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babygirlbdubs · 2 years

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ethubs + 7? :D

handwritten / promised (x) (2336 words) (help)

cw// suggestive (heavy making out whoops)

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Kings rise.

Empires fall.

There is no peace, even in the jungle.

***

It started with murmurs in hidden meeting rooms and messages passed back and forth between the resistance leader and his allies. They needed more firepower. They needed more assistance. The king had a whole court. What did the resistance have?

Not enough.

It started with a trek through the underbrush in a desperate search for the result of a dream. Etho had been quiet about where he was living now-- not even Bdubs knew. Etho offered safety and intelligence and skill. He offered knowledge.

If only they could find him.

It started with a discussion in a small hovel, three voices explaining their cause, one silent as he listened. The king is a tyrant, they told him. The king has gone mad, they said. The king’s claim must be removed, they declared. All they’d need in return is his assistance when requested, and the precious solitude of his hidden base.

Etho could provide them that.

***

The basement of the Monolith is chilly, though Etho’s jacket keeps him warm enough as he rifles through the few chests left unemptied. The last of his belongings are packed away in shulkers, ready to be moved out to his new location-- far away from the political strife wracking Hermit Village.

“Etho? ‘S that you?” a familiar voice calls from outside the poorly-hidden door.

Etho’s vulpine ears perk, angling toward the greeting. His tail swishes against the ground lightly as he immediately recognizes his visitor.

“Bdubs!” Etho calls back as he stands from his crouched position. “Come in!”

Bdubs is already halfway through the door as Etho turns around, his eyes conveying the warm smile his mask hides away.

“What’re you doing back here? I thought you’d moved out to the jungle!”

Though it's said with a light tone, Etho can feel the pang of sadness tied to each word.

“Er… Yeah. I have. I’m just picking up the last of my things, is all! Don’t worry, I’ll be outta you and Ren’s hair soon.”

Sure, the words may be loaded as his smile falters, looking down to close the final shulker.

“Oh, well. I mean-- Ren’s moved into the Crastle now, so it’d just be--” Bdubs halts, mouth hanging open for a moment before he continues. “Well, technically I guess it’d just be you.” He clears his throat. “I’ve, um. Moved into the Crastle, too. B-But! If you wanted to stay here, you could!”

“Nah, Bdubs, you know I need my own space. There’s no room for all my ideas here.” The shulkers are tucked away. “Plus, the jungle grass is always greener,” he jokes with a soft laugh, the corners of his eyes crinkling as his tail sways from one side to another.

“Yeah, yeah, you ‘n’ your grand plans,” Bdubs grumbles affectionately.

Etho lets out a chuff of laughter. “As if you’re any different, Kingmaker.” The title rolls off his tongue with ease. Where others might curl their lips around it as though it is poison, it almost sounds sweet in Etho’s mouth.

“I’m just doin’ what’s best for the server!” Bdubs stands a little taller with pride, though Etho’s gaze shifts to something almost despondent at the sight.

The distance between them is closed as Etho crosses the room tentatively, hesitating just in front of his…his Bdubs. “Some people disagree. Call him the Mad King…”

Bdubs’ nose scrunches up in distaste. “Bah! What do they know, huh? Ren’s doing great stuff!”

A slow exhale escapes Etho. “Just. Be careful, okay?”

Confusion crosses Bdubs’ face as he blinks up at Etho. “Yeah. Yeah, of course, Etho.”

Another moment of hesitation hangs heavy between them before Etho finally reaches up to his own face, peeling his mask down to press a soft kiss to Bdubs’ forehead.

I’m sorry.

***

Etho doesn’t speak to Bdubs much after that. A quick hello on the communicator on occasion. A horse left on Bdubs’ front step.

Bdubs speaks even less to Etho.

He’s probably busy, and Etho shouldn’t be fraternizing with him anyway. Bdubs is the enemy now.

The thought makes his stomach churn.

But he hears it over and over in Resistance meetings. The names Kingmaker and Hand thrown around with such disgust they may as well be curses. He hears of Bdubs’ devotion and loyalty and can only admire them. Even if it does burn in his chest to think too deeply on the implications of that devotion too long. Etho has heard Bdubs associated with distaste so often now it barely causes his ears to twitch anymore.

