Work Text:
“... Holy shit.” Qibli huffed, leaning back in the office chair. It rolled backwards an inch with the movement.
Winter sat on the bed, his usually-proper posture seemed to be “turned off” at the moment, in lieu of an anxious slouch. His slim fingers fiddled reflexively with his pendant. And his eyes, normally defensive or thoughtful, sat beneath furrowed brows with an apprehensive gleam.
“So?” He choked out.
“This is good, good shit.” Qibli enunciated, gesturing wildly at the computer screen, where a rough, but complete draft of part 1 of Winter's novel was displayed. “You're fantastic at settings, Winter. I felt like I was actually in the place. Your characters are wonderful, -especially Ford- and there was not a single grammar or spelling mistake to be spoken of.”
Winter looked so unbelievably relieved, Qibli didn't have the heart to voice the one correction he wanted to make.
“Can I ask you a couple questions about it?” Winter asked, reverting immediately to his proper and mildly angry self. He pulled out his phone, where his interview questions were.
“Of course!”
“Thank you.” He cleared his throat. “Were there any parts of the story where you found yourself 'skimming?'”
“Oh, uh... The description of the library was a little long, I guess I skimmed a little there. 'big fancy library' is an easy setting for me, I don't need much help forming an image.”
“Was there a description that stuck with you especially? Like, from anywhere in the book?”
Qibli chuckled. “When Chickadee's hair was described as 'basketball colored' stuck out a lot to me. That's a good metaphor.”
Winter's eyes sparkled a little at the compliment, but he focused back on his questions, trying to remain professional, and for a second, all Qibli could think was “Fuck, am I gay.”
The interview lasted a little longer before Winter finally asked:
“Pick one thing you would change about the plot or characters.”
“Dude, okay. Don't feel bad, because I know you absolutely care about this shit, but uh... your characters are ALL white, bruh.”
Winter's eyebrows shot up. “Oh my god...”
“It's cool, man. Just something to edit, y'know?”
“I don't know... How to write... Non-white characters. I've never been one before.”
“Heh. I have. I AM. Just write 'em like any other people. That's what they are! Only make them act different when people treat them different. Does racism exist in your story's universe?”
“No.”
“You're all set then, dude.”
“Okay...”
Winter's face was adorably flushed, beet red. Qibli wanted to say something about how cute he looked like this, (he took every chance he could find to tell his friends when they were looking nice, or when they did something cute. Especially when Winter was involved.) but he knew that Winter was genuinely embarrassed, and he didn't want to push the subject.
“Once that's fixed up, I think you should totally look for an editor, and it's a little early, but you might even look for a publisher! Do you remember at summer camp, that one counselor? Tsunami? The butch girl?”
“I... don't remember her.” He answered, locking his phone and setting it on the bedside table.
“Oh, huh. Do you remember Anemone?”
Winter's face drew itself into a sneer, which he fixed immediately. “Yeah I remember her. She was kind of a brat.”
“You know you can swear when it's just us, right?” Qibli teased.
“What? It's the truth! She's just a brat.”
“Uh, she's like the feminine equivalent of a fuckboy, but whatever. Anyway, she's Tsunami's sister, and their mom owns Summer Palace Publishers, so you've got connections.”
“Oh wow.”
“You mean 'holy shit,' right?”
Winter rolled his eyes, crossed his arms haughtily, and using his legs he pushed the office chair across the floor, taking Qibli with it.
“Noooooooo...” Qibli dramatically whispered and he glided away, then deliberately falling off the chair into a pile of his unfolded clothes. He lifted a clenched hand into the air dramatically. “I have been forsaken...”
“Serves you right, delinquent. You're a bad influence.” Winter stuck his tongue out, and it was fucking adorable.
“Swearing is good for you!” Qibli insisted, flipping onto his stomach. Winter clambered off the bed and sat cross-legged next to him on the floor. He gave a soft chuckle.
“'Good for you?' not with parents like mine.”
“I've HAD parents like yours, and lemme just tell you, the feeling of freedom and itty bitty tiny rebellion that swearing gives you was one of the things keeping me going through those dreary years, my dude.”
Winter froze up completely, it was certainly not a rare occasion that he forgot about Qibli's past, but he felt terrible every time.
“Oh. Winter, it's okay. I've reached the 'joking about it' stage.”
“Sorry.”
“It's fine. Oh my god, Winter, look at me.”
The lanky boy looked at him sideways, following the order in letter, but not spirit.
“It's literally okay. Okay? I'm not mad at all. Like, even a little bit.”
“Okay.”
“Let us change the subject!” Qibli declared, sweeping his arms into the air grandly, hoping to make Winter laugh. He earned himself a weak, poorly concealed smile. “Wanna talk about your story?”
“No, I still feel bad about that too.”
