Archive of Our Own

Feldspar has been traveling with the barbarian, with Tweek, for around a year now. 

He remembers the first time he saw him, somewhere on the battlefield between the warring factions. He’s not sure how the heir to the last barbarian tribe had been recruited, but it was clear why. Tweek was ruthless, easily taking on as many enemies as 5 men. His blonde hair was tied into a loose braid, stained red from the blood splattering off his axe as he swung it. With ease, he transitioned from axe to crossbow then back again, a rampaging force of nature. Feldspar had heard about the barbarians, often called vicious and brutal conquerors. Tweek was all that and more. Feldspar was running through the battlefield, weaving through the battling armies. He was out of magic and out of luck as the factions took down the armies of darkness. His only option was to flee. But he stopped to look as the barbarian attacked. 

He was beautiful. 

Feldspar couldn’t help but stare as the barbarian wiped his brow, smudging the war paint on his face. He took a moment to take a heaving breath. Then turned and looked Feldspar right in his eyes, as if he had known he was there the whole time. Feldspar stopped breathing. The world stopped existing around them. All he could see was Tweek. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to feel. Should he be scared? Angry? All he knew was the pounding of his own heart. Slowly, Tweek lifted his axe and pointed it directly at him. Feldspar just stood there, foolishly waiting for something to happen. Then someone swung at Tweek and the moment was over. Like it never happened, Tweek kept fighting and Feldspar kept running.

They had reconvened a few months later. Distantly, he remembers a quest they had been assigned to together, but it's been so long that the goal has been lost to him. He was never sure if the barbarian remembered him, remembered their moment on the battlefield, but Feldspar did, replaying the scene over and over in his head. 

It wasn’t that barbarians were beautiful in general, it was just Tweek. Tweek was beautiful.

A fact Feldspar had known at the start of their journey. He had hoped that their quest together would quell the fluttering of his heart and they could go their separate ways, but here he is. One year into an unknown journey and desperately falling deeper in love with the barbarian by the day. A pitiful conclusion to the thief who “works alone”

Honestly, he didn't want to fall for him. Didn't even think he could. Feldspar had heard of men bedding other men, but he never thought it would apply to him. Not that he wants to bed Tweek, or he does, but he also wants more. More than Tweek would ever give.

And Feldspar hates it. Hates how his eyes are drawn to the muscles in his back when he heaves his war axe, hates how he can't help but be endeared by his ever changing personality, hates how meaningful the gentle application of salve to his wounds has become. Feldspar hates that he feels in a way he never has before. Feldspar hates that this feeling is directed towards another man. 

He hates himself. 

Because no matter what happens, the barbarian could never return his feelings. Feldspar will never get to hold his hand as he desires, never get soft looks and gentle touches, never get to proudly declare him as his. Tweek could never love a man, especially an uncaring thief like Feldspar. Feldspar is a dumb fucking idiot to feel this way.

But Feldspar still chases, following Tweek through Zaron like a lovesick fool. He knows there’s no reason to get his hopes up, that they really should part ways, but he still wants to hold what Tweek will give him. He wants to stay by his side, even though it hurts. And Feldspar has always done what he wanted. If he wants to keep traveling and furthering his relationship with Tweek, even if he deserves a better companion than Feldspar, even if it tears him up inside, then he will. It’s no one’s business but his own.

Feldspar may make logical decisions, but that doesn't mean he makes good ones.

Tweek heaves the deer down across from their tent with a heavy thud. He gives a small wave to Feldspar in greeting before grabbing a small knife to skin and gut the beast. Feldspar does his share and starts the fire, digging the small pit and throwing in some kindling under a bed of larger logs. With a few strikes of his flint, the fire starts to take shape. It will take a while to really get going, so he directs his attention to Tweek, watching him carefully and meticulously skin and gut the deer.

Feldspar likes watching Tweek in his element. It's an endearing clash to his usual nervous demeanor, almost like he’s a completely different person. 

Tweek looks up at Feldspar and sees him watching, giving him a friendly smile before continuing his work. 

He’s still Tweek, though, at the end of the day. 

Feldspar pokes at the fire a bit, now big enough to cook on, and adds some additional fuel. Once he’s satisfied, he walks over to Tweek, reaching to grab some of the deer meat he set aside to cook. 

“No!” Tweek scrambles toward him, nearly stabbing him with the knife as he rips the meat out of his hand. “I’ll cook tonight. You just-” he makes a shooing motion. “Go over there.”

“But it’s my turn to cook.” 

“No! I’ll do it! I’m taking your night. It's mine now.”

“Tweek, dude, chill. I don't mind you cooking.” Feldspar is a little confused. He’s not opposed to fucking off and doing nothing, but he has no idea why Tweek is telling him to.

“Good.” He gestures to Feldspar. “Now go.” 

Feldspar rolls his eyes and makes his way back to the fire, sitting on a nearby log.

It’s later than they usually eat when Tweek finally begins to roast the deer over the fire. It’s past dusk, now fully night, shrouding the forest in darkness. The light from the fire dances across Tweek's focused face. Finally, he deems the meal ready and removes it from the fire. He gives it a second to cool before walking over to Feldspar and straddling the log to face him. 

