Chapter Text
Grief was a teenager and the world was wide open with possibility.
He was sprawled lazily against a huge rock formation out in the Steppe near Shekhen. He had tagged along with Cub and Stakh as they were sent on some task that required them to hike all the way out to the Kin village. All that he knew was that it had something to do with bulls, or herbs, or both. It always did.
They had sneaked Gravel out of that big house of hers, and the four of them decided to take the rest of the afternoon off. It was early autumn, a beautiful September day, and the twyre bloom made them all feel lightheaded and mellow.
His three friends were discussing something that he didn’t really understand. They had been on the topic for what felt like ages, and Grief decided he had enough. He sighed dramatically, and waited patiently for everyone’s attention, but only Cub turned his head, smiling that dopey Cub grin. Stakh and Lara were in the middle of a heated debate about some kind of “etymology” thing they read in a book that Grief found utterly useless. He was already interested in words, but he did not know what that meant, and he wasn’t convinced the other two really knew either. He took a long breath before jumping to his feet, and gazed towards the top of the large rock behind him, squinting against the sun.
“I’m goin up.” He announced, waiting again for the reception of this implied challenge.
“I’ll beat you there!” Artemy immediately got up on his feet. Back then, he wasn’t so much taller than Grief - only by an inch or two. After Stakh suddenly became a giant, Grief had more or less accepted his status as the shortest of the group.
Lara hesitated, but also stood up and brushed dirt off of her dress. That was not ideal climbing attire. She was probably considering if this was even worth trying, but she didn’t like being left behind, and if pushed, her silent annoyance would surely give way to anger. Her bright blue eyes twinkled as she looked up at the rock, attempting to plan a route as she tucked her hair behind her ears. She had recently cut it shorter so it hung just past her chin.
Grief looked at Stakh who hadn’t budged from his seat on the ground, and nudged him with his bare foot.
“Ugh,” came the reply. He glanced up as if it pained him greatly to do so. “What do you even want up there? You’ll just end up breaking your neck, and we’ll have to carry you all the way back to town again.” The boy’s long dark hair fell over his shoulders, his thick eyebrows knitted together into a frown.
“Boo, you grouch. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“Breaking your neck,” he repeated, his frown deepening. “Didn’t you just hear me?”
“Nah.” Grief rolled his eyes and tilted his head to the side. “Don’tcha ever get bored of being a stick in the mud?” Stakh glared back at him. He stalled, as if considering what to say for a moment.
“I’ve outgrown that kind of childhood whimsy.”
Grief stared at his friend’s earnest expression. Then, he promptly burst into laughter.
The other boy’s face grew red as it became clear that Grief wasn’t about to stop laughing at him anytime soon.
“Are you done?”
Grief patted him on the back a little too hard.
“What? That’s a riot. Whimsy?” He took a breath before carrying on laughing. “You? When?”
“-didn’t you have a race going?” Stakh interrupted him and pointed up, his usual frown back in place. Grief turned around to see Artemy and Lara halfway up the rock formation.
“You cheating fuckers!” he yelped, and began his ascent.
Despite Stakh’s initial protests and unquestionable “lack of whimsy”, he did eventually join the three of them at the top. With only so much room, the four friends lounged together, limbs resting comfortably over each other as they let the afternoon wear away to evening. They watched the distant shapes of the town, the bulls out in the Steppe, the people picking twyre in the spaces in between. Grief shifted so Lara could rest her head better on his stomach and so that his legs didn’t crush Cub’s as they rested on top of his. Then he leaned over and untangled Stakh’s hair from where it had gotten caught on one of his shirt buttons. His friend’s gaze shifted to him, but there was no real animosity in those big amber eyes.
Grief thought back to when they had first kissed. It had technically been a joke, mostly. He wanted to see if he could convince him to “just to see what it’s like”. Stakh had claimed not to care about this kind of crap, but who wasn’t at least a little curious? It was a fine kiss, nothing mind-blowing, but not bad. Though it wasn’t actually Grief’s first kiss, he had gotten Cub to kiss him with this very same line before, and he would even manage to convince Gravel a few weeks later.
