it lacks for your usual excitement, but—"

"Say nothing more," Cálei says. "Just point me in a direction and I'll take it from there."

Francel turns out to have a talent for logistics. In no time at all he's set Cálei up at a stall near the main plaza, redirected the incoming foodstuffs to him, and organized supplies for the actual cooking. Cálei wastes no time in getting started, boiling several huge pots of water.

"What do you want me to do?" G'raha asks.

"Oh, you don't have to help," Cálei says. "I can handle it—"

A botanist hefts a giant sack of rice onto the table. "You the cook?"

"That's me, just leave it by the rest there. Thanks." Cálei looks around at the quickly growing pile of ingredients, then glances back at G'raha. "Er. On second thought, I might need help."

G'raha chuckles and pushes back his sleeves. "I'll start washing the rice."

———

Between the two of them, they somehow manage to make a truly absurd number of meals. Almost as soon as Cálei finishes putting together a boxed lunch, a skybuilder snatches it up. The same goes for the bowls of soup G'raha sets out: none stay on the table for more than a minute before someone takes it.

At first, no one had paid Cálei himself much mind. It isn't until an older Elezen stops by that he gets recognized as the Warrior of Light, savior of Ishgard. "Saved my life, you did," the man says. "Gave up the sword after the war. Now I get to work on my needlework in peace."

After that, there's no end to the stream of curious onlookers. Some people seem surprised to see the Warrior of Light here, while G'raha overhears others gossiping about his looks. A few express disbelief that the realm's storied hero is happy to spend his day making food for everyone, while others thank him profusely. Through it all, Cálei maintains a kind smile, offering pleasantries and well-wishes to anyone who recognizes him.

Is this what it's like for him all the time? Cálei had attracted attention on the First, of course, but that was only to expected when one helped save the world. Cálei's deeds on the Source are no less thrilling, but G'raha hadn't realized he'd become so widely known already.

Meanwhile, it's strange to not be recognized beside him. Despite the hood he'd worn as the Exarch, G'raha had been recognized everywhere he'd gone on the First. Not that he'd expected otherwise, with the crystal marring his body. But the people here look right past him, with only a few offering a curious glance. G'raha doesn't mind, exactly; he can see the benefits of anonymity all too well. But it is something to get used to again.

Eventually, an Au Ra asks after him. "Who's your friend?"

"He's my partner," Cálei corrects. "This is G'raha Tia, a Scion of the Seventh Dawn."

"Oh! That's that group you work with, right?" She beams at G'raha. "You must be very proud of the Warrior of Light."

"I'm the one who's proud of him," Cálei says, before G'raha can answer. "G'raha is a truer hero than I've ever been."

"You exaggerate," G'raha says, flushing a bit at the high praise. "Our deeds can hardly compare."

"Who said anything about comparing?" Cálei sets aside the popoto he'd been chopping and reaches for G'raha's hand, squeezing gently. "I wouldn't be here without you."

G'raha squeezes back, unable to keep from smiling. Cálei is not rare with his praise, but it still makes G'raha glow to hear it. "Nor I, my love."

The Au Ra huffs out a laugh. "Well. I’ll leave you two to it."

Cálei smiles, sheepish, but before he can say anything the Au Ra disappears back into the crowd. Rather than dwell on it, Cálei reaches for the popotoes again. "Not much longer," he says. "Another bell or two and things should wrap up for the day. Sorry again that we ended up here."

"Please, it's fine," G'raha says. "It's been nice to contribute. It seems the turnout outpaced expectations considerably."

"No kidding. Means the work will get done a lot faster, though. Especially when so many people are in the area to help move rubble out of the way." Cálei finishes cutting up the popoto and tosses the pieces into the stewpot, then reaches for the next. "It's nice to see so many people coming together to help. Reminds me of the Crystarium, a little."

"It does, doesn't it." G'raha laughs to himself. "You should have seen it when we started. It was far less organized than this. I could have done with a Francel on the First."

Cálei smiles. "I'm sure he'd appreciate that."

———

Francel himself approaches them as the day winds to a close. The skybuilders have largely begun leaving for the day, with only a few staying to finish up their last few pieces. "Thank you again," Francel says, hands clasped together. "You've been a tremendous aid."

"It's no trouble at all," Cálei says. "Hungry? We still have some leftovers."

"Famished, in truth." Francel takes a bowl of stew gratefully. "You needn't stay, if you have other business. We can make do."

"That eager to get rid of me?" As Francel sputters a denial, Cálei laughs. "No, no, it's fine. I don't mind helping out. Been a while since I had to cook for so many people, but I'd rather nobody go hungry. And someone's got to make use of all this food."

"Perhaps we should be calling you a saint of the Firmament, rather than the Warrior of Light." Francel's smile is tinged with awe. "How do you do it?"

"One step at a time, same as anything else. But even saints need a break. We'll be back tomorrow, yeah?"

"Of course. Pray, take your ease. You have well earned it."

Cálei slips a hand into G'raha's and leads him out of the Firmament. "It's a little late, but if you still want that tour, I thought we could walk around the city a bit," Cálei says.

"I'd be delighted."

For a tour guide, Cálei knows almost none of the street names. He leads G'raha by memory, guiding him up to a district he calls the Pillars. Here G'raha has a significantly better view of his surroundings, from the golden sunset to the countless spires that stretch towards the sky.

They stick out more here; the skybuilders have little business up here, and those few they do meet on the streets appear to be native Ishgardians. Cálei pays no mind to their stares, and G'raha takes the lead from him.

Besides, there's plenty to look at. Cálei might not know the history behind every statue they pass, but he knows the people, and he doesn't hesitate to share stories of his time in Ishgard. Some of the stories aren't new — they'd had plenty of time on the First to share tales — but it's different, seeing the place they occurred. It's easier to understand now why Cálei closed himself off, when he'd first come here.

By the time they complete their circuit of the Pillars, the evening light has faded, and a light snow has begun to fall. They pause on one of the walkways overlooking the sheer drop that surrounds Ishgard, surrounded by the lights of the city.

"Thank you for bringing me here," G'raha says. "I have always wanted to see Ishgard in its prime. 'Tis plain how much its people care for it."

"They do. As do I." Cálei gazes back at the city, tail flicking behind him. "It's got its problems, same as anywhere else. But it's worth protecting. I'm glad I got to share it with you." He squeezes G'raha's hand. "What do you say we head back to the inn and warm up? We can always look around more tomorrow."

"Before or after we make meals all day?"

"I really didn't mean to sign up for that—"

"I know, my love." G'raha beams at him. "Just know that every day we stay extends our Kugane vacation by a week."

Cálei laughs and pulls G'raha into his arms. "Careful, or I might take you up on that." He presses a warm kiss to G'raha's lips, soft as the snow falling around them. "Love you, Raha."

"As I love you." G'raha allows him one more kiss before drawing away. "Come. Let's go warm up."

Hand in hand, they wander into Ishgard's dark night together.