‘I know this must be hard,’ Impulse had said one night, and it’d taken everything in Etho not to snarl back that Impulse could never understand just how hard it is.

‘Yeah,’ was all Etho had managed back.

Time passes, and Etho wonders if he ever crosses Bdubs’ mind at all.

***

White locks of hair fall into Etho’s face as they loosen from the ponytail holding his overgrown hair back. The humid air of the jungle is something he’s used to, but it never stops making him sweat on the days where he labors over his builds. His mask traps the heat on his face, but with how volatile things have been as of late, he can’t risk an unannounced Resistance meeting catching him unaware. Impulse has swooped in from the sky without warning more than once already.

So, with the sun high and beating down on his back, it seems a perfect time to take a break. He wipes his hands on a nearby rag, redstone mixing with sweat on his bare arms as a reminder to properly clean up later. For now, though, he stretches his arms high over his head, his back arching as he walks toward his steadily expanding home.

The last thing he expects when he approaches his door is a barrel with a sign atop it.

ETHO.

His ears perk as he stares. Impulse was the type to hide a music disc inside with a message. Gem and Pearl would’ve left whatever items in his hidden mailbox for Resistance members only. Which only means… Ah. Someone else has finally found where he lives.

With narrowed eyes, he approaches, checking around for any signs of traps. His ears swivel, listening for any signs of people watching from the undergrowth, but all is normal. It’s… just a barrel with his name on it.

Shrugging to himself, he crouches down, his tail brushing the jungle floor. The barrel is opened, and the contents pulled out.

A clock. The time stopped at midnight.

Etho’s brows furrow, his ears flattening back. A clock. Bdubs is the only one who crafts clocks. Certainly the only one who’d gift a clock. Unless, of course, it was some kind of threat to Etho, but he doubts that considering… well… everything.

Running his fingers over the clock, however, he feels something scratched into the back. Flipping it over, it becomes clear what this is. Or, at least in part.

‘Crastle’ it reads in messy scratch. Handwritten.

A time. A place. A meeting.

***

The new moon hangs in the sky, hidden among countless stars. A good choice for a meeting Etho’s certain neither of them would want to be seen attending.

He rides in on a horse, black pelt nearly invisible in the darkness. Etho’s own hair and tail would be the most striking, but with barely enough light to see the path ahead, he doubts many would see him as more than a wolf in the woods.

Approaching the mountain upon which the Crastle towers, he can’t help but marvel at its beauty beneath the starlit sky. Everything Bdubs touches turns to gold. He’d said it once before, seasons ago, but it remains ever truer with each passing day.

His horse is left tied off at the base of the mountain, not suited to make the steep climb that awaits him. He pulls out his pickaxe and takes a deep breath of the cool air, the atmosphere in high contrast to that of the jungle.

An axe weighs heavy against his back. He knows very well this could be far more than just some clandestine meeting under cover of night.

He knows even better that he could never raise a blade against Bdubs.

***

“Bdubs,” he hisses into the dark as he hangs from the side of a balcony-- the only one illuminated by any light.

Silence greets him. Gritting his teeth, he adjusts his grip in the vines wrapped around his forearms and leans out to look at the moon.

Almost midnight.

. . .

“Etho?” a whisper finally greets back, followed shortly by the sound of boots against deepslate.

Bdubs. It’s Bdubs.

“Down here,” he says as he twists to face the balcony, tail lashing to keep his balance so he can pull himself up. He holds himself up against the railing, not wanting to cross the threshold without Bdubs’ invitation.

Etho didn’t realize how close Bdubs was to the railing, however, as he’s met immediately with Bdubs’ doe eyes mere inches from him.

“You actually came.”

The disbelief in Bdubs’ voice cuts Etho to the core. He tries a short laugh, tail swishing behind him a few times.

“Heh. Yeah. Was beginning to think you’d forgotten about me or something.”

A multitude of emotions cross Bdubs’ face in that instant, rolling like tumultuous waves before twisting over themselves and swallowing his expression whole. Bdubs looks as if he is drowning in them.

And then he is surging forward, hands reaching out, cradling Etho’s face to pull down his mask-- Etho’s breath hitches in surprise-- before his lips are on Etho’s in desperation.