“Mmkay.”
They sat quietly on the messy floor for a bit, thinking. Both knowing exactly what they wanted to talk about, but neither wanting to bring it up.
“... I kinda miss Turtle.” Winter intoned.
“Oh dude, me too. He's also one of Tsunami's siblings.”
“He was really relaxing to be around.”
“I guess he was. I think these days he's livin' at Kinkajou's half the time.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, they have a long-distance thing going on. Moon was telling me about it the other day.”
“Oh, you and Moon are still in touch?” Winter rubbed the back of his neck.
“Yea! We're like... email penpals. We exchange messages once a week or so. We're always saying we're gonna set up a group chat with everyone from summer camp in it, but then we never get around to it.”
“Are you two like... uh..” He averted his eyes. “Are you together? You seemed pretty snuggly at camp...”
“We were, for like a month. But agreed after a bit that we were a better match as friends, y'know? Plus I had someone else in mind.”
“Oh...”
More silence. Winter continued to rub the back of his neck with one hand, and it was becoming noticeably pink.
“Do you remember when... we were texting at, I think, three in the morning? an-”
“There were a few times. Do you mean the time you told me you had a crush on me?”
Winter flopped forward, laying facedown on a floor. And he stayed that way for a good few minutes. Qibli spent that time admiring the back of his head, where the blue hair dye was fading into the bleached silver underneath. It was a good look for him.
“It was 3:00am, Qibli!” Winter finally grumbled, gesturing with one hand. “You should have been half dead with sleep deprivation by then! You should, reasonably, have NO MEMORY of the event.”
“I have fucking screenshots my dude. I was so happy. But like... can I touch your fuckin' hair, man?”
Winter hesitated, before slowly nodding into the carpet, and Qibli wished he could see him blushing now.
Qibli scooted over near the other boy's head, and hesitated for a second, his hand hovering over the mop of frosty hair. He'd always wanted to do this.
He lowered his hand, running his fingers through it at last. It was far, FAR softer than he'd predicted. Qibli ruffled it a little, then smoothed it back down only to ruffle it up again. His carob fingers contrasted magnificently with the silver-sky tufts.
“How the shit is your hair so soft and so heavily bleached at the same time?”
Winter's body bounced lightly with a laugh, but he remained unmistakably tense. Qibli wondered if it would be more awkward to keep ruffling his hair, or to stop, before remembering that the best way to find out would be just to ask. If they were progressing toward a relationship -and they seemed to be. He really wanted them to be- a consent heavy relationship was the kind he wanted.
“Are you okay with this? Are you comfortable?”
“I'm fine.” Winter whispered.
“Tell me to stop when you want me to, okay?”
“Keep going.”
Winter turned onto his side, which Qibli imagined must be much more comfy. Once the taller boy was settled, Qibli continued stroking through his hair. He teased it up into a big spiky poof, then smoothed it down and arranged some of the short locks into a tiny braid. He then disrupted the braid, and ran his fingers through it normally, trying to find the natural way it all flowed. Once he had that figured out, he rubbed all of the hair the wrong way so it stood akimbo in every direction. Eventually, he returned it to the natural mop of spikes, and the fun of styling devolved into a sensual, repetitive stroking. He tucked Winter's hair behind his ear again and again, essentially just petting him at this point. Winter had closed his eyes, so Qibli was unashamedly studying the boy's face.
Winter was, bluntly, pale as fuck. He had a long, noble nose, angular cheekbones, and a protruding browline with dark eyebrows that stood out against the rest of him like a raisin in a chocolate chip cookie. He had long thick eyelashes that could almost be called feminine. His ears, oddly, were rounded, and small. Qibli realized he didn't think about them much, as they were usually hidden in Winter's shaggy blue hair. He noted that the pale boy looked like a vampire waterbender.
Winter was unbelievably beautiful. Not just handsome, he was pretty. Which pleased Qibli in every way.
They listened to each other breathing for a little bit longer.
“This is kinda needless to say, but I like saying it, so I'm gonna.” Qibli started. Winter opened his eyes, and flipped over to face him, listening.
“Basically, I have a crush on you too. Which is like... super definitely obvious right now? Feels good to get it off my chest though.”
“Feels good to hear it.” Winter whispered. His eyes were sleepy, and Qibli wondered how long the two of them had been sitting on the floor like that.
Winter, propping himself up with one hand, stood up in front of Qibli, blinking away his adorable drowsiness. He held out a porcelain hand.
Qibli took his hand, surprised. He was helped to stand up, and led to sit on the bed. Winter sat close. Their legs touched.
“Do you have any thoughts you wanna tell me about?” Qibli asked. He had never known Winter to be so quiet, but then, he had never seen Winter in a sensual -or even romantic- mood before.
“I... Don't know what to say. Or how to voice my thoughts.”