Wordlessly, Tweek hands him a chunk of meat.

“Thank you.” 

Tweek doesn’t turn to eat his own share like usual. Instead, he sits there, patiently waiting, as if he wants Feldspar to do something. Tweek maintains eye contact as he leans forward, like Feldspar is incredibly interesting. But he knows he’s not. 

“Do you want it?” Feldspar says, confused. He holds out the cooked meat out for Tweek to take. 

“No! No. You get the first piece.” 

It was kind of weird. Usually, the two would sit across from each other and eat their meat at the same time, casually chatting. But tonight, Tweek is here, staring at him after giving Feldspar his share. He wouldn't be bothered at Tweek being beside him if he wasn't so confused. Tweek was his favorite sight after all, and he always looked for an opportunity to see his blue eyes up close. 

Tweek gestures to the hunk of cooked deer in his lap. “Eat.” 

Hesitantly, Feldspar brought it up to his mouth. Was he being poisoned? Was Tweek trying to poison him? That would be fucked up to poison him after traveling together for so long. Despite those fears, he unfortunately could never say no to the barbarian. So at his orders, Feldspar eats. 

It’s good. Better than normal, the best cut of deer with some sort of herb or flavor Tweek must have picked up on their travels. He swallows and is decidedly not dead, so he chalks up the strange evening to Tweek wanting to try new recipes. As soon as he swallows the meat, Tweek grins. 

“It's good.” Feldspar offers, reaching for another piece. 

“Thank you, Feldspar,” Tweek says, standing up. Feldspar turns to look back at the barbarian when he stops, inhaling sharply. 

He hasn't seen Tweek smile like this. Ever. It makes his heart pound, blood rushing to his face as he sees his wide grin. 

He did that. 

He doesn't know how, but something Feldspar did made him make that face. 

That's one thing he likes about the barbarian. Excluding the battlefield, there are no secrets. He can read Tweek off of facial expressions alone. And this is a very happy barbarian. He wonders if he’ll ever see him smile like this again. Feldspar hopes he does. 

He ducks his face down, hoping Tweek doesn’t notice how much emotion he’s probably showing. Feldspar is preparing to get away with it when Tweek inevitably sits down across the fire like usual, but Tweek surprises him again by sitting next to him on the log. They’re not close together, but they’re not far apart either. He can feel his heart beating fast in his chest just knowing Tweek is there beside him. Honestly, he doesn’t really care why Tweek is acting like this. He’s mostly just pleased he is at all. 

The night continues as usual, with the exception of the seating. They eat their dinner and swap stories, before going to bed under the tent Tweek had set up when he smelled rain. As Feldspar falls asleep, just feet away from the Barbarian, he thinks of Tweek’s smile, wondering when he’ll see it again.

After that, things get kind of strange. 

Tweek hunts, far more than he should, bringing more meat than they need. Always offering the first bite. Not only that, but he sharpens all of Feldspar’s knives and tools, even the ones he doesn't use and simply picked up to sell. Tweek also begins to bring various spoils of battle back to camp, always offering him a tooth (both human and animal) which is surprisingly charming, despite the barbarian always being covered in blood when he presents it. At one point he makes arrows for him, despite Feldspar not knowing how to use a bow, but then stores them together with his own making the entire thing pointless. 

Feldspar, though, just nods and thanks him. 

It’s worth it for the joy it seems to bring the barbarian, even if he has no fucking clue whats going on.

“Feldspar.” Tweek says, hesitantly. “Will you- uh,” He looks at him, and Feldspar can see the growing panic on his face. “Never mind. Okay bye.” 

“Tweek.” Feldspar says, grabbing his wrist before he could run away. “What is it?” 

“Could you,” He worries his lips for a second before bursting. “Could you apply warpaint on my back?” 

“Oh. That's it? Sure, Tweek.” 

Tweek flushes a bright red before shaking his wrist out of Feldspar’s hand. He grabs it in his own, quickly leading them to where they've left their supplies. Feldspar trailed after the barbarian. They were holding hands. Distantly, he wishes he hadn't put on his gloves on so early in the morning for the sole purpose of holding Tweek’s hand against his own. 

Tweek lets go of him when they reach their supplies, reaching into his rucksack, pulling out a big jar. He hands it to Feldspar and quickly sits down, legs crossed, facing away from him. Feldspar crouches down looking at his back. Tweek’s tattoos (and he was always shocked the anxious man could handle getting multiple tattoos) stretched along his sides onto his chest, ending right before they could reach his back. Deep black ink wrapped around his arms, flexing and shifting as he moves. Feldspar always wondered if they signified anything. He had always heard of barbarians having tattoos, but he never knew if it was for show or if there was any special meaning. He never asked. 

“Just, urgh, connect the tattoos with the paint.” He says, neck twitching. 

“Do you have a brush?” 

“With your fingers, man!” 

“Oh.” 

