Archive of Our Own ^beta

Judelow

The field Sharpness picked for training was one of those rolling green stretches just past the birch line, where the grass grew long enough to brush at Jude’s knees and sway in thick, sunlit waves. The afternoon light pooled gold across the ground, warming the dirt beneath their boots and catching along the edges of the tall grass so that it shimmered faintly every time the wind moved through it. A few white clouds drifted lazily overhead, and somewhere in the distance, one of Jude’s earlier redstone contraptions clicked faintly as it reset itself.

Sharpness stood opposite him in the center of the clearing, his wooden sword loose in his hand.

He had tied his long blonde hair back today, gathering the usual curtain of it at the nape of his neck so it wouldn’t fall into his face while they sparred. The exposed line of his jaw caught the light every time he turned his head, and the leather chestplate they’d both opted for for training purposes fit snugly across his torso, outlining the breadth of his shoulders and the defined curve of his arms. Sweat clung faintly to his skin from their warm-up drills, turning the pale muscle of his forearms luminous under the sun.

Jude adjusted his grip on his own wooden training sword and tried not to stare. As predicted, he failed almost immediately and quickly found himself studying the way the sunlight traced the flex of Sharpness’s arms as he shifted his weight. 

Damn, he’s toned. It made sense, given Sharpness’s status as one of the best fighters on the SMP, but jeez. Jude swallowed, only barely managing to tear his eyes away.

Sharpness angled one foot back and settled into a relaxed stance, managing to look effortlessly dangerous. Even when he claimed he was ‘going easy,’ there was something coiled in him — something held taut in the set of his shoulders and in the quiet, attentive focus of his green eyes — that made Jude’s pulse thrum just a little harder than he cared to admit.

Sharpness swung once to test Jude’s guard.

The hit connected with a dull thud against Jude’s wooden blade, controlled and measured rather than forceful. Sharpness could have followed through harder, and Jude knew it because he could feel the restraint; his impact landed with delicate precision instead of the heavy weight Jude was used to from their real fights.

“You’re holding back,” Jude said immediately as he hopped back a step, his rabbit ears twitching irritably.

Sharpness’s lips pressed into a thin line that hovered somewhere between unimpressed and faintly amused. “You’re still learning. Do you really want me to take you out with the first hit?”

“I’m not glass, you know,” Jude shot back as he bounced lightly on the balls of his feet with his sword angled loosely at his side. “You can hit me.”

“I am hitting you.”

“Like a darling princess swatting flies,” Jude sigh-songed, a teasing grin in place, “Fits with the long, blonde locks you’ve got going. Should I start calling you Rapunzel?” 

The words slipped out easily, as they always did when Jude decided to test a boundary. The wind shifted again and caught the loose strands of blonde hair that had escaped Sharpness’s tie, brushing them across his cheek and making the nickname feel almost unfairly fitting.

Sharpness glowered at him, embarrassed, and pink bloomed steadily across his cheekbones.

Jude’s breath hitched just slightly at the sight of it.

Seeing his face pink like that—it was like a drug to Judelow. That flush that spread so vividly across Sharpness’s pale skin whenever Jude landed a well-placed comment. The color traveled down his neck and disappeared beneath the leather collar of his chestplate, leaving Jude staring longer than he meant to.

How could someone be that beautiful and still be able flatten half the server in a 1-v-1?

Sharpness rolled his eyes, though the tips of his ears remained tinted red. “Focus,” he said evenly. “I’m trying to help you, you know? I should be getting some sort of worlds best teammate award for this.”

Teammate. 

The word seemed to make his his bunny ears ring. Teammate, teammate, teammate.

Jude snapped out of it with a quick shake of his head that sent his ears flopping against his hair. This was training, reminded himself. This was a tactical alliance built on mutual benefit. He was here to learn how to break shields faster and land cleaner hits, not to admire the way sweat traced the curve of Sharpness’s forearms. What was wrong with him?

Sharpness tilted his head slightly and watched him, his green eyes attentive as he observed Jude’s lapse in attention.

Jude straightened abruptly, plastered on his usual smirk, and began hopping in place exaggeratedly as he circled Sharpness. “Why are you just standing there? Come and get me.”

Sharpness exhaled slowly in a breath that sounded controlled and almost patient before he shifted into a proper PvP stance with his shoulders squared and his weight centered. The difference was immediate; even with a wooden sword and half armor, the air around him seemed to sharpen in response to his fighting intent.

Jude lunged first, darting forward with quick, trapper-trained footwork that relied on feints and pivots meant to bait opponents into overcommitting. Sharpness parried smoothly, and their wooden swords clacked together in rhythmic bursts as they circled through the tall grass.

Every time Jude rushed him, Sharpness redirected him effortlessly with a precise tap to the wrist, a calculated step to the side, or a controlled shove at the shoulder that sent Jude stumbling half a step back without ever knocking him fully off balance. The restraint in each correction made it obvious that Sharpness was still holding back, and Jude could feel it in every exchange, which somehow irritated him more than outright defeat would have.

They moved steadily through the field as grass bent beneath their boots and Jude’s ears twitched constantly, catching the sound of Sharpness’s breathing, the scrape of leather, and the faint click of wooden blades colliding. Sharpness fought with clean lines and deliberate timing, moving like someone who had already calculated three steps ahead before Jude had even committed to the first. For someone who so easily hell into Jude’s traps, he seemed to be able to predict his movements so easily.

