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Their first kiss happens when Wanderer least expects it.
They are sitting in one of their favorite hiding spots after sunset, perched on a stone ledge so they can get a view of the sky as the stars begin to emerge one by one.
Sethos is talking, but Wanderer isn't listening. It's not because he's not interested.
It's the opposite.
He's not paying attention because he cares too much.
Every time he looks at Sethos lately, he notices something new.
The way his smile tilts slightly to one side.
The way his eyes brighten whenever he's excited about something.
The way his hands move when he talks, as though the story isn't content to stay inside him.
It's infuriating.
"... And then Cyno looked at me like I broke every rule in the game."
Wanderer snorts despite himself.
"There you are."
"What?"
"I thought I lost you for a moment there.”
Wanderer immediately frowns, having forgotten how easily Sethos could see through him when he got lost in his own thoughts.
"... I was listening.”
Sethos hums, giving him a knowing look.
"Sure, sure, sure."
"I was!”
“You haven't heard a word I've said for the past five minutes."
Wanderer opens his mouth to protest, but then closes it stubbornly, narrowing his eyes at Sethos.
"I heard enough."
A grin immediately spreads across Sethos' face.
"Go on, then."
"Don't start."
"Tell me what I was talking about."
Wanderer considers standing up and throwing him off the ledge, but that would require admitting defeat, which he refuses to do.
Sethos waits patiently, not breaking eye contact for a single second.
"... Cyno."
"An excellent start."
"Tch. Shut up."
Sethos laughs brightly, his body shaking with it.
Wanderer hates that laugh.
He hates how fond of it he's become.
A comfortable silence settles between them after Sethos calms down, neither of them feeling the need to fill it.
The wind brushes against their clothes, and Wanderer becomes aware of how close Sethos is.
Too close. Closer than he's ready for.
Sethos' smile softens, the teasing glint disappearing from his eyes, replaced by something vulnerable instead.
"Hat Guy."
His voice is too quiet. Too soft. The kind that feels dangerous because he knows what's coming next.
Wanderer knows he should move, maybe even say something sarcastic and look away before this can go any further.
Instead, he just stares into those eyes that feel hypnotizing every time he looks into them.
And Sethos leans in slowly, giving him every chance to stop it.
He knows he should stop it.
He doesn't.
He can't when he has wanted this for so long, even if he keeps trying to deny it.
Sethos stops just a breath away anyway, and the world seems to narrow until there's nothing left except the space between them.
He’s close enough now that Wanderer can see every tiny detail he normally forces himself to ignore: the faint freckles dusting his skin, the way his lashes catch in the light, the nervous uncertainty hidden beneath his usual confidence.
He's giving him one last chance to stop this. An out.
Wanderer hates him for that.
Because if Sethos had simply kissed him, Wanderer could have blamed him afterward. He could have called him reckless or annoying and pretended none of this was his fault.
Instead, Sethos waits, and Wanderer chooses.
His hand moves before he can second-guess himself, catching lightly on the fabric of Sethos' sleeve, and he closes the remaining distance between them.
Their lips meet, and it's even better than all the times he has imagined it in the past.
For a moment, Wanderer forgets how to think.
The first thing that he notices is that Sethos is warm.
The second is that Sethos kisses him back immediately, as though he had been waiting for this too.
Something inside of Wanderer crumbles.
The world seems to narrow until there is nothing left except the feeling of Sethos' mouth against his and the hand still curled around his sleeve.
It isn't dramatic.
There are no fireworks. No sudden revelations. Just warmth and the dizzying realization that this is real.
That Sethos is real. That this is actually happening.
The kiss is soft enough that Wanderer wonders if he’s imagining it. If this is another one of his fantasies that he forces himself to pretend that they never happened.
But then Sethos makes a content sound, and suddenly it's impossible to pretend it’s not happening.
Wanderer pulls back quickly as if he's been burned.
The silence that follows feels deafening.
For a brief, awful moment, Sethos just stares at him, confusion written all over his face, which becomes concern in seconds.
"Hat Guy?"
Wanderer stands so fast that his foot nearly slips on the edge of the stone ledge.
He feels like he's hyperventilating despite not needing to breathe.
The kiss still lingers in his mind, vivid and impossible to ignore.
Sethos had kissed him back. He even tried to initiate it. He wanted to kiss him.