Feldspar sits down behind Tweek and pulls off his gloves before dipping two fingers in the paint. It was thick. Cool after being in the ruck sack for so long. When he brought the finger up to his nose to take a sniff, it smelled of some unfamiliar herb, earthy and fresh. Feldspar looked down at Tweek's pale back, trying to figure out where to start, but getting easily distracted by his rare view. His back is freckled and tanned oddly from the paint, scars crisscrossing the entire length. Feldspar thinks of what it would be like to connect the moles spanning from his neck to the bottom of his spine. Maybe, it would be his new favorite constellation. 

Nonetheless, he begins to spread the thick paint across his back. 

“If I fuck this up it’s your fault.” Feldspar says, trying to follow the guidelines burnt into his skin. Distantly, he wondered how Tweek painted his back normally. He had never needed help until now.

It’s only when he begins the second stripe that it hits him. He's touching Tweek. Not just in a way of brotherhood on the battlefield, but as something more. His finger is brushing gently across his back and it is electrifying, sending a warm heat through his veins. Feldspar can practically hear his heart pounding in his chest.

He wonders if it's appropriate for his non-painted hand to wander across his back, to increase the contact and truly feel his skin with his bare hand. He wonders what his darker skin looks like, splayed against his lower back, contrasting with the barbarian's pale tone. He wonders if Tweek would ever let him touch him again, knowing what he’s thinking.

As Feldspar paints Tweek’s back, the air changes between them. It feels intimate. Gentle and soft like he imagines love to be. He wonders if Tweek feels it too. 

Selfishly, he slows down, drawing the process out longer than it really should be. They both don't speak while Feldspar traces paint across his back, but they don't need to, a comfortable silence forming between them. Finally, after he's unable to push the painting any longer, he stops. 

“I’m done.” He says, wiping the excess paint onto his pants. 

Tweek stands up and smiles. It's like the smile at the fire that one night, but gentler, more bashful. He reaches down to pull Feldspar up. He takes his hand, relishing the brief moment of contact against his skin. When he's up, though, Tweek doesn't let go. In fact, he takes his other hand in his. Feldspar thanks his tan complexion for disguising his heated face.

“Thank you, Feldspar.” He says softly. Tweek looks Feldspar in the eyes and Feldspar is entranced. He stares into Tweek's eyes, getting lost in the varying shades of blue. There’s something about his eyes that is hypnotising. He thinks it could be the pupils, wide enough to fall into. Or maybe it's the blue that Feldspar can’t seem to put a name to. He considers it’s even the emotion he shows through them, able to tell a thousand words without saying a thing. 

Tweek stares back at him as if waiting for something. It's silent. They're holding hands. Tweek keeps looking at him, joyful and ready. The longer Feldspar is silent, though, the more his face drops until he is actively frowning. 

“Feldspar.” He says, squeezing his hands. “You painted my back.” 

“Yeah?” 

“You painted. My back.” 

Now Feldspar is frowning. Confused at what the barbarian is trying to say. “Uh, yeah? You asked me to?” 

Tweek looks at his face, searching for something, then scowls and drops his hands. Feldspar doesn’t even get the chance to ask what the fuck is going on before Tweek stomps off into the woods. Left alone with Tweek’s rucksack and jar of paint, he's confused how something so pleasant had soured so quickly. 

“What the fuck was that?”

At their next town, Tweek asks for some alone time as they wander the village. He's disappointed that he’ll have to miss their usual time together, consisting of laughing at merchants and shopkeeps, but agrees, spending the day wandering the market by himself and stealing a few things for the road. The whole time though, he misses Tweek. He never wanted to be around people until he met Tweek. Now, he tries to spend every minute with the man. He thinks back to the past few days, wondering if he had done anything that would cause him to not want him around. He can’t think of anything, but it’s better to think he did something rather than Tweek just not wanting to be around him at all. He hopes it’s not because the barbarian had picked up on his unwanted feelings. 

Tweek arrives at their meeting point right as the sun begins to set, his rucksack noticeably fuller. 

“What did you get?” Feldspar asks curiously. 

“Some books.” 

“You can read?” .

“Am I not speaking common to you right now, asshole?” Tweek shoots back.

Feldspar snorts. “Geez. Whatever, dude.” 

Feldspar digs through his bag. “Here. I got you something.” He pulls out an apple, the ripest one he could find. He wonders if Tweek has ever had one before. They’re not found very often in shops and can fetch a hefty price if not farmed locally. The price doesn’t really matter to Feldspar, though. 

Tweek looks at him and softens. “We can share.”  

Feldspar offers it out, but Tweek just looks at him. “Tweek.” 

“What?” 

“You can have the first bite.” 

“What! No, you have it!” Tweek pushes the apple back towards him but Feldspar just holds it out again. He did get it for him after all. 

“No, Tweek. I want you to have it.” 

Tweek immediately blushes, a pretty pink blooming across his face. Feldspar is unsure if he's suddenly committed a faux pas by letting Tweek eat first. He's never been good at the social stuff. But despite the heat in his cheeks, Tweek takes the apple from his hand, so it must be alright. Hands shaking, he takes a large bite and quickly chews and swallows. 

“This is very good, Feldspar. Thank you.” 