When Jude aimed a quick slash toward Sharpness’s side, Sharpness caught his wrist mid-motion and twisted just enough to force Jude into a pivot that preserved his balance.

“Commit to the swing,” Sharpness instructed in a steady, low voice.

Jude yanked his arm free and scoffed. “You sound like a bad tutorial pop-up.”

Sharpness’s mouth twitched despite himself as they reset.

This time Jude darted closer and deliberately invaded Sharpness’s space, positioning himself near enough to see the way the sunlight caught in his lashes.

“You really do look like royalty with your hair like that,” Jude added lightly as he circled him. “Princess Sharpness.”

The blush returned immediately, and Sharpness’s grip tightened around his sword. His green eyes narrowed.

Jude felt satisfaction bloom warm in his chest at the reaction. He kept pressing, unable to resist. “Careful,” Jude added, circling closer than necessary. “If you keep looking like that, I might start fighting dirty.”

Sharpness stepped forward suddenly and forced Jude back two strides before he could recover, and the taller man’s presence loomed close enough that Jude felt the heat radiating from his body through the leather and cloth between them.

“Focus,” Sharpness repeated, though this time his voice carried a sharper edge.

Jude swallowed, his ears flicking. Maybe he liked that edge more than he should have.

They clashed again in a faster exchange of wooden strikes, and Jude’s heart hammered as adrenaline mixed with something warmer every time Sharpness closed the distance between them.

By the time the sun had climbed higher overhead, sweat clung to Jude’s collarbone and dampened the fur at the base of his ears.

Sharpness finally stepped back and lowered his sword. “Go get some water.”

Jude bent at the waist dramatically with his hands braced on his knees. “Shit, have you got unlimited stamina or something?” he weezed.

Sharpness lifted his flask and took a long swig, and Jude watched the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed. 

He did not even attempt subtlety.

When Sharpness caught him staring, Jude straightened instantly and flashed his brightest, most irritating grin. “What?” he asked. “Admiring my form?”

Sharpness snorted quietly, and the sound settled low in Jude’s stomach in a way he chose not to examine too closely. He stuck his arm out, handing Jude his bottle. “Drink. I don’t want you passing out on my watch.”

Jude drank.

—

By the time Sharpness decided wooden swords had done enough for the day, the sun had shifted higher overhead and the air had grown thick with the scent of crushed grass and warm leather. Jude’s arms ached pleasantly from the repeated exchanges, and his ears still buzzed faintly with the echo of wood striking wood that had followed them across the field like a metronome.

Sharpness returned from his shulker with two spears and tossed one toward Jude without ceremony, as if he were handing over nothing more significant than an extra stick.

Jude yelped as he caught it midair before nearly dropped it anyway. The weight was different in his hands than he expected, and the balance pulled forward before he could compensate.

“Careful,” Sharpness said dryly, with the tone of someone who had watched too many people fumble for the same reason. Was that a touch of concern Jude could hear? What a sweetie.

“I am careful,” Jude replied as he adjusted his grip and pretended the spear had not felt awkwardly unfamiliar the moment it landed in his palms. It was longer than he preferred, and it carried its weight differently than a sword did, seeing as it was built for reach and precision rather than quick, snappy flurries.

Sharpness twirled his own spear once, and the movement looked smooth and practiced in a way that made Jude feel like he had been handed a complicated tool with no instructions. “Spears break shields faster if you time the lunge properly,” Sharpness said, matter-of-fact as always. “You force them to block, you crack the shield, and you rush before they have time to reset.”

Jude squinted at him. “That sounds very simple when you say it.”

“It is simple,” Sharpness replied without hesitation, which only made Jude want to argue on principle. “Maybe you’re just an idiot.”

“Oh, sure,” Jude said, letting sarcasm curl around the words, “and redstone is just pushing buttons.”

Sharpness ignored that entirely and stepped back as he raised his shield. “Watch me.”

He lunged forward in one clean motion, and the spear tip struck the shield with a sharp, cracking hit that sounded like it belonged in a real fight rather than a lesson. In the same breath he pivoted around, sweeping his leg in an imaginary rush that would have left a real opponent scrambling to recover.

“Uhh, do you think you could do that again?” Jude asked as he tried not to stare at the way the motion pulled the leather chestplate taut across Sharpness’s torso, and as he tried not to notice how easily the movement flowed through Sharpness’s body, a language the blonde had been speaking for years.

Sharpness repeated it without complaint, irritatingly helpful.

The timing felt almost unfair, since every step and adjustment was precise and economical, and nothing about the motion suggested hesitation or uncertainty.

Jude rolled his shoulders and tried to replicate it, even though the spear still felt like it wanted to drag him forward rather than follow his lead. He lunged, but he was too slow, and he knew it the moment he committed. The spear hit the shield, but the follow-up rush stuttered awkwardly as he tried to regain footing, and the whole sequence collapsed into something clumsy that looked nothing like Sharpness’s clean demonstration.

Sharpness lowered his shield. “Your grip’s off.”

“It is not,” Jude protested immediately, his tone petulant just to be annoying. Hey, Jude never claimed to be a likeable guy, okay?

“It is,” Sharpness said again, unbothered.

Jude narrowed his eyes and attempted the sequence a second time, trying to compensate with force, which felt way easier than correcting the technique in real time. He lunged harder, drove the spear into the shield with more weight, and managed to crack it, but his footing faltered again, and the spear wobbled slightly in his hands as the follow-up rush fell apart.