“I understand. Just say what you're thinking, as it comes into your mind. Give me a rough draft, y'know?”
“Okay. Uh... Well, I'm really afraid of my family finding out...” He picked nervously at his fingernails, not meeting Qibli's eyes. “I'm really happy too, and I don't know what to do with it. I don't know what to do NEXT, because I feel one one hand like we should like... take it slow. But also, I'm gonna go back to Canada day after tomorrow, and then we won't see each other for a long time. Like, time is of the essence, kinda. Also I'm- heh” He chuckled shamefully. “I'm a, uh, a hormonal teenager. Aren't we all though? But yeah, like, I kinda wanna not take it slow.” He buried his face in his hand with an exasperated groan, and Qibli smiled.
He'd been sharing a lot of those thoughts. It was really interesting to see Winter like this, in an entirely new light. He was being vulnerable, and Qibli had been beginning to think that wasn't possible.
“I sound entirely stupid. I don't know how many times I said 'like' there. I hate that word.”
“Dude, you do NOT sound stupid. That was a perfect emotion-rough draft, and I was thinking a lot of the same things!” Qibli put one hand on Winter's leg. “I really, really appreciate your honesty. It means everything to me right now.”
“How about you? What are your thoughts?”
Qibli pondered for a second, getting his mind in order.
“I'm trying to decide what to do next. I agree that we don't have very much time. One thing I think I would definitely like to do at some point before I go back home is kiss you?”
“Yeah that would be good.”
“I've never kissed anyone before.” Qibli admitted with a chuckle. “Okay, actually I did when I was like, six, back when I went to school. I thought I had to be straight and so I kissed this girl I didn't even like. She slapped me, because she thought that's what SHE was supposed to do, cause that's what they did on tv, y'know?”
A smile broke Winter's face.
“Bitch.” He commented.
It took Qibli a full few seconds to wrap his head around what Winter had said. For a moment he even thought someone else had appeared to say it, or something. Winter swearing felt too far fetched, so when it finally clicked all Qibli could do was laugh.
His laugh was roaring, which he hadn't meant, and Winter looked embarrassed. Qibli clapped.
“Aw, good show. Winter! I will make you my apprentice yet!”
“Shut up...”
“Make me.”
They were both silent for a few seconds.
“That was your cue to kiss me if you were up for it.”
“Yeah, I thought it might've been.”
“Do you think you'd be ready to try that?”
“I... I want to.”
“Okay!”
Qibli turned himself on the bed, facing Winter a bit more. The taller boy did the same. They scooted together. Qibli took one of Winter's hands, putting it on his hip, and the other on his neck, and put his own hand on Winter's cheek, extending the other arm across his shoulder.
“I think we gotta close our eyes, right? That sound good?”
“Yeah.” Winter squeaked.
“Don't forget to breathe. Oh, and this is a first kiss. No tongue stuff, okay?”
“I wasn't gonna try.”
“All right. If you're ready, we can like... ease into it.”
Winter nodded.
They inclined their necks, bringing their faces close. Winter's breath was soft, but fast. Their eyes were both closed, and Qibli could feel Winter's brow furrowed against his own. He wanted to open his eyes so bad.
He could feel Winter's lip, it was right there, if he had the courage to move forward the smallest bit. He was frozen. Was this really happening? After the entire last hour, where was his courage?
Winter closed the distance between them. He did it.
Their lips pressed lightly together. Qibli felt goosebumps. Winter pulled him tighter, moving one hand to the back of the smaller boy's head. His breath was hot against his cheek.
They broke the kiss, then immediately went back into it, the way they did in movies. One long kiss, then a millisecond break, then another kiss. They broke apart and met at a different angle, getting sloppier and more desperate as they went.
After having advised Winter to be sure to breathe, Qibli felt embarrassed to realize he was holding his own breath. He let it out. They breathed frantically against each other, gasping in the space between kisses. Their hands went from holding to grasping. Why can't we get any closer?
What was going to be one gentle kiss had quickly become ragged breaths, clutching hands, accidental teeth, desperate lips, raging hormones, and heavily considered tongues.
Winter pushed Qibli backwards onto the bed, and Qibli agreed that that was the next thing to do. But progression after falling on the bed needed more planning. The next time they parted for breath, Qibli tilted his head away slightly to break the rhythm. They caught their breath together, laying in the bed, foreheads meeting. When Qibli finally opened his eyes, he found Winter's glittery blue ones studying his face. He gave a breathless smile, and reached up one hand to stroke Winter's cheek.
“Okay...” He panted. “Kissing before I leave: Check. We should uh.... We gotta work on our next step.”
“Kissing in bed?”
“That's a good next step.”
“I kinda just wanna do that for a bit. Lets plan later?”
“That's exactly what I wanted to hear.”