Feldspar tugs on the flaps of his hat. “No problem.” 

The two leave the city after that, deciding to head East where the next town lies. While they travel, the overhunting lessens back to a reasonable amount, as does the obsessive sharpening of their blades. He also ends his firm instance that Feldspar eats first. They eat together again, but still sitting next to each other. Not close enough to touch, but close enough for Feldspar to feel his presence. It brings a dangerous flutter to his stomach every time.

Feldspars sits next to the river doing laundry, scrubbing at their garments and huffing angrily when the stains don’t get out. He knows that getting blood out of leather is a bitch, but he can’t help but be frustrated every time. 

He's concentrating on his task when suddenly something blocks out the sun from above. He looks up to see what’s blocking the light only to find Tweek looking down at him, hand outstretched, a bouquet of purple flowers gripped in his palms. He's shaking as he stands there, but doesn't say a word. 

Feldspar carefully sets down the hide he had been washing to grab the flowers from his companion’s grasp. He looks at them, instantly recognising the flower without the sun blinding him. 

“Oh sweet. Cone flowers.” Feldspar says, looking back up at Tweek. “I also noticed we were running out.” 

Tweek stands there wide eyed, staring at Feldspar who gives him an odd look. Why is he just standing there, he wonders. It takes a moment of prolonged eye contact before Tweek turns around and stomps halfway across the clearing. He shrieks, hands reaching up to tug at his hair. 

“Hey, dude.” Feldspar says standing up. He reaches an arm out towards the barbarian but is unable to catch him as he leaves the wooded clearing, trees quickly covering his destination. 

Tweek gets like this sometimes. He just freaks out and panics and it's terrible for Feldspar to watch. He never would have expected it from the barbarian before meeting him, but it’s unfortunately a regular occurrence. Feldspar wants to help, tries hard to even. It sucks to see Tweek suffering. But Tweek has to want his help, and he's never sure if he’s welcome to try. So, generally, he has to wait for Tweek to come to him. Though, because of that reason, it does stroke his ego when he does seek Feldspar’s reassurance. He’s proud of his ability to calm the barbarian down. Feldspar is even happy that he’s the one Tweek wants, not anyone else.

He finishes the laundry with the barbarian on his mind, taking their wet clothes to camp where they can hang them to dry. But by the time he's back, Tweek already seems to have settled down. He sits on the ground, knees to his chest, picking at the fire with a stick. Tweek grunts in greeting. Feldspar hangs the laundry in silence before speaking up. 

“Thanks again for the flowers. I'm glad you got them.” 

Tweek perks up. “Really?” 

“Yeah.” Feldspar nods.

“You like them!” 

“Yeah, Tweek. I just said that.” 

Tweek relaxes and gives him that special smile that he’s been seeing more and more of lately. Jesus. It's killing him how much he likes it when Tweek does that. He wonders if anyone else has brought that kind of smile out of him. Selfishly, he hopes not. Part of Feldspar hopes that that smile is reserved for him and him alone. He wants to be the only one who can make him smile like that, and the only who can see it too. His possessive nature wants to claim Tweek as his. He wants Tweek to want him around. Not just anyone, but Feldspar specifically. He wants him to rely on Feldspar, to trust him like he’s trusted no other. He wants so badly. But someday, Tweek will travel alone again and Feldspar will be gone. If someone else makes him smile like that, he thinks, he should be happy that Tweek can experience the joy that comes with it because Tweek deserves good things like that. Frankly, Feldspar should be thankful he’s even seen it all. 

He sighs. 

If all he’s done over the last year was make Tweek smile like that, then the whole journey was worth it.

Feldspar leans against the outer city wall, waiting for Tweek. It’s not the exact time they decided to meet, but Tweek is usually early, running to the meet up point as if he was being chased. Today, though, he's still gone even minutes till the hour. Feldspar looks up to see the sun’s position in the sky, starting to get worried about the barbarian. With a huff, he pushes himself off the wall and starts to walk towards the gate to look for him. 

It only takes a few steps before someone taps his shoulder from behind. He grips the dagger hidden in his sleeve and turns, preparing for the worst. 

“What do you want?” He glowers, using his height to lean over the man. Feldspar's been told that he can be intimidating, even without knowing his reputation. Although, his mind reminds him, there is one person who's never been intimidated by you. Feldspar hardly glances at the man, only noting his pale skin peeking out from under the hood of his travel wear. 

“Feldspar.” 

“What did you call me?” Feldspar growls. Shit. His cover is blown. Tweek’s gonna kill him. He flips his dagger into his hand and pushes the tip into the man's stomach. 

“Feldspar,” the man says, annoyed and seemingly unphased by the knife to his gut. The stranger reaches for his hood and instinctively Feldspar goes on the offensive preparing to strike. He is only a split second from impaling the man when he notices the face underneath. 

“Tweek!” Even without the paint he could recognise that face anywhere. Wait. “Wheres your paint?” Feldspar asks, confused. He sheathes his dagger, and touches between his eyes where it should be before realising his actions and pulling his hand away. 

Tweek looks away shyly. “I thought I would try the clothing of Kupa Keep. Like you wear.” 