Sharpness exhaled in a slow, controlled way that suggested patience was a muscle he had trained as deliberately as his reflexes. “You are so agitated,” he pointed out, huffy.

Jude caught the faint flare of impatience in his expression and grinned. Jude had never been able to resist pressing on a bruise. “Oh no,” he said sweetly, “am I frustrating you, princess?”

Sharpness’s jaw tightened, and the tension in the line of it made Jude feel far too satisfied with himself.

Jude leaned back onto one heel and spun the spear lazily as if he had mastered it, even though his grip still felt wrong. “You might just be a bad teacher,” he added, throwing fuel on the fire just for the fun of it.

Sharpness stared at him, his green eyes electric. The intensity of his gaze had enough weight to make Jude’s nose twitch nervously. Eeek, scary.

“I hate you,” Sharpness said flatly, pointing the blade of his spear at Jude.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” the smaller man laughed as he lifted his hands defensively, as if he had not been the one poking at Sharpness for the past hour. “I was joking. There’s no need to get violent.”

Sharpness stepped toward him anyway, his eyes narrowed. Jude’s ears flicked upright with instinctual alarm.

Sharpness stopped just short of him and dragged a slow breath through his nose, visibly reining something back in. A loose strand of blonde hair fell forward and brushed his cheek before the wind nudged it aside again. Jude watched the motion like a hawk, his magenta stare tracking every strand.

“I’m not going to get violent,” Sharpness said tightly. “I’m just going to show you the proper grip.”

“Oh,” Jude replied, and he was suddenly very aware of the narrowing distance between them, as if the space had shrunk without warning.

Sharpness moved behind him, doing so at first with a careful restraint that kept him close but not touching. That only lasted a moment, though, because the taller man stepped in fully a beat later. Sharpness’s chest aligned flush with Jude’s back so neatly that Jude was nearly enveloped in him.

Judelow’s breath caught, his heart hammering in his chest dispute himself. Touching, touching, touching. With Sharpness as close as he was, the way the other mab towered over him undeniable. Sharpness radiated heat from behind each, each place where his chest pressed against Jude’s back seeming almost to burn.

Sharpness reached around Jude’s right shoulder, one arm crossing in front of Jude’s chest as he adjusted Jude’s hand placement on the spear. His fingers closed around Jude’s wrist in a grip that was firm, warm, and steady. His fingers were long and pale, but undeniably deft as they carefelluy manuvered Jude’s own hands.

“Your elbow’s too low,” Sharpness murmured. “If you paid half as much attention to technique as you do to running your mouth, maybe you’d know what you were doing.”

Jude’s bunny nose twitched involuntarily, and he hand to stifle a shiver. He hated that his body reacted so honestly when his mouth never did. Sharpness’ voice was so close, his lips nearly brushing the fluff of Jude’s rabbit ears. 

He could smell leather and metal and sweat, and beneath it there was something faintly sharp and clean that belonged entirely to Sharpness. Pine, maybe? It was almost minty. 

His little nose twitched again, curious, like always. Jude was probably too curious for his own good.

Sharpness lifted Jude’s elbow gently, guiding the motion with practiced confidence. His other hand settled briefly at Jude’s waist to correct his stance. The contact sent a jolt through Jude’s entire body, and his ears twitched with excess energy, one of them brushing back against Sharpness’s cheek in a nervous spasm that he could not control.

Sharpness inhaled sharply.

Jude froze.

“S-sorry,” Jude muttered automatically, cursing himself for his stutter. Play it cool Judelow. Still, he made no move to step away.

Sharpness cleared his throat, and his voice dropped lower as if he were trying to keep it under control. “Plant your back foot first,” he instructed. “Then drive forward. The shield break happens before they anticipate it.”

Jude nodded, even though the words barely registered, because Sharpness’s body was solid against his back and the steady rise and fall of his breathing pressed into Jude’s shoulder blades in a way that made Jude too aware of his own fluttering breaths. Sharpness’s arms dwarfed Jude’s, and Jude caught the faint flex of pale muscle as Sharpness adjusted his grip again.

Jude risked glancing up at the man behind him, and the sight that graced his eyes was like a gift from God, Himself.

Sharpness’s face was nearly crimson, his eyes looking everywhere except at Jude, as though the horizon had suddenly become the most fascinating thing in the world. His jaw was tight, his mouth slightly parted, and he continued explaining timing and pressure as if this were a perfectly ordinary instructional moment rather than something that had set them both on edge.

Jude could feel his own face heating in response, and he turned forward quickly in the hope that Sharpness had not noticed.

“Okay, now lunge,” Sharpness instructed quietly.

Jude did, and this time the movement felt smoother with Sharpness to guide him through it. There was no room to fight the taller man’s steady correction. Jude kept his elbow high, held his grip firm without turning rigid, and drove the spear forward with a clean line that struck the armor stand’s shield with a sharp crack. His pivot came instinctively on the follow-through, and the rush landed in place with a rhythm that felt, for once, like competence rather than luck.

The armor stand’s shield split, giving Jude more than enough time for a follow through.

Jude gasped, the sound equal parts surprise and delight.

When he did it again, it was cleaner and faster, and it felt like something clicked into place in his body.

Sharpness stepped back finally, and the absence of his warmth was abrupt enough that Jude felt a chill almost immediately. “See?” Sharpness said, and his voice had regained some of its steadiness, even if his flushed face still betrayed him. “It’s in the timing.”

Jude spun around with adrenaline surging and whooped loudly. “Did you see that?” he demanded, because he could not help himself. “That was perfect!”