These days, Grief had already given up any semblance of what respectable people would call 'dignity’. He flirted jokingly openly with any of his friends and usually Artemy was the only one to jokingly flirt back. But when he didn't get a snappy line or exasperated sigh from Stakh, he took it as a challenge to see how far he could push it. The results were sometimes surprising, especially when it was just the two of them.
Grief considered the strands of black that he now held between his fingers. Stakh had begun to let him braid his hair, when he was in a decent mood, and it was a good chance to practice what Lara had shown him before she had cut hers shorter. He lifted an eyebrow at his friend - asking permission. Stakh considered it for a moment, then gave a grunt that Grief chose to interpret as a yes. He wiggled out from his spot over Cub and under Gravel, then settled down behind him, combing through his hair before separating it into portions. He took his time with the task, relishing in the chance to be close like this. By the time he had finished, Stakh laid back down with his head in his lap, like it was no big deal. And it was no big deal, except it made Grief’s heart race even faster than it had earlier when they were climbing, but it was not like it meant anything.
After half an hour or so, the sun began its descent, and so did the four of them, carefully down the rock and back to the earth. They walked back through the Steppe, chatting about nothing, and when they reached the town, Artemy and Lara returned to their homes and their fathers. Grief had his nest out in their warehouse to return to, and Stakh usually bounced between the warehouses and the Burakh house ever since his mother died in the spring.
This was something that brought them together - something a little harder to put into words, though neither ever really attempted to. The friendship of their group was like a beating heart, with blood flowing steadily through all the four parts, but they couldn't pretend they were all on equal footing with the world. When Captain Ravel was around, it was hard to get a grip of Lara - and sometimes a tutor from outside town would stick around even when he wasn’t. Sneaking her away wasn’t always feasible. Artemy wasn't busy in the same way, but he too always had a home, a duty, and a father to return to.
The uncertainty of their futures was always hanging over their heads. At times the unspoken jealousy and resentment over their friends’ plans and home lives would rear its ugly head, and when it did, for all their petty arguments, there was a kind of solidarity that tied Grief and Stakh together.
That night, Grief was happy to see that Stakh had chosen the warehouses. They walked over in comfortable silence. This unspoken attraction, or intimacy, or whatever the hell he wanted to call it, was a relatively recent development but it wasn’t one that Grief would complain about anytime soon. Neither of them were in any rush, and neither wanted it to be something their other friends were aware of. But slowly, the boundaries had started to broaden. They had held hands under the dark of the night while sitting around the fire, then furtive, short kisses when no one was looking. It wasn't even anything extraordinary, it was the secrecy that made their time alone in the warehouses feel so intimate. The chance to see Stakh in a way that he knew nobody else had. The privilege filled him with pride, even though it wasn’t something he could exactly brag about. To be able to get around Stakh’s hard shell was truly an impressive feat, though Grief wasn’t really in need of any additional motivation to kiss his friend's dumb face.
But secret fooling around or not, that vertice had always been the most volatile of their friend-square. Stakh valued hard work, and clung tightly onto any opportunity to better himself wherever he could find it, while Grief… well, he didn't see much of a point to any of that, as it was. He preferred to preach about freedom and pull cool stunts. They'd fight and bicker and spend days at a time without speaking, to their other friends’ dismay, before making up and moving on, just to argue again in a few days. It was hard to understand- a heated argument one day, back to their (presumed) secret thing the next. Whispering and lagging behind in their own private world even when all four of them went on adventures.
Soon, Stakh became an official ‘apprentice’ to Papa Burakh. He took the position too seriously, in Grief’s opinion, especially when it began to eat into the time that the four of them would spend together. One night, when he excused himself to help out Isidor with cleaning (giving Artemy a cold glare for skipping on it), Lara and Artemy decided to confront Grief on their perpetual third-wheeling. The three of them were at their usual spot near the apple basket road, under the steppe night sky and around a bonfire.
“So...” Artemy had started, lounging on the ground next to Grief and nudging him with his elbow. Lara was sitting on his friend’s other side. “You and Stakh, huh?"