Oh. 

Feldspar took him in. It was definitely cute. Like this, without the usual paint slathered over his face, he can see freckles over the bridge of his nose. He didn’t know Tweek had freckles on his face until now. He wants to look at them closer to see if they would still appear when Tweek’s face was flushed. He wishes he had enough time to count them like he counts the stars in the sky. Tweek also has a pale scar that Feldspar’s never seen before, slicing from the side of his nose up to the corner of his eye. He wonders how he got it. Despite the scar, though, he looks more innocent. Not at all like the barbarian he is. He’s softer when you can’t see his muscular body or the intensity of his eyes against the black paint. He almost looks like a man you would pass on the street of a market and turn your head for, or a handsome baker that you keep visiting. The outfit looks good on him, but he does miss being able to see his bare torso. Overall, the look is different. Not better or worse, just different. 

If they were together, he thinks, would he prefer to immediately feel the skin of his chest, or would he like the appeal of drawing it out, slowly taking his clothes off one by one. 

“Feldspar.” 

He's thought about Tweek in that manner a few times. More than a few times actually, but he would never dare act on them. 

“Feldspar.” 

They are a fantasy nothing more. 

“Feldspar!”

“What, Tweek.” Shit. He spent way too long admiring Tweek’s new look. 

“Do you like it? Is it better?” He asks anxiously. 

Feldspar isn't sure why Tweek's so anxious. It's only some clothes. 

“It's weird seeing you like this.” He says, “But it's not bad. You'd look good in anything.” Tweek looks away, his face turning pink.

“Oh.” 

Feldspar wants to say more so he does. “You’re a very attractive man. How you dress doesn't really matter, dude.” Feldspar knows his voice is rather monotonous but he thinks he got the point across by the way Tweek hides his face in his hands and shrieks. 

Tweek is usually wildly competent and, though twitchy and anxious, he rarely gets embarrassed. So to see him getting flustered so often recently is a very new experience. The sides of Feldspar’s mouth twitch up. He likes it. 

Maybe he won't tell Tweek all of his feelings, but a few compliments here and there wouldn't hurt.

He doesn’t even remember how it started. Maybe Tweek walked over and grabbed his hand one day without reason, or maybe they held each other for safety then never let go. But however it started doesn’t matter because Tweek is holding his hand. He assumed it would be a one time event, one to treasure on a lonely night, but then he did it again. And again. And again. Until it felt normal to grasp the barbarians hand in his own. It fills Feldspar with an absurd amount of affection whenever Tweek reaches for him. He has never been a dancer, but the feeling makes him want to break out into an excited wiggle, like the ones he trained himself out of long ago. Feldspar never initiates, of course, but he never hesitates to grab back, always giving him a comforting squeeze. 

After they begin to hold hands, Tweek becomes more… affectionate? Touchy? He’s not sure which one is right. But one time, while he's mending an arrow hole in his cloak, Tweek walks over. He stands there, above Feldspar, without saying a word. 

“Can I help you?” Feldspar asks, lifting one eyebrow. Tweek crouches down until he's eye level with the thief and then puts his hand on Feldspar's arm, just above the elbow. He looks at his hand against Feldspar's traveling clothes and then back at Feldspar. 

“Uh.” This is weird, right? “What are you doing?” 

Tweek freaks. 

“You don’t like it?!” He starts to pull away, but Feldspar quickly puts his free hand on top of his, bringing it back down to his arm. 

“It’s fine, Tweek. I don't mind.” 

“Oh. Good.” 

They sit there for an awkward moment. He still hasn't received an explanation for his behavior and it doesn’t look like Tweek plans to give him one. It only takes a few seconds of silence for Tweek’s face to turn beet red. He rips his hand off of Feldspar’s arm and holds it to his chest. 

“Ihavetoleavenowbye!” he yells, running off into the woods. 

What the fuck was that about?

Oh well. If Tweek had a problem, he’d tell him. Feldspar continues his mending, daydreaming about the blonde until the hole is patched. 

It's only a week later that, while they’re sitting enjoying a calm morning, Feldspar makes a joke. It’s one of his normal jokes, something you'd only catch if you knew him. Honestly, it wasn't even that funny. But despite that Tweek laughs, leaving Feldspar with a warm feeling in his chest. Tweek shakes with laughter, reaching out to place a hand on Feldspar's chest to support his giggles. Touching Feldspar’s chest is different from the random grabs of his arm or holding his hand as they walk. Those could be excused as a necessity. While they seemed deliberate, there could be good reasons for it. This is different. This is a more suggestive location. A place where there’s no reason to touch unless injured. And last he checked, Feldspar has not received any bumps or bruises recently. Feldspar wonders if Tweek could feel the way his heart pounds underneath the layers of cloth. 

“Oh, Feldspar. You're so funny.” Feldspar does his equivalent of a smile as he beams with pride.

He's funny. Tweek thinks he's funny. He ignores the fact that many people have distinctly said the opposite, because they don’t get him like Tweek does. In fact, their opinions are secondary to Tweeks. So if Tweek thinks he’s funny, then he’s funny.