He bounced in place, unable to contain the excitement, and his ears flopped wildly as he hopped once, twice, with the spear held aloft triumphantly like a trophy.

Sharpness watched him with something unreadable in his eyes, and Jude hated that he wanted to figure out what it meant. Curiosity killed the cat, he had the foresight to think. Or in this case, the rabbit.

“If my exponential PvP improvement continues on this trajectory,” Jude announced dramatically as he pointed the spear at him, “Then I’ll be destroying you in 1-v-1s in no time. You better be on the lookout, Sharpy-poo.”

Sharpness snorted. “In your dreams.”

“Oh, I have very vivid dreams,” Jude shot back automatically, and he watched with satisfaction as Sharpness’s ears flushed pink again. 

Smooth, Judelow.

The field shimmered with heat around them as the tall grass bent in gentle waves. Jude felt alive in a way he had not expected. The improvement itself was exhilarating and the undercurrent humming between them made it impossible to treat the lesson like something purely practical.

Sharpness retrieved his shield and repositioned himself. “Again.”

They ran the drill repeatedly, and each repetition came easier as Jude improved incrementally. Sharpness corrected him with brief touches when necessary, leaving little traces of contect that seemed to linger long after Sharpness’ hand had retreated—a nudge to Jude’s wrist, a tap at his hip, or a hand guiding his elbow into place. 

Jude’s pulse skipped more often than it needed to, and he hated that he noticed it, too. This was dangerous, and Jude knew it. This was a teamporary teammup, and he needed to remember that. Every time Jude realized his attention was lingering a little too long on the delicate curve of Sharpness’ neck or the carved muscle of his broad back… it made Jude’s hair stand on end. This was something Sharpness could turn into a weapon if he ever chose to, and soon, Jude knew, that time would come.

Its only temporary.

By the end of the hour, sweat had darkened Sharpness’s hair at the nape of his neck, and the leather of his chestplate clung slightly to his torso in a way that felt impossible to ignore, despite JUde’s best efforts. A faint sheen coated his pale arms and caught the sunlight in a way that made Jude’s throat dry. Jude had never been good at looking away from something pretty when it was placed directly in front of him.

Sharpness wiped his brow with the back of his wrist. “That’s enough for spear, I think.”

Jude rested the butt of the spear against the ground and leaned on it casually, as if he had not spent the last hour being corrected. “You’re sweatingggg,” he observed, unable to resist.

“So are you,” Sharpness shot back, and his tone suggested he was trying very hard not to engage.

“Not as much as you, though, oh PVP god Sharpness. What, is the little bunny giving you trouble?” Jude asked as he hopped around Sharpness, his smile broad and teasing. He just couldn’t help but rile the other man up, it was like it was in Jude’s blood to bait him.

Sharpness glared at him, and Jude grinned back, pleased with the reaction even as the tension coiled between them in the bright afternoon air. They both knew it was there, and neither of them said it out loud.

—

The field looked different once they stepped back onto it in full netherite.

The difference came not only from the weight of the armor, though that heaviness was unmistakable as it settled heavily over Jude’s shoulders and pressed firmly against his hips with metallic reassurance. It also came from the way the late afternoon sun caught along the enchanted edges of their gear, reflecting violet-blue glints across the polished plates so that every movement shimmered faintly with contained magic.

Sharpness stood across from him in full armor now, his sword resting loose in one hand and his shield braced casually against his thigh. The leather chestplate discarded and sweat-bright skin from earlier concealed beneath dark netherite, yet Jude knew exactly what lay underneath it, the knowledge lingering in his mind in a way that felt distinctly unhelpful.

Just the memory made something warm coil low in his stomach. Jude ran a tongue over his bunny-like top teeth, fighting down the urge to nibble or, more accurately, to bite down on one of Sharp’s muscle-y arms.

Sharpness tossed his sword once from one hand to the other, the blade flashing in a smooth arc before settling back into a ready grip. His posture had shifted again from the relaxed patience of instruction to something more familiar, the softness draining away and leaving behind the version of him that dominated leaderboards and cleared fields without hesitation.

He looked like himself now: dangerous, controlled, and utterly certain. 

The breeze moved through the grass between them and bent the tall blades into a slow ripple that brushed against Jude’s boots. Jude felt the subtle shift in atmosphere beneath his helmet as his ears twitched faintly. This was it, a real, full-out spar. With Sharpness.

The blonde tilted his head slightly. “Nervous?”

“What!” Jude bristled immediately. “Like hell.”

Sharpness’s mouth curved faintly behind his visor. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let’s just get this over with.”

Jude inhaled deeply, letting the scent of grass and dirt steady him before he launched forward without another word.

Their first clash rang loud and metallic as sword met shield with a sharp crack that vibrated through Jude’s arms and up into his shoulders. He pivoted instantly and brought his mace around in a swift overhead swing that forced Sharpness to block again, but Jude followed through with a wind charge burst that shoved Sharp back a step.

“Ha!” Jude crowed as he darted sideways before Sharpness could retaliate cleanly. “Got ya, got ya, got ya,” he chanted, excited to have got a clean hit in.

Sharpness advanced with smooth precision. Even in full armor, his movements remained measured and deliberate as he tested Jude’s reactions rather than overwhelming him outright.

Jude met him head-on again, this time feinting left before snapping his mace down hard against Sharp’s shield. The crack echoed louder than expected, and the shield flickered visibly as its durability dipped.