Grief didn’t take the bait, but he could feel his face heat up. All that he could hope was that it wasn't that visible under the dim light. He pretended to sigh.
"Ah, yes, the king of asshats…” He said while checking for dirt under his fingernails. “Whaddabout him?"
"Come on, Grief. The gig is up."
There were few that lived to see that mischievous glint in Lara Ravel's eyes, but Grief knew it well at this point. There was no running now, he might as well make it quick. He shrugged in frustration, raking his hair back and out of his forehead with his hand. He knew none of his friends would have an issue with them both being boys, but it was still embarrassing to be put on the spot like this.
"Fine, you vultures. We've been messin’ around a bit, the two of us, so what? None of your business. How’d ya even know?"
Lara held back her laughter, but Artemy didn't even bother with it.
"We didn't, you doofus. We had a suspicion, and you just confirmed it."
His eyes widened for a moment, and he covered his face with his open hand, eyes narrowed at Lara from between his fingers.
"Fuckin’ hell, Gravel. Grillin’ me with those military tactics-"
Artemy gave him a friendly pat on the back.
"Nah, buddy. You guys just aren’t that subtle.”
He huffed, resigned, and Lara’s hand joined Artemy’s on his back. Part of him felt almost relieved, but he couldn’t relax just yet.
“You guys aren’t gonna spill to Stakh that you know, right? He’d blow a fuse, I think his head might literally explode.”
“Worry not, loverboy, your secret is safe.” Artemy assured him, with a nudge and a nod of agreement from Lara. “It would be pretty funny, though-”
“Don’t even think a’ it. Besides, it ain’t nothing that matters, we basically just hang out. I mean, we, uh-” he stalled for another second before giving up, groaning and lying on his back, forearm over his eyes as if to block the already dim light. “-just forget it, alright? It’s nothin.”
Lara and Artemy exchanged a satisfied glance. They were curious about it, how this had even started - or at least Artemy was, but Lara shook her head when he opened his mouth to ask. That was enough prying for tonight - they’d better let him keep at least some of his secrets.
Grief was quiet for a bit, but eventually he recovered from the embarrassment, joining the conversation about some other silly topic they all knew didn’t matter in the slightest. In a way, it was nice to not worry so much about keeping things under wraps - took some of the pressure off. And as long as Stakh was kept in the dark, things wouldn’t have to change at all.
"Stakh." the boy whispered, lying on his side, torso tilted towards the other boy sitting a few feet away. The lack of response made him repeat himself, slightly more impatient this time. "Ey, Stakh."
It was a pretty boring day for their little gang, all things considered. The storm raging outside had effectively trapped them in, and to make it worse, Artemy had shown up to their warehouse-lair exhausted, mumbled something about lines or dots or whatever and immediately proceeded to crash on one of the flimsy mattresses they kept around. It was impressive how he managed to sleep like a baby on a thing like that with the relentless beating of the pouring rain against the warehouse's roof, but Grief had checked: the guy was down for the count.
Lara had a tutor this month, and therefore "homework". She had brought her books, her pencils, everything, and although Grief had spent a good hour doodling with her things, he had now grown bored of it and she was still absorbed in her studies. He knew better than to bother her when she got like this - caught up in a world that he didn't understand and didn't have any desire to be part of, and yet seemed to matter so much to her.
So that left Stakh - technically. The boy seemed at least slightly more rested than Artemy, sitting there criss-cross with a book in his hands and a concentrated frown on his face. A book, Grief thought - that was easy to beat. It was true that he had been ignored so far, but that was fine, it was just like Stakh to never make things easy, and he could appreciate that.
"Stakh." he said again, louder, almost dropping the pretense of whispering. The other boy didn't move, but from the corner of his eyes Grief saw Lara's gaze flicker toward him before returning to the book in front of her. No, this just wouldn't do. He had heard enough from Gravel for interrupting her homework time before and he wasn't interested in hearing any more.