He puffs out his chest, pleased with how well the joke had gone over. 

Heh. Fuck everyone else. Feldspar is pretty funny.

Feldspar feels his face being stroked as he wakes up. Tweek is leaning over him, staring down into his face. Hazily, he wonders if he's dreaming. Tweek never wakes him up like this. Usually he gives Feldspar a firm shake, or a yell if he's panicked or they're under attack. Never softly, carefully cupping his cheek. He leans into his touch, closing his eyes as he drifts back to sleep. 

“Feldspar.”

He hums sleepily in response. 

“Feldspar, we have to go.” Somewhere above him, Tweek growls.

“Feldspar.” he says firmly, pinching his cheek. 

Oh shit. 

Feldspar sits up, nearly hitting his head against Tweek’s. “Whats wrong?” 

Tweek looks at him seriously. “Get up. We need to go.” 

At his words, Feldspar doesn’t hesitate to throw his sleeping hides off of himself and start pulling on his boots. He begins to pack up his bedroll when Tweek stops him. He grabs Feldspar by the arm and starts to drag him farther into the woods, seemingly in a random direction. 

“Tweek,” he murmurs, careful not to raise his voice lest someone hears. “Our stuff.” 

“We'll return.” Tweek replies. 

Feldspar relaxes. If they could leave their things and return, it meant that whatever scared Tweek isn't a deadly emergency. Whatever happened, they could handle it. 

Tweek leads him deeper into the dense woods they've been traveling through for a few weeks. He seems to know where he's going, so Feldspar dutifully follows. At one point, he gets tired of having his arm dragged, so he drops his hand into Tweeks, holding it the way they occasionally do when they need to stick together for safety. Tweek stops at this action and turns his head to look at their hands, just long enough that Feldspar almost detaches, apologies on his tongue. But before he can, Tweek is back to striding through the woods with purpose. 

It only takes 20 minutes before they finally reach a clearing. Not one like they've seen recently, trees canopying above them, but a real one. One where moonlight can pass freely and shine on them. Feldspar takes a moment to look up at the stars he’s missed seeing for so long. 

Tweek lets go of him before pulling the bag he'd been carrying off his back. Quickly, almost frantically, he sets out a large blanket, one of the special ones they keep for the winter, onto the grass. He sits down on it, legs crossed. Once he’s seated, Tweek waves Feldspar over, gesturing to the spot beside him. Feldspar walks over hesitantly, confused about what's happening. 

“What's this, Tweek?” 

“Its- urghh.” He tics. “A picnic!” 

“You woke me up for a picnic?” 

Tweek’s eyes go wide. “It’s- I thought you’d like to look at the stars! Never mind we don’t have to do this. Let me-” he begins to stand, reaching for the edge of the blanket to pack it back up. 

“Tweek. Wait.” He freezes. 

Feldspar sits down on the blanket, tilting his head up to look at the clear sky. It really is a beautiful night for it. It makes him feel warm inside that Tweek did this for him. He can practically hear the lovesick buzzing from his chest as he sits there with Tweek. His companion was one of the few people who seemed to listen to the thief. One of the few that seemed to care about his silly interests. 

Feldspar has never been sure where they stood, if Tweek saw him as just a companion in his quest, or if they were something more. This makes him think it may be the latter. 

Tweek looks at him before settling down and looking up at the sky. 

“What are your Kupa Keep constellations again?” He asks quietly.

Feldspar points up at the sky. “Do you see those 3 stars in a row? That’s Orion’s belt. You can use it to find the big dipper and the North star.” 

“The North star?” 

“Its always North. It's often used to navigate.” Feldspar tries to point Tweek towards it, guiding him until he sees the bright light. 

“We call it urtha.” Tweek says the name in his barbarian language, the one that Feldspar rarely hears from him. 

“Urtha.” He tries, the name rolling off his tongue. 

Tweek laughs. “No. Urtha.” 

Feldspar tries again, not hearing the difference.. “Urtha.”

“You’re not very good at this.”  

Feldspar can't seem to bring himself to be offended when Tweek laughs like that. Soft giggles at his expense. 

“It’s the lover's star.” Tweek says suddenly. 

Very little is known about barbarian culture. Sure, there’s the basics of what they do and their feelings on outsiders, but Feldspar is one of the few privy to some of the deeper parts of their tribal culture. Tweek rarely shares much about his life with his tribe, and even less about his personal history, so everything Feldspar learns from the man about him and his tribe, he treasures greater than anything he's ever stolen. 

“In the story, there were 2 people. They were from opposing tribes, back when there was more than one. They-” he wracks his brain trying to remember the story. “They were found out and it made the tribes angry. Two opposing people were never meant to love.” Feldspar turns to look at Tweek, watching his face as he tells the story. “The tribes killed one of them, and the gods made them a star in the sky. So they could always see their lover. It was meant to be a generous gift to the lover, but ended as a curse. It's a star that you were always meant to follow and never meant to reach. They say the living one chased their star until he died, always trying to get their lover back." 

