Author's Note: One, I haven't actually played Destiny. Two, I'm so late in writing for this pairing (it needs more love!). Three, uh... don't read it if you have a thing against BL? It's just fanfiction, meep...

I apologize for any OoC... I only have ToW as a reference XD

"Huh? Oh, Leon… It's nothing. Rutee's just messing around. I ain't crying or anything."

It was a moment of weakness. He gave in. Yet his reply was firm, "I don't hate you," albeit out of the blue and irrelevant. Hopefully Stahn wouldn't mind. Maybe Stahn would even understand.

He grimaced as sad tearful eyes looked up at him. The way those eyelashes fluttered in surprise, the way a flicker of hope gleamed in hopeful pools of blue – it drove him mad with guilt. Guilt, of course, had this nasty habit that fueled him with the desire to be rid of said guilt. He had no choice but to submit to the way it burned through his pride. It ate away like acid, tearing down any walls he'd thrown up around himself.

Leon hated how vulnerable his words made him. He spoke in earnest, not bothering to cover up with an arrogant smirk or roll of the eyes, anything that would make him out to be lying. Because when he lied, Leon could tell himself he hadn't been trying his hardest. He was allowed to fail when he gave no true attempt. So here he was, spilling his heart out to his rival.

It only made sense for Leon to drop his guard. A grateful pair of arms flung themselves around his lithe frame, knocking him to the ground. Pain echoed from his lips, but it did little to help. Try as he might, Leon could not push himself up. Not with this brute upon him. It was almost endearing. If not for his following comment: "You're so tiny, Leon. It's cute."

He voiced his outrage in a bark, "I am not cute! And who are you calling short?" Redness filled his cheeks as that annoying chuckle rang in his ears. It wasn't condescending like the men he had often worked with. It was pure, filled with laughter and joy. Stahn was so naïve, so noble. It didn't matter what his background was, the fact that he wasn't as well-educated as others.

Hell, Stahn knew a lot more than the stuffiest scholars in all of Erther. "I didn't say you were short. I mean… if you were any bigger, you wouldn't fit in my arms like this."

In an attempt to save face, Leon rebuked fiercely, "Don't hug me like a possession, you hick!"

Silence followed. Were his arms free from Stahn's vice-like grip, he would've smacked himself. Everyone knew how sensitive the hero was about those sorts of comments, yet habit had bred itself in Leon's mind. It felt so natural to poke fun at Stahn for his shortcomings, his upbringing his only one. Leon was envious.

And when those arms removed themselves from him, Leon found himself yearning for his touch, his senseless, sincere warmth. Often times he held too much pride to chase 

after others, thinking them to be at his every beck and call. He cursed vehemently when his legs betrayed such a notion and chased after Stahn.

Leon never knew the other to be quite so sensitive. As he ran, he wondered what brought about the gradual change. Although known for his swordsmanship, the sword prodigy was insightful enough to finally pick up on what was wrong.

To be scorned by a loved one, time and time again; it was a wonder Stahn hadn't finally broken down. He meant nothing to Leon, he was just a target for his quips, an outlet for his rage, and only a friend when no one else was around. Why was he so attracted to the young knight? Could it be masochism? He retched at the idea, scolding himself for such thoughts.

No, it was something else that compelled him to seek out Leon. At first it had been out of camaraderie. Leon rejected such advances so it soon became out of pity. When that didn't work out and Stahn still pursued him, he wondered what other reason there was.

Maybe it was for those fleeting smiles when Stahn complimented him and Leon muttered, "Idiot…" with the faintest blush. Or the times they'd spar and Leon never suspected it when Stahn let him win; the look of pride and triumph on such a lonely face was more than worth it. He wanted to make Leon smile. That was why he kept going back to him.

It was love, wasn't it? That's why it hurt so much. Leon caused him so much pain.

"Finally. I caught up to you. Where do you think you're going, Stahn?"

Yet it never outweighed the flustered beating of his heart.

The response to his question sounded so desperate to please, "I didn't want to be in your way. Seeing as how I'm just some country bumpkin." Lies, Stahn told himself lies. And it was all because Leon had been helping in this grand scheme to delude him. No, he wasn't a mere helper. He had initiated it.

It took him all he of his self-control to refrain from blurting out his feelings. There was no trust between them yet. He'd have to be careful with his words, something he'd never done with Stahn before. "If you were in my way, I would've killed you by now." Show no signs of immediate change, be yourself, he thought, don't scare him off, though.

Stahn murmured, "You're more than capable of that, aren'tcha?"

"No. I would never do that." The words resounded, and worked a little magic. At least now, he had Stahn's attention.

"What do you mean, Leon?"

He looked to the side, avoiding Stahn's gaze. "Because I care. I won't hurt you – I can't bring myself to do that!" Reluctantly he thought it would be best to meet his eyes now. "Not anymore."

Nothing else was said. Those arms held him, more gently than before, fearful of making a mistake. Then Leon offered reassurance, hugging him back. He sighed in relief, then smiled, holding this one for more than a mere second or two.

"You're so shy." Leon scowled and instead of letting his anger get the best of him, he silenced him with a kiss.

Stahn knew why he kept coming back now – even though it was Leon who came to him this time.