Frost Heart → druig, marvel

Chapter 28: Innocent Souls

2024 - South Dakota

After a brisk, cold shower, Ayaz emerges, his golden blond hair tousled and still damp, adding a wild charm to his look. He slips into fresh clothes that hug his lean frame, each movement igniting a flicker of anticipation in his chest. As he steps into Ajak’s homestead, a familiar warmth envelops him, filled with the comforting aromas of home.

In the kitchen, Phastos is immersed in his culinary routine, the toaster’s rhythmic pop punctuating the air as he expertly flips toast. There’s an air of normalcy about him, a mask that barely conceals the heaviness of recent events.

“Oh, there you are, French freak. Had a good sleep?” Phastos greets, a grin breaking through the solemn atmosphere.

Ayaz shrugs, rolling his sleeves up with a casual flair, but he can’t ignore the flutter of emotions stirring inside him. “Thought you could use a helping hand.”

“Yeah, please.” Phastos gestures toward the sliced loaves of bread on the counter, his relief evident.

As Ayaz approaches the toaster, a nagging worry prickles at him. “Got any news about Hestia or Ikaris?” He slides the bread into the slots, adjusting the settings with a practiced ease that belies the turmoil in his heart.

“Nope. Both of them are gone. Like vanished into thin air,” Phastos replies, his voice cracking slightly. The weight of loss lingers in his tone, and Ayaz can see the sadness pooling in his eyes. In an effort to shift the mood, Phastos adds, “Anyway, Kingo told me about your dalliance with that girl from France.”

Ayaz scoffs, an involuntary smirk dancing on his lips at the mention of the moviestar. “Of course, he did.”

“What happened?” Phastos presses, his curiosity genuine, eyes bright with interest.

Ayaz watches the toast, his heart racing for reasons he can’t quite pin down. “Nothing. We weren’t in a relationship. It’s more like a friendship with benefits,” he admits, but a tinge of regret colors his words.

“Are you going back? At least to let her know you’re alive?”

“I don’t know.” He carefully removes the toast as it pops up, the comforting smell of bread grounding him in the moment.

“I think you should say goodbye to her without vanishing into thin air,” Phastos suggests, concern threading through his words.

“This is about Hestia, isn’t it?” Ayaz asks, placing another pair of bread slices into the toaster, his stomach knotting at the thought of his fallen comrades. “Don’t worry; she’ll come back with that wanker.”

Phastos exhales slowly, nodding as if he’s trying to convince himself. “I hope so.”

The sound of footsteps approaching pulls Ayaz's attention, and he turns just in time to see Druig saunter into the kitchen, his familiar smile brightening the room. As he nears, he leans in, resting his chin on Ayaz’s shoulder, exuding warmth and mischief.

“Morning, beautiful,” Druig murmurs, his voice a low, enticing drawl as he attempts to steal a piece of toast.

Ayaz glares playfully, even though the corners of his mouth betray him. “Sod off.”

Druig chuckles, pressing a soft kiss to Ayaz’s shoulder, his hands sliding around to settle on Ayaz’s hips. He begins to rub small circles along Ayaz’s sides, sending a jolt of electricity through him that makes it hard to focus.

“My beautiful, beautiful Ayaz,” Druig breathes, the affection in his tone wrapping around Ayaz like a warm blanket.

Lost in the moment, Ayaz leans into Druig’s touch, surrendering to the wave of warmth and affection that washes over him. A low moan escapes his lips, involuntary yet full of yearning, and he feels a rush of heat flood his cheeks.

“Okay.”

Phastos's voice cuts through the haze, a reminder of reality that pulls Ayaz back. They exchange startled glances, the intimate atmosphere evaporating as the reality of their surroundings sinks in.

Ayaz swears under his breath, heat creeping up his neck. Unlike Druig, who chuckles to mask his own embarrassment, Ayaz feels exposed, acutely aware of how easily he loses himself in Druig’s presence. The sweet thrill of their connection is coupled with the frustration of his vulnerability.

Phastos points at them with his spatula, his expression a mix of mock severity and genuine concern. “You two. Control yourselves. Remember, there are innocent souls living here under the same roof as you. Save the romance for the bedroom.”

Just then, the smell of burning toast fills the air, a sharp, acrid scent that jolts Ayaz into action.

“Merde!” Panic surges through him as he reacts instinctively. A wave of snow bursts from his hands, cascading over the toaster, an uncontrolled display of his powers that brings the kitchen to chaos.

“What did you do?” Phastos exclaims dramatically, throwing his hands up as bits of toast scatter across the counter.

“It was his fault!” Ayaz defends himself, pointing at Druig, who stands there with a bemused expression, laughter bubbling beneath the surface. “He distracted me!”

“You know what? Both of you, out of the kitchen!” Phastos commands, annoyance flickering in his eyes. “Out!”

“Fine!” Ayaz huffs, his frustration boiling over. He grabs Druig by his shirt, and with a quick twist of his wrist, he teleports them to their shared bedroom, the shift in reality grounding him once more.

The moment they land, Ayaz doesn’t hold back. He crashes his lips against Druig’s with a fervor that surprises them both, a desperate need coursing through him. Druig responds without hesitation, his hands gripping Ayaz’s waist, pulling him closer as if they were made to fit together.

In this world, nothing else matters. The chaos of the outside fades away, leaving only the two of them in their sanctuary. Ayaz’s heart races as they tumble onto the bed, laughter and gasps mingling in the air, each touch igniting sparks of longing and passion.

Druig’s lips move against Ayaz’s, soft and demanding, sending shivers racing down his spine. Ayaz is lost in a haze of sensation, the warmth of Druig’s body against his igniting a fire within him. He feels free, liberated from the weight of the world, wrapped in the embrace of the man he desires most.

Forget the games. Ayaz craves him. No, he needs Druig.

The kiss deepens, fueled by a mix of urgency and tenderness, their bodies colliding in a rhythm as old as time itself. Clothes become a distant memory as they explore each other, skin against skin, each caress a promise, each gasp a testament to the bond they share.

In that moment, it feels undeniably true: when lovers cultivate emotional and physical intimacy for a lifetime, their connection becomes eternal. And maybe, amidst the chaos of their existence, this shared moment of passion and peace is everything they need.