The story makes Feldspar’s stomach turn. Would that be him someday? Always following and finding Tweek out of reach? Like the lovers, the two were never meant to be together. Things have been so good lately that it makes him forget that. Love between two men could never be. It’s not illegal, but morally? Socially? It’s something to look down upon. Or at least that’s what he’s been taught over the years.

The air is quiet save for the humming and clicks of woodland bugs. 

“Thats sad.” Feldspar finally says, unsure of what else to say. 

“Yeah…” Tweek laughs softly. “I bawled like a baby when I first heard it. It’s just so sad!” he waves his hand passionately “How could they have such a terrible ending? How could love fail?” Feldspar nods. “But then I started to make up my own endings. And it wasn’t so bad anymore.”

“How does your story end?”

Tweek turns his head to look at him, face to face with Feldspar atop the blanket. “After all of their struggles, the last guy dies and the lovers get together again. Instead of being left alone in the sky, he’s with the guy he loves. Forever.” 

Feldspar hums. “That’s much nicer.”

Despite the stars overhead, Feldspar can’t help but look at Tweek. He gazes at his face, his warpaint, his lips. They’re so close that he can see the few lines forming from his scrunched brows. Feldspar wonders what it would be like to trace them with his fingers, gently rubbing at the wrinkles until they’re gone. 

Tweek sits up. “Oh!”

Feldspar sighs at the interruption, but still gets up to listen. 

“I keep meaning to ask you something,” Tweek says shyly, “I need to know about your parents.”

Feldspar blinks. “My parents?” he says, confused.

“Are they still alive? Where are they?” 

“Geez, Tweek. What’s with the second degree?” He’s not quite sure where this is going and he’s not sure he even wants to entertain it.

“I want to speak with them!”

Feldspar's eyes go wide. “What? What about?”

“Um.” Tweek looks away. “It’s a secret.”

Feldspar nudges Tweek with his shoulder. “You can tell me.”

Tweek ignores him, putting his hands over his face. “Ugh! Never mind, man!” 

Tweek lets his back fall to the ground, grumbling as he lays there. Feldspar sets himself down with him. The two lay there, shoulders touching, staring at the sky.

“They’re dead.” Feldspar finally says.

“What! Oh no. I’m so sorry Feldspar I didn’t mean to-” 

“It’s fine, Tweek. They’ve been dead for a while.” 

Feldspar hasn't thought of his family in a long time. 

Their deaths were a devastating pain that, over time, has turned into a dull ache. He knows they would never approve of the terrible things he’s done. He has too much blood on his hands to ever call himself a good man. But he always wonders if he would have still needed to do those things to survive if they had lived. Thinking of them now, he misses them. Feldspar thinks of his cherished memories of being a kid, loved unconditionally by his mother and father. Loved occasionally by his sister (or at least that’s what he thinks she’d say.) He misses the comfort that only family can bring. 

He thinks he’s forgotten their voices. 

“You have an accent.” Tweek says hesitantly.

Feldspar’s eyebrows furrow. “I do?”

“It’s slight, but you know. I notice these things.” 

“Oh.”

Tweek pushes forward. “Did your parents have your accent?”

“My mom did.” Feldspar says quietly. “She brought me to Kupa Keep from the Farlands when I was three. I don't remember anything about the Farlands, though, only the keep.”

“Were they nice?”

Feldspar has to think. “Sometimes. They loved me and I loved them. But I was also kind of a shit head as a kid, so half of my memories are of them yelling at me. They didn’t really do anything besides scold me, though, so I still always felt like I got away with everything.”

“You’re still kind of a shit head, man.” 

“Thanks, Tweek.” 

Tweek is quiet for a moment. “I said this earlier, but I still would’ve liked to meet them, even if they were mean ‘sometimes.’”

Feldspar holds back a laugh at the thought. 

How would his parents have reacted if he had brought home Tweek. Would they be charmed by the deadly man of myth as Feldspar is? Would his mom let him eat 3 servings of breakfast in the morning, then snap at Tricia to stop braiding his hair? He can imagine his dad being shocked by the man, having never been anywhere close to a battlefield. How, despite being on the average side of height, he was far stronger than the average person. 

He wonders what they would think if he had brought Tweek home as his partner. As more than just his barbarian companion. Feldspar would like to believe they would accept it. That they'd love Tweek as their own, getting comfortable enough that they could tease and poke at him. He can imagine Tweek pulling out his hair over his dad telling them that they cannot sleep in the same bed, or that there's no “pda nonsense” in his home. He can picture, crystal clear in his mind, Tweek trying to impress them in his barbarian ways, trying to earn their favor for Feldspar’s sake. He would like to believe that they would want the two to marry.

Or maybe they wouldn't. 

Feldspar will never know.

Feldspar has never needed anyone. From the moment his parents died, he could only count on himself. It was that or die. Generally, people were an annoyance at best and a danger at worst. But right now, in this moment, he is lonely. A melancholic longing fills him, leaving him with the desperate desire to be cared for by another. He craves some sort of intimate connection, a mutual one. He needs something he could keep. He has been alright with his unrequited feelings for the barbarian, letting it be both a comfort and a shame, but as he lays on the blanket, so close yet so far from the man he desires, Feldspar's chest grows heavy. Despite how much he wants it, he will never feel the love and comfort another.