Sharpness retaliated immediately with a swift sword combo that caught Jude in the shoulder and forced him to hastily swallow down a golden apple to recover.

Jude grinned around the lingering effect and rushed forward again.

They moved across the field with grass flattening beneath their boots and sparks flashing with every clean exchange. Jude’s heart hammered violently in his chest as adrenaline flooded his veins, and when he landed another solid mace hit that forced Sharpness to gapple himself, he felt a live, electric jolt of confidence ignite inside him.

Sharpness stepped back. Sharpness retreated.

Jude’s breath hitched as he watched his opponents fleeing back, his blonde ponytail swaying with every leap.

Was Jude actually pushing him?

The thought sent another wild surge of exhilaration through Jude’s chest. His drills from earlier were working, his timing was landing, and the hours spent being corrected and repositioned and teased were translating into real pressure. Real skill.

He pressed forward aggressively, chasing Sharpness across the clearing as laughter spilled out of him bright and uncontained.

“Come here, pretty boy!” Jude called as he rushed him again. “Looks like I’m better than you after all, huh? Not so scary now!”

Sharpness’s shield cracked under another heavy strike.

“I’m really not afraid of you at all,” Jude continued, circling him with manic energy that vibrated under his armor. He giggled. “Could it be that you’re the scared one, Sharpness? Scared of little old me? The tiny wittle wabbit.”

A ways in front of him, Sharpness stopped retreating. Instead, he went stock still, his shoulders tense. 

Jude similarly slowed, suddenly aware of the dangerous aura permeating the air, as palpable as it was undeniable.

Uh oh. I probably should’ve known better than to push my luck too far… Sharpness isn’t exactly known for his pacifist tendencies.

It was all the self-awareness Judelow could manage before Sharpness was spinning on his heel with deliberate precision, sword raised and gaze deadly.

—

Sharpness

He had tolerated it all day.

Sharpness had endured the teasing and the princess jokes and the repeated use of pretty boy without more than a half-hearted glare. He had listened to the bouncing laughter and the smug commentary every time Jude landed a partial hit, and he had held himself back deliberately so that Jude could actually improve his PVP instead of just humiliating himself.

He’d even held himself back and simulated fights at Jude’s level, allowing the rabbit hybrid to believe he was pressing forward naturally, to show him that he was getting better.

Really, Sharpness had gone above and beyond, all in the name of being a good teammate.

And yet, this was the thanks he received.

“Scared?”

The word scraped rawly against Sharpness’ pride, echoing with Judelow’s mocking voice. Scared?

As if Jude—loud, reckless, chaotic Jude—could ever push him into fleeing a real fight. Trapping, sure. Sharpness had been humiliated more than enough in that regard, that was no question. But PVP?

Sharpness felt heat bloom beneath his helm at the echo of pretty boy, and irritation tightened even more sharply in his chest as he turned fully toward Jude with his sword lifting in one smooth, controlled motion.

Enough.

Jude’s manic laughter wavered, sensing the change in Sharpness’ demeanor. No longer would the blonde be pulling his punches—now, he had something to prove.

Sharpness advanced.

A wind charge burst from beneath his boots as he launched forward and brought his mace down in a brutal arc that Jude barely managed to block in time. The impact cracked violently against Jude’s armor with a force Sharpness had not used all afternoon.

Jude staggered.

Sharpness followed through seamlessly and switched weapons mid-motion before placing cobwebs at Jude’s ankles with precise speed that bordered on instinct.

The webs caught cleanly, tangling in the rabbit’s uncoordinated feet. Jude shrieked.

“Sharp–!”

Sharpness pressed forward without hesitation and drove another wind-charged strike downward, forcing Jude into a frantic defensive scramble. He watched the flicker of surprise bloom in Jude’s wide magenta eyes as realization set in that the pace had changed completely.

“You wanna test your skill?” Sharpness asked, the words leaving him in a half-craved rush.

Jude struggled in the cobweb and grabbed instinctively at Sharp’s armor in an attempt to pull himself free.

The sudden contact sent a sharp spike of heat through Sharpness’s spine. Jude’s hands clenched onto the front of his chestplate with a desperation that was dangerously close to intimate, like he was relying on Sharpness instinctively for help. 

Sharpness gritted his teeth, trying not to revel in the feeling.

Sharpness caught Jude’s wrists with ease and twisted firmly enough to force the mace from the other man’s grip. The weapon fell into the grass with a dull thud, and Sharpness used the momentum to yank Jude free from the webbing before hooking his leg behind Jude’s ankle and driving them both downward.

They crashed into the grass together as dirt scattered beneath their armor.

Sharpness rolled smoothly into position and settled his weight with practiced control so that he straddled Jude securely. He pinned Jude’s wrists above his head with one hand and pressed his weight down through his hips and chest while his sword hovered at Jude’s throat, its edge glinting inches from warm fur and flushed skin.

Jude blinked up at him with wide eyes and quickened breath, and his bunny ears lay flattened against the grass as he trembled faintly beneath him.

“Um,” Jude said weakly. “Hi?”

Sharpness pressed the blade slightly closer, careful and controlled.

“Are you scared now?”

Jude nodded immediately, his ears flopping as his throat bobbed visibly when he swallowed. 

Sharpness’s gaze tracked the movement without permission, and he found himself watching the steady rise and fall of Jude’s chest and feeling the warmth of Jude’s breath brush faintly against his chin.

