#( enjoy soft vautrin enjoying watching tartag with his siblings and falling more in love with him bc of how he is around them )

[daybreakrising]

@resolutepath: "You think I didn't notice the way you've been staring all night?" ( Tartaglia to Vautrin )

The cold outdoor air does little to cool the heat that rushes to his face, but at least it serves to conceal the colour that rises in his cheeks. He burrows further into the scarf that is wound about his neck, digs his hands deeper into the pockets of the borrowed coat that is far thicker and far warmer than any of the clothes he packed to bring with him. It's true, he has been staring a lot tonight, but can he really be blamed for it? Tartaglia comes alive amongst his siblings in a way that he's never seen before, and he hasn't been able to tear his eyes away. He wanted to drink in the sight, burn it forever into his memory as something to treasure.

There is a warmth in his chest that he cannot attribute to the hearth he has been sat beside for the past few hours, nor the delicious meal served before that. It is a warmth that only burns hotter whenever he catches Tartaglia's gaze, whenever that smile – a true smile, not the façade put upon for most others – is directed towards him. He knows this feeling, understands it all too well. The last time (the first time) he felt this sensation, he ignored it, pushed it down, refused to acknowledge what it was until it was far too late.

He is not making the same mistake twice.

One hand slips free of its pocket, gloved fingers catching first at Tartaglia's sleeve before they skim down to lace, boldly, with his. "I wasn't trying to hide it." Technically not a lie, he reasons, even if he doubts he could have hidden it even if he wished to. "You look different around them, you know. All of that weight you carry on your shoulders melts away, and you seem… free. Content. They give you new life." He understands a little of that – whilst he certainly carried no such weight in his youth, he remembers feeling lighter around his sister, nonetheless. "You'll have to forgive me for taking the chance to enjoy it."

He steps closer, his other hand leaving the warmth of the pocket to reach up, catch Tartaglia by the chin. He guides the other man's face to his as he leans in, presses a kiss to his lips. His hand drops to Tartaglia's chest as he lets the kiss linger, as he leans into him. He could sink into this moment happily and intends to – until a short burst of giggling catches at the edge of his senses. He smiles against Tartaglia's lips and pulls back with a bashful laugh. "Ah… it would seem we have an audience…" He meets the other's gaze, his eyes reflecting the warmth inside him, and he gives the hand in his a gentle squeeze. "I rather think another snowball fight is in order, no?"