#braid situation tucked down the back of his shirt due to Shame etc

[missyourflight]

warm and real and bright

little tangled au snippet for lovely em @powerful-owl 💖✨

There’s a little orange cat in the corner of the town square. Max bends to say hello, stretching his fingers for it to sniff at. The cat rubs its warm head against his palm, making a small mewing sound, and Max looks up to see Daniel standing there with his hand out.

“Come on,” he says. “I found us a great spot.”

Max helps him push the boat out from the shore, the two of them laughing as they get it going and scramble to jump in. Daniel rows them out to the middle of the lake and they float there, watching the sun set over the castle.

Max had only seen castles like that in books before; he spent half the afternoon leading Daniel all around the wall of it, pointing out the turrets and the watchtowers and the crenellations, exclaiming over the stone lions, pretending to roar beside them.

“That mane of yours,” Daniel had said, shaking his head.

The sun has set, the sky heavy purple with twilight. 

“Any minute now,” Daniel says, eyebrows lifting, and something inside Max is fluttering with anticipation.

As they watch, a single lantern floats up from the castle. Max holds his breath, and after a moment others rise to join it, like a flurry of leaves lifted by the wind.

Soon every part of the sky seems to be filled with lanterns, every way Max cranes to look.

“When I was little I always thought these were for me,” he tells Daniel, his head tipped right back.

“Bit conceited,” Daniel says, and when Max turns to grin at him he’s pulling a lantern out from under the seat. “Happy birthday, Max,” he says.

Daniel can’t get the flint to strike, a shake in his hand, so Max helps him, and they light it together, release it into the sky.

Max can’t believe it. When he was in the tower he could never have imagined this, the smooth stretch of the lake, their small bright light lifting with all the others. But the tower seems so far away, his father – he doesn’t want to think about that now.

Max thinks about what he’s feeling: about the shape of Daniel curled up sleeping on the other side of the campfire, the way he looked when Max’s hair started to glow underwater, his face. How his voice cracks when he sings; how he’s the only person to ever show Max anything under the sky.

“Daniel,” Max says, and moves, lurching forward so quickly that he almost capsizes the boat.

“Steady!”

Daniel throws his arms out to balance them, water lapping roughly up their sides then gentling. “There we go,” he says. “Stable as a table.”

Max is on his knees on the wooden slats of the boat. His cheeks are hot.

“Thank you for showing me this,” he says.

Daniel’s shoulder lifts, a small movement. “You’re welcome.” Daniel’s face always makes so many expressions, but now he’s just looking at Max, eyes warm and dark.

“Daniel,” Max says again. He leans in – slowly, this time – and Daniel’s leaning too, the boat perfectly balanced on the water, a thousand soft lights perfect in the sky around them, Daniel’s mouth fitting against his, Daniel’s hands in the weight of his hair, Max’s heart shining like a lantern.