Pinned beneath him, Jude felt smaller than he had at any point during training, stripped of his puffed-out chest and bravado. Like this, he was tiny and fragile, entirely at Sharpness’ mercy.

Sharpness studied him openly.

He took in the soft roundness of Jude’s face, the faint freckles dusting his nose, the slight buck of his teeth visible between parted lips, and the familiar glint of mischief that still lingered faintly in his wide magenta eyes, despite everything.

Jude was infuriating. More than that, Jude was disarming.

Sharpness leaned down, too caught up in the moment to think anything through.

“I’m stronger than you,” he said quietly, his voice rougher than he intended. “And I will always be stronger than you. You should really get that into your dumb bunny brain.”

Once he’d started, it was impossible to stop the flow of words leaving his mouth.

“You will never beat me in a fair fight,” he continued, aware of the heat climbing steadily up his neck, “even if I am a ‘pretty boy.’”

He leaned closer still, until his lips hovered dangerously near the soft fluff of Jude’s ear, letting his voice drop to a near whisper.

“And you should really learn to shut up.”

Jude’s breath stuttered audibly, the quick rise and fall of his pants intimately tangible, trapped as he was beneath Sharpness’ full weight.

“Yeah?” Jude rasped, barely audible as he stared wide-eyed up at Sharp. 

“Yeah.”

One bunny ear twitched, revealing Jude’s nervousness. “Then why don’t you make me?”

Just as it had been doing all day, heat rose quickly to Sharpness’ pale cheeks, flushing them a pretty pink. But, well, Sharpness had never been one to back down from a direct challenge. 

Without another thought, he closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to Jude’s in a hard, decisive kiss.

The impact stole the air from Jude’s lungs.

For a half-second, the bunny went utterly still beneath him, magenta eyes blown wide, wrists pinned above his head, and body trapped beneath Sharpness’s weight. Sharpness tossed the threatening sword somewhere in the grass as his hand came up to gently cup Jude’s cheek, anchoring him in place as if Jude might somehow wriggle free of this, too.

Jude tasted like sun-warmed air, faint traces of golden apple and, somehow, everything Sharpness had ever wanted in his life. The kiss was not tentative. It was firm and claiming, the kind of kiss that came from a challenge answered.

Jude made a small, startled sound against Sharpness’s mouth, and the vibration of it seemed to travel straight through Sharpness’s chest, piercing at his heart.

Sharpness pulled back abruptly.

He stared down at Jude as if he had just realized what he had done, green eyes wide and face flushed a deep, unmistakable red that spread down his neck beneath the collar of his armor. His face felt hotter than it had the entire day, which was really saying something. The afternoon light caught along the edge of his jaw, highlighting the sharp line of it as his mouth parted slightly.

“What–” Sharpness began, and then stopped.

What had he been thinking?

He had just slammed his mouth against his teammate’s in the middle of a field because Jude had dared him to!!!

Because Jude had looked up at him like that. Because Jude had said make me. Because… Jude.

His face must be entirely crimson, no trace left of his clear, fair skin. This was the most embarrassing thing that had ever happened to him in his life, and that counted walking into one of Jude’s traps that he had activated himself.

Sharpness pushed himself up just enough to put distance between their mouths, though he still hovered over Jude, knees braced in the grass on either side of his hips. He looked like he wanted to vanish into the dirt and perhaps take the entire field with him.

Jude blinked up at him, dazed for a single breath. His lips were still parted, still slightly red from the roughness of Sharp’s kiss. 

“Uh,” Jude said softly, and the word came out almost breathless.

Before Sharpness could retreat further, Jude surged upward and grabbed the front of his chestplate, pulling him back down.

Their lips met again, this time with Jude pressing into it rather than receiving it. He angled his head and kissed Sharpness with an eager insistence that erased the last of the hesitation between them.

Sharpness made a low sound of surprise that Jude swallowed immediately.

Jude’s bunny teeth caught gently on Sharpness’s bottom lip, and he tugged just enough to draw a sharp inhale from the taller man.

“Careful,” Sharpness muttered against his mouth, though his hands had slid from Jude’s wrists to his waist without conscious permission, fingers spreading wide as they settled there, dwarfing the smaller man’s waist.

Judelow pulled away to quickly catch his breath. “Who, me?” he shot back, voice warm and teasing even as his cheeks burned pink.

Sharpness huffed out air that might have been a laugh if it were not tangled with something heavier. He leaned back in and kissed Jude more deliberately this time, his hand sliding from Jude’s cheek to cup the back of his neck, thumb brushing lightly against the soft fur at his hairline.

Jude melted into it.

For someone who was always so quick with a comment, so prepared with a comeback, Jude’s mouth softened immediately beneath his, and Sharpness felt a sharp flicker of satisfaction at how easily he could undo him.

Sharpness shifted his weight and pressed Jude fully back into the grass again, one hand braced near his shoulder and the other settling at his hip to hold him steady. The difference in their size felt suddenly obvious; Sharpness’s broader frame and longer limbs boxed Judelow in effortlessly.

Jude’s ears twitched wildly against the grass, practically screaming for Sharpness’ attention.

But Sharpness’s focus was elsewhere, narrowed entirely to the feeling of Jude’s lips against his. The kiss deepened in slow increments as he tilted Jude’s chin upward, angling him precisely where he wanted him. Jude’s fingers tangled in the fabric at Sharpness’s shoulders, gripping tight enough to almost dent the armor beneath.

“Still not scared?” Sharpness murmured against Jude’s mouth.

