wintersday (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wintersday) wrote2020-02-06 09:02 pm
wintersday) wrote2020-02-06 09:02 pm
Fic: Unfixed Stars
Title: Unfixed Stars
Fandom: Homestuck
Major Characters/Pairings: Sollux/Feferi
Wordcount: 450
Rating: PG
POV: Third person
Summary: Out beyond Alternia's sharp edges, there's still a place for something sweet.
Notes: Vaguely Post-canon, but everybody lives.
He flies her up to the top of the mesa, the wind a rush and the air still warmer than the water in the depths. By the time they reach the ledge, she’s already breathless from laughter, tingling from the psionic charge of his arms around her waist, and when they land, she can do nothing but look up and up in wonder. The sky is dark and endless, scattered with moonlit clouds and awash with stars. They shine like white sand kicked up in moonlit waters, as close to infinite as anything she’ll ever see.
“Never stargazed before, your majesty?” he says. His grin is lopsided, his thumbs stuck nonchalantly in his pockets, and she thinks it makes him happy to be able to show her something new.
“Beneath the waves? Starfish, maybe,” she says. “You must have, though, living on the surface.”
“Sometimes,” he says, and shrugs, suddenly evasive in a way that she doesn’t understand. And then she gets it, and it chills her. Had her ancestor ever felt joy like this, looking out from the bridge of her battleship across the span of her empire? She’d decided once that it didn’t matter, but – she’s not sure she gets to decide it doesn’t matter for him. She looks away from the sky and out across the wide desert, uncertain whether to pursue the ghost of a possibility that will never come to fruition or let it go. But he elbows her lightly, and that grin is back, only a little more shadowed than it had been.
“Hey,” he says. “They’re different here. The constellations. What they mean.”
He falls backwards and doesn’t land, floating effortlessly a few feet above the ground, and it strikes her that it means something, the way he’s so easy with his power in her presence. She wonders when he decided he didn’t need to hide.
She leans over him from behind to kiss his forehead, then pulls him down into her lap as she sinks to sit on the dusty ground. He yelps in surprise, and zaps her in retaliation, but shifts and settles into her arms like it was his idea in the first place – a warm, bright spark of a troll, all sharp elbows and bony knees, leaning back against her chest with a contented chrrr and looking up again at all that open sky.
What he’s thinking of, she doesn’t try to guess; he’ll tell her, if he wants, but the silence is comfortable, and what matters right now is night breeze and desert and the smell of his hair, the new futures spreading out like sky-roads and all the worlds she wants to see with him beside her.
Fandom: Homestuck
Major Characters/Pairings: Sollux/Feferi
Wordcount: 450
Rating: PG
POV: Third person
Summary: Out beyond Alternia's sharp edges, there's still a place for something sweet.
Notes: Vaguely Post-canon, but everybody lives.
He flies her up to the top of the mesa, the wind a rush and the air still warmer than the water in the depths. By the time they reach the ledge, she’s already breathless from laughter, tingling from the psionic charge of his arms around her waist, and when they land, she can do nothing but look up and up in wonder. The sky is dark and endless, scattered with moonlit clouds and awash with stars. They shine like white sand kicked up in moonlit waters, as close to infinite as anything she’ll ever see.
“Never stargazed before, your majesty?” he says. His grin is lopsided, his thumbs stuck nonchalantly in his pockets, and she thinks it makes him happy to be able to show her something new.
“Beneath the waves? Starfish, maybe,” she says. “You must have, though, living on the surface.”
“Sometimes,” he says, and shrugs, suddenly evasive in a way that she doesn’t understand. And then she gets it, and it chills her. Had her ancestor ever felt joy like this, looking out from the bridge of her battleship across the span of her empire? She’d decided once that it didn’t matter, but – she’s not sure she gets to decide it doesn’t matter for him. She looks away from the sky and out across the wide desert, uncertain whether to pursue the ghost of a possibility that will never come to fruition or let it go. But he elbows her lightly, and that grin is back, only a little more shadowed than it had been.
“Hey,” he says. “They’re different here. The constellations. What they mean.”
He falls backwards and doesn’t land, floating effortlessly a few feet above the ground, and it strikes her that it means something, the way he’s so easy with his power in her presence. She wonders when he decided he didn’t need to hide.
She leans over him from behind to kiss his forehead, then pulls him down into her lap as she sinks to sit on the dusty ground. He yelps in surprise, and zaps her in retaliation, but shifts and settles into her arms like it was his idea in the first place – a warm, bright spark of a troll, all sharp elbows and bony knees, leaning back against her chest with a contented chrrr and looking up again at all that open sky.
What he’s thinking of, she doesn’t try to guess; he’ll tell her, if he wants, but the silence is comfortable, and what matters right now is night breeze and desert and the smell of his hair, the new futures spreading out like sky-roads and all the worlds she wants to see with him beside her.