He started considering his options - he could always get up and go bother Stakh directly, but it didn't feel like the situation was that desperate yet, so he devised a better idea: a paper ball. He took a couple of sheets from his earlier doodles (had to be more than one, for mass) and crumpled them together into a very efficient paper ball that was then launched towards the back of his friend's head. It hit the target with a soft but satisfying sound.
Stakh winced, and it took an outstanding amount of self-control not to pick up the paper ball and try to shove it down Grief's throat. But no, that would be admitting defeat - the little pest wanted attention, and he couldn't concede yet. It wasn't even about truly finding him a nuisance - in truth, he had read this book before, and was frankly a little bored, so the distraction wasn’t entirely unwelcome. No, he ignored him purely out of spite, a position that had been cemented by that damned paper ball. And Grief knew all of that - of course, the fool was a lot less dumb than he liked to pretend he was. Most of the time, he even seemed to be willing to back off when Stakh actually wanted to be left alone, so he allowed for times like these, too. It was a pretty stupid game, but that's how all games are, aren't they? To have fun you have to indulge in stupid a bit. To his credit, Grief seemed to be better at it than any of them.
The sound of the rain masked the sound of movement, and it took Stakh by surprise when he felt the sudden proximity, a warm presence almost against his back, making him tense up, blood rushing to his face. Then fingers running over his hair, tugging slightly, pulling it to the side so the invader of his personal space could rest his chin on his shoulder. "Hey, jackass. You ignorin' me?"
"Yeah."
Silence. Artemy's snores sounded significantly louder.
"Yeah?" Grief asked, eyebrows raised, sounding genuinely unsure.
"Yeah. Didn't you hear me?"
"Hm." He could see the outline of Stakh's smirk from this position, and smiled back. Smartass. With another glance towards Lara (nose still buried in her work) and Artemy (still passed out), he shifted behind his friend, putting his arms around him. "Not doing that great of a job, then."
They kept whispering, confident the weather would provide cover.
"Don’t need your approval." Silence.
"-okay, huh," Grief leaned in further, trying to see his friend's whole face. "Imma need ya to be more clear if ya want me to back off. I was thinkin' we-"
Stakh turned his face, lips brushing against his friend’s cheek as he spoke, mumbling. "Shut up, she's going to hear you."
Grief jerked back in surprise, then opened a big smile, hiding his blushing face on his friend's hair.
"Gotcha. Quiet as a mouse, leave it to me."
"-just go, I'll follow." Stakh cut in before he could say more, which earned him an even bigger grin.
"Promise?" Grief booped his nose with his finger, grinning. Stakh side-eyed him.
"Get out of here." The tone was sly, playful, and he didn't need to be told twice, crawling off beyond the mat where Artemy slept and into his own “room”, which was blocked from view by a few bolts of fabric and some empty crates.
Stakh followed a couple of minutes later, closing his book and walking off with such rehearsed casualness that Lara would have been suspicious, had she looked up. But of course she didn't, Lara was busy dealing with real things, for her real future.
Grief grabbed at his ankle when he got past the crates, and Stakh shook him off with a 'shh' before flopping down and being immediately taken in a tight hug. It would feel strange to remember it years later, this kind of hug - Grief stopped giving them away so freely not that long after, and Stakh had never been a big hugger, even more so now that his limbs had grown so much longer and awkward so quickly. But the spontaneity of the hug as Grief pulled him down was such that he couldn't stop himself from wrapping his arms around his waist as they tumbled down, his friend peppering his face with short kisses.
The distraction lasted a little less than half an hour, since more than that would be more suspicious than Stakh was willing to be (Grief knew Lara was well aware of things at this point, and found it hard to resist the temptation to protest). Rubin went back for his book, skimmed through the pages, and waited. At one point, a loud thunder startled Artemy awake, and Lara put away her homework not long after, then Grief left his hiding place and joined the group again.
The storm lasted several more hours - well into the night, leaving them trapped inside the warehouse for the meanwhile, but with all the chatting and making up games to pass the time it didn't really feel that long. Even as the relationships between all four of them grew tense, each of them would look back on these evenings fondly.