Jude’s lips curved faintly even as his breath came faster. “Terrified,” he said dryly. “You’re very intimidating, oh mighty PvP God.”

Sharpness rolled his eyes, though the fondness in the gesture was unmistakable. He kissed Jude again, slower this time, dragging it out until Jude made a quiet, frustrated sound at the lack of speed.

Sharpness pulled back just enough to look at him.

Jude’s face was flushed a deep, warm pink, a mirror of Sharpness’s own. His lips were slightly swollen already, parted as he caught his breath, and his magenta eyes were unfocused in a way Sharpness had never seen before.

He looked overwhelmed. Sharpness felt something coil in his chest at the sight of it, at the knowledge that he had caused this.

Jude’s ears twitched again, one brushing faintly against Sharpness’s shoulder.

Sharpness reached up almost absently and let his fingers trail along the base of one ear where it met Jude’s head.

Jude gasped, sharp and completely unguarded. His whole body seemed to twitch, triggered by the faint brush of Sharp’s fingers.

Sharpness froze for half a heartbeat. Then, he did it again, this time brushing his thumb slowly along the sensitive base, following the line upward just slightly.

Jude’s back arched instinctively beneath him. His hands tightened in Sharpness’s armor, and a soft, breathy sound escaped him before he could swallow it down. Hah–

“Oh,” Sharpness said quietly.

Jude’s eyes snapped open in mortified realization. “Do not–”

Sharpness’s thumb stroked the base of his ear again.

Jude gasped outright this time, the sound spilling from him before he could catch it, and his ears trembled visibly in response, eager for more.

“You talk too much,” Sharpness murmured, clearly pleased.

Jude glared up at him, though the glare lost some of its bite when Sharpness leaned down and pressed another slow kiss to his mouth while his fingers continued to trace along the sensitive fur at the base of his ear.

Jude’s protest dissolved into a muffled sound against Sharpness’s lips.

Sharpness deepened the kiss, pressing Jude more firmly into the grass, his larger frame settling over him with confident weight. Jude’s usual cocky composure had melted into something far softer, and Sharpness could feel it in the way Jude’s hands clutched at him rather than pushing him away.

The realization that he had reduced Jude—the loudest, most prepared person on the server—to breathless gasps beneath him sent a jolt of molten heat through Sharpness that, this time, had nothing to do with embarrassment.

Jude shifted beneath him, wriggling slightly in an attempt to regain some semblance of control. “You are insufferable,” he managed between kisses, sounding breathless.

“You started it,” Sharpness replied, mouthing along Jude’s jaw before returning to his woefully unoccupied lips.

Jude’s ears twitched again, betraying him.

Sharpness let his fingers trace the sensitive spot once more, and Jude’s breath hitched so sharply that he accidentally bit down a little too hard on Sharpness’s lip.

Sharpness made a low sound that vibrated between them, pressing his body down further against Jude’s vulnerable form.

Jude pulled back just enough to smirk up at him, cheeks flushed and eyes bright despite the breathless way he inhaled. “Careful,” he echoed sweetly.

Sharpness stared down at him, momentarily speechless. 

He’s such an ass.

Well, if Sharpness had learned anything in the last ten minutes, it was that there was a surefire way to deal with Judelow’s sharp tongue. He leaned in and kissed him again, slower this time, controlled and deliberate, making sure to tell Jude that he would dictate the pace from here on out.

Jude melted into it despite himself, curving upward into Sharpness’s grasp and pulling desperately at his armor.

—

Judelow

Jude could not think.

His ears still tingled faintly where Sharpness had been tracing them, each lingering brush of his thumb sending aftershocks through his spine that made his limbs feel loose and unreliable. Every time Sharpness shifted above him, every time the taller man’s weight settled in a new way across his hips or thighs, Jude felt another rush of arousal curl under his skin.

Sharpness’s mouth moved against his with steady control, so, so close. Jude’s attention was nowhere but on the man on top of him, and he found himself focusing on the small details that he had never been allowed to study this closely before.

The flecks of gold scattered through Sharpness’s green irises caught the sunlight filtering through the tree canopy above them, and the color deepened when he narrowed his eyes slightly, like moss lit from beneath. His skin looked impossibly smooth up close, pale and warm and flushed along the cheekbones from exertion and embarrassment and something else that Jude suspected he had caused. Even the faint sheen of sweat along his temples only made him look brighter, alive in a way that made Jude’s stomach twist pleasantly.

Sharpness’s hands, by contrast, were rough, as calloused as they were large.

When they slid along Jude’s waist, the texture of them scraped lightly across the bare skin between his netherite chestplate and leggings, and Jude felt the difference between the softness of his own skin and the strength coiled in Sharpness’s fingers. The contrast made his head spin.

Again, Jude tugged impatiently at the buckles along Sharpness’s netherite armor, frustrated by the barrier between them. “This is in the way,” he muttered against Sharpness’s mouth, his half-swallowed by the mouth on his own.

Sharpness huffed quietly, though the sound held more amusement than annoyance this time. He pulled back just enough to look down at Jude, who was clearly seconds away from trying to tear the armor off by force.

“You’re so impatient,” Sharpness observed.

“You’re overdressed,” Jude shot back, already reaching for another buckle.

Sharpness’s earlier shyness had clearly been overwhelmed by a newfound confidence, one Jude found immensely appealing. He rolled smoothly off Jude and onto one knee in the grass beneath the shade of the nearest tree, fingers moving to the clasps of his armor with efficient, practiced speed.

The netherite came off in fluid motions, each buckle released in seconds as though he had done it a thousand times before.

Jude watched, entirely entranced.

Beneath the armor, Sharpness wore only a thin white tunic, the cotton clinging lightly to his chest from sweat and straining faintly over the defined curve of his shoulders and the firm line of his torso. The fabric was almost sheer in places where it stretched across muscle, revealing the shape beneath without fully exposing it.

Fuck, he’s so hot.

The thought echoed through his mind with such clarity that he felt a laugh bubble up in disbelief.

He scrambled to sit up and began stripping off his own netherite leggings and chestplate in quick, eager motions, tossing them aside for mobility. Beneath, he wore a similar shirt, though his was darker, and simple black trousers that clung to his hips.

When Jude looked up again, Sharpness was watching him.

Hungry.

There was no other word for it. His gaze dragged slowly down Jude’s body, unhurried and openly appreciative, and Jude felt heat flood his face at the intensity of it.

“See something you like?” Jude asked, though his voice wavered faintly despite the bravado.

Sharpness’s mouth curved at one corner. “Maybe.”

Uncaring of how desperate he might look, Jude half crawled across the grass toward him, knees brushing over crushed blades and loose dirt until he reached where Sharpness knelt beneath the tree. The shade softened the light along Sharpness’s skin, casting delicate shadows that only sharpened the planes of his face.

Sharpness gave him no time to settle before his hand shot out and fisted the front of Jude’s shirt, hauling him forward.

Their lips crashed together again, harder this time, messier.

Jude braced his hands against Sharpness’s chest as they tipped backward onto the grass, Sharpness’s brad back hitting the trunk of the tree. For the first time, his palms met skin without armor between them. The cotton tunic was thin enough that he could feel the heat of Sharpness’s body through it, the firm plane of muscle beneath.

He spread his fingers, exploring.

Sharpness inhaled sharply when Jude squeezed experimentally at his chest, fingers pressing into the solid curve of muscle he had been admiring all afternoon.

Jude grinned into the kiss and did it again.

Sharpness made a small, startled noise that sent a thrill through Jude’s entire body. The blonde’s hands slid from Jude’s waist, following the curve of Jude’s back until his broad palms came to settle firmly over Jude’s ass before Sharpness squeezed in retaliation. The feeling made Jude squeak involuntarily, the sound high and completely involuntary.

He pulled back with wide eyes. “What was that for, asshole!”

Sharpness shrugged, though the faint flush across his cheeks betrayed him. “Don’t dish if you can’t take.”

Jude huffed in exaggerated offense, though his lips were already curving again.

“Oh, you want to play like that, huh?” he murmured.

He leaned down and pressed an open-mouthed kiss just beneath Sharpness’s jaw, feeling the subtle jump of the muscle there beneath his lips. He trailed lower along the smooth line of his neck, the skin warm and faintly salted from sweat.

Sharpness’s breathing hitched as he tightened his grip on Jude’s ass, pulling him closer.

Jude smiled against his throat and continued downward, leaving slow, deliberate kisses along the delicate curve where neck met shoulder. When he reached the juncture between them, he bit down, just hard enough to hurt.

Sharpness gasped. The sound was sharp and surprised, and it sent a bright flash of satisfaction through Jude.

“You dick,” Sharpness cursed, though his hand slid up to the back of Jude’s head rather than pushing him away.

Jude lifted his head, eyes gleaming. “You started it.”

They kissed again, slower this time, their earlier sharp edges softened into something deeper and more certain. Jude tangled his fingers in the fabric at Sharpness’s shoulders, feeling the steady strength beneath it as Sharpness’s hands settled securely at his waist once more.

For a few long moments, there was nothing but the rustle of grass beneath them and the sound of their breathing tangling together.

All of a sudden, Sharpness pulled back slightly, green eyes flicking down and then away, as though the reality of what they were doing had finally caught up with him. His face flushed again, this time not from teasing but from sudden awareness.

“We’re in the middle of a field,” he muttered, running a hand back through his hair. Somehow, it had come undone, at the long, pretty strands were falling loosely around his shoulders. He looked like something out of a magazine. “This is—”

“Very scenic?” Jude offered helpfully.

Sharpness shot him a look that was equal parts fond and exasperated.

Jude softened.

He reached up and brushed his thumb lightly along Sharpness’s cheek, tracing the edge of that pink flush. “You’re really pretty up close,” he said, quieter this time, the teasing stripped away. “The gold in your eyes does this– this thing in the light. It’s unfair.”

Sharpness blinked at him, clearly unprepared.

“Wha– Shut up,” he muttered automatically, though the words lacked heat.

“I’m serious,” Jude insisted, brushing his thumb lightly along Sharpness’s lower lip where he had bitten him earlier. “You’re stupidly beautiful.”

Sharpness swallowed, throat bobbing, and for once, he didn’t deflect with sarcasm.

Instead, he studied Jude carefully, his pretty eyes flickering over the planes of Jude’s face. Absently, Judelow wondered what he was seeing.

Then, Sharpness leaned down once more.

Their next kiss was softer. Certain.

Sharpness’s hand slid gently to cradle the back of Jude’s neck, careful of his ears this time, and Jude closed his eyes as he leaned into it fully, feeling the steady warmth of Sharpness’s body pressed against his own beneath the tree’s shade.

For once, neither of them spoke.

And this time, when Jude’s bunny teeth caught gently on his bottom lip again, Sharpness did not pull away.