If Etho weren’t perching over a deadly freefall, he’d melt into the kiss with reckless abandon. But instead, he hums softly into it, leaning into Bdubs while his hands grip tightly to the railing. He doesn’t allow himself to get lost in it-- not yet. But Bdubs’ hands are warm against his chilled face, and his lips soft and perfect as they lock against Etho’s.

But the kiss ends just as suddenly as it was initiated.

“You’re stupid if you think that,” Bdubs mutters against his mouth. “Thought about you every damn night.”

Etho would be lying if he said those words didn’t cause warmth to blossom in his chest.

“Well, I am the enemy, y’know,” he says, a facetious smile curling across his scarred mouth.

“Oh, shut up!”

Bdubs’ hands move down to Etho’s jacket, fists curling into fabric as the Kingmaker grips him tightly before helping to haul Etho onto the balcony in full.

“Y’know,” Etho starts, putting his hands over Bdubs’ before they can be pulled away. “At first I thought this might be a trap.” It hurts to admit, and the way his voice quiets gives it away. To think that Bdubs might do this just to catch him… just to make a dent in the Resistance…

His eyes betray what his words do not: I’m still not sure.

But Bdubs just steps closer still, gaze warm and affectionate as it meets Etho’s. “No. Never.”

“Promise?”

Etho doesn’t want to admit that his teasing smile is to hide his fears.

“I promise.”

It is the first time Etho has truly relaxed since all this began. And he relaxes right into Bdubs, dipping his head down to meet Bdubs in a kiss once again. He feels Bdubs’ grip on his jacket tighten, sending a chill through his veins. Etho’s hands release Bdubs’ to unbuckle the harness that keeps his axe secure, shimmying out of it and dropping it to the floor carefully-- just enough that the metal clinks softly against the stone.

That’s enough of a cue to Bdubs, who starts tugging Etho toward a pillar. The request is easy enough for Etho to fulfill, one hand cupping Bdubs’ face while the other finds his hip as he backs Bdubs against the column. Bdubs grunts softly but doesn’t dare break the kiss.

The pair’s lips move against one another hungrily, Etho quickly feeling greedy and tugging Bdubs’ bottom lip between his sharp teeth delicately. Bdubs gasps quietly as Etho breaks away to meet Bdubs’ needy gaze.

“I missed you,” Etho says in a low tone. It’d be a growl, if it weren’t so smooth.

“God, Etho. I missed you too,” Bdubs practically whines in return.

Etho’s eyes flicker across Bdubs’ face, committing each detail to memory. The starlight reflected in his deep brown gaze. The flush of his cheeks from the heat between them. The way his lips rest lightly parted, anticipating Etho’s-- ever patient.

And who is Etho to deny his silent request? Especially when it’s one so pretty.

Their lips lock together again, practiced kisses deepening with each moment until they are fully lost in one another, tongues and teeth familiar to each other. Etho presses against Bdubs, one hand reaching behind his neck for his fingers to find purchase in Bdubs’ curly hair. The other hand grips Bdubs’ hip tighter, enough that he wonders if there might be bruises in the morning. He doubts Bdubs would mind if there were.

And just as ravenously, Bdubs’ hands wander, unzipping Etho’s jacket to slide beneath. They roam his chest, his stomach, his hips-- pulling him closer-- before wrapping around to rake down Etho’s back. Etho presses him against the stone even harder, wanting nothing more than to be close to the man before him.

His mouth breaks away from Bdubs’ only to plant kisses along his jaw, tracing his jawline to his neck. Bdubs tilts his head to the side for Etho, who eagerly accepts the offering, tongue and teeth working to leave a mark. And then another. And another. Until Bdubs has a hand in Etho’s hair and is pushing him away just enough for his lips to brush against Etho’s ear.

“Stay with me tonight?” he mutters.

“Won’t your king be upset?” Etho murmurs back.

He can feel Bdubs smile against him.

“Tonight, my devotion is yours.”

#hermitshipping #ethubs #uuuhhhhhh ahahaha.... whoops i did it again #resistance au #i don't have much else to say except i may have been self indulgent in feeding my brainrot for this one #gestures vaguely #enjoy bestie #spooky.writing #fic #cw// suggestive #hc resistance au

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