The realization crashes into him with terrifying force. It shouldn't feel as devastating as it does.
This is real.
Not some passing fantasy he can bury and pretend like it didn't cross his mind.
It's real, and suddenly that feels like the worst thing in the world.
"Hat Guy?"
Sethos repeats as he rises to his feet carefully as though he's approaching a frightened animal.
Wanderer hates that Sethos is still acting so caring with him.
He hates that Sethos already knows something is wrong. He hates that Sethos always knows.
"We shouldn't have done that." The words come out sharper than intended.
Sethos freezes, and for a painful second, hurt flickers across his expression, but it disappears so quickly that most people wouldn't have noticed.
Except Wanderer does. He does because he's come to memorize everything about the man in front of him.
"What?"
"We shouldn't have done that."
"Why?"
The question is simple, reasonable enough since things were fine just a minute ago, but Wanderer doesn't have an answer.
At least not one he can explain.
How is he supposed to explain that the kiss itself isn't the problem? The problem is that it felt right. Too right. Enough to make him forget himself for a few impossible seconds.
"You don't understand."
"Then explain it to me."
"I can't."
The frustration in Sethos' eyes deepens.
"You're not making any sense."
"I know."
"Then help me."
The plea catches him off guard because he's expecting anger, not understanding, but of course that Sethos is trying to remain patient because he wants to know what's going through his head.
That makes everything worse.
Because Wanderer wants to let him. For one reckless moment, he almost does.
He almost steps forward to pull him into a hug to admit the truth that he's terrified. That, for a few seconds during that kiss, he'd felt happier than he had in a very long time, and it scared him more than it should have.
"You don't have to explain it perfectly."
"..."
"Just tell me what's wrong.”
Wanderer takes another step back instead.
The movement is small, but Sethos notices it immediately, and the hope in his eyes dim.
“Jun.”
Wanderer looks away, unable to maintain eye contact because Sethos is using his real name now, and it isn't fair. He doesn't want to give in. He can't give in.
"It never lasts."
Sethos frowns.
"What doesn't?"
Wanderer laughs once, bitter and humorless.
"Any of it.”
“Jun.”
The way Sethos says it is different this time. It's softer, sadder, almost like he's pitying him, and he hates it.
“Look at me.”
“No.”
“Please?”
Wanderer’s stomach drops because Sethos sounds so defeated, and it's all his fault. Still, he keeps his eyes stubbornly glued to the floor.
“... Was I wrong about us?”
The question hits harder than it should.
If he hadn't enjoyed their time together, he could walk away without looking back. Without caring if Sethos got hurt by his rejection, but he cares. He cares too much.
"No."
His voice barely rises above a whisper.
Sethos blinks in disbelief.
"Then why are you acting like this?"
Wanderer swallows hard. The truth presses against the back of his throat almost like he's choking him, rendering him speechless for a moment.
The thought of Sethos walking away weighs heavily on him. He doesn't know how to imagine a future where Sethos isn't part of it anymore.
But he can't say that, so he settles for the only thing he can manage.
"This can't happen. It was a mistake."
Sethos stares at him.
"What?"
Wanderer closes his eyes because he can't bear to imagine the hope in Sethos' eyes. He knows that if he looks at him, he might take everything back.
"It was a mistake," he repeats quietly.
The words feel wrong the moment they leave his mouth.
Sethos' expression falls, the heartbreak obvious on his face.
“Don’t make this harder than it should be, Sethos.”
For the first time since they met, Wanderer wishes Sethos would stop being so understanding and patient with him when he doesn't deserve it.
The worst part of all of this is that Sethos doesn't argue. He doesn't get angry or demand an explanation. He just stands there silently as if he's waiting for Wanderer to take it back or explain further.
Wanderer doesn't.
Eventually, Sethos lowers his gaze.
"Okay."
One word. That's all he says, yet it feels worse than any physical blow ever could.
He gives a small nod and then turns away.
Wanderer feels something in him break because this is it. It's his fault for not stopping things sooner.
A part of him wants Sethos to come back and argue. To keep insisting and refuse to let Wanderer run and ruin what they've been building together all this time.
But he simply continues walking, and Wanderer lets him.
He tells himself this is for the best before things become worse. Before he becomes dependent on something he cannot keep.
Even so, the thoughts sound hollow even to him because Sethos is gone.
And for the first time in a very long time, Wanderer feels truly alone.