He sighs. He should just take what he can get and be happy with it. Feelings like this have always been a burden, and should have no place in the thief’s mind.

“What about you, Tweek? Are your parents nice?” Feldspar asks, turning the question back on the other man.

He sees Tweek shake out of the corner of his eye. “Ahgh! No way man. They suck.” 

He snorts. “Are they really that bad?”

“Urghhh… Maybe?!” Tweek raises his hand to tug at his hair. “I mean they’re my parents! I’m supposed to love them, right? But they’re so… Aughhh” 

Feldspar waits for him to continue. 

“Like, I’m supposed to be the heir to the tribe, right? So they’ve been training me my whole life because that’s literally why I was born, but it’s so much pressure! I don’t even know if I want to be the king! And whenever I tell them that, they give me bullshit run-around answers. Then they say they’ll sell me into slavery if I don't become the king or if I don't train hard enough as the king! I don't want to be sold into slavery, man!”

Feldspar turns to look at him. “Woah, dude.”

“Gahh, they make me so mad but they’re so scary!” 

“You’re scared? You?” He looks at Tweek like he’s crazy. “Dude, I’ve literally seen you take on 20 knights with, like, crossbows and shit without blinking an eye. You don’t even wear armor. How the fuck are you scared?”

“You don’t get it, Feldspar. This is my whole life. They’re always there waiting for me to slip up and prove them right. But they also expect me to be the best at the same time! And even though I’m king they still have too much power over me! It’s way too much pressure! That’s why I had to get out!”

“So you just left? I thought you were still the king?”

Tweek drags his hands over his face. “I am.”

“Then how have you been gone for so long?”

“I…” He worries his lip between his teeth. “There’s this old tradition about the king having to prove himself. There’s a few parts of it that we still do, like you have to defeat the highest ranking member of the tribe in combat and shoot arrows through hoops on horseback. But there's also a part where the king is supposed to journey and conquer and shit. Just do stuff that’s impressive and bring honor to the clan. No one has done it in years, but I was like ‘hey! I want to be the best king I can be!’ and used it as an excuse to leave.”

Tweek groans and throws his arm over his eyes in shame. He’s only like that for a minute before he quickly sits up. 

“You can’t tell anyone! Oh god, if anyone knew about this I would be exiled and killed with rocks! Rocks! Feldspar you can’t tell anyone!”

“Chill, Tweek.” Feldspar says in his best soothing voice. He doesn’t think it sounds much different, but he hopes it helps anyways. “I won't tell anyone.”

“Oh. Good.” Tweek sighs with relief, laying back down. 

“So do you plan to go back?” Feldspar turns to face Tweek, watching him as he stares at the sky. He needs to know. If Tweek goes back to his tribe, he knows he will never see him again. 

He needs to know how much time he has left.

“I have to. It’s my duty.”

“Fuck that dude. That’s stupid.”

Tweek hums. “Maybe I need a good reason to leave the barbarians.”

“You don't need a reason. Not wanting to stay is reason enough.” Feldspar says, trying to get through to the man.

The barbarian turns to face him, looking into his eyes. “Maybe I want a reason to leave.”

Feldspar doesn’t know what to say. Does Tweek want to leave? Or does he want to stay? It’s really fucking unclear. 

Tweek smiles at him, the one that he only seems to have around Feldspar.

Maybe it doesn’t matter.

“Do you want some berries?” Tweek says, reaching around for his rucksack

“You brought food?” 

“Yeah, man! It’s a picnic. I read about them. They have food, right?” He pulls out a few snacks, more than Feldspar expected. There’s berries, jerky, a bowl filled with some sort of homemade salad, some elven bread, and even some of the dried fruit Feldspar likes to pick up in towns. He gives his barbarian a soft smile. 

“Thanks, Tweek.”

The rest of the night is lighter. Feldspar spends it staring at the stars with Tweek, pointing out different constellations and telling their stories. When he finally runs out of things to say, they lay in comfortable silence, nibbling on their snacks. 

By the time dawn starts to break over the trees, Feldspar is exhausted, but content. Tweek has to practically roll him off the blanket to pack up, gently guiding him through the woods back to their camp. Just because Feldspar can stay up all night, doesn't mean he likes to. He’s guided back to bed by Tweek, who tells him to rest until the sun is higher in the sky. Feldspar protests, saying if his barbarian doesn’t plan to sleep then he isn’t either. Tweek just laughs and shakes his head. He knows Tweek doesn’t sleep during the day and generally does not sleep much at all, but that doesn’t stop him from trying to convince Tweek. His words don’t last long, though, as Tweek begins to run his fingers through Feldspar’s hair. It’s only a few moments before Feldspar begins to drift off. 

In his last fleeting moments of consciousness, he can only think of one thing:

I don’t want to forget this night.

Then he’s asleep.

“Tweek.” Feldspar stops in his tracks, drawing Tweek’s attention. “I need to tie my shoe.” 

Feldspar begins to lean down when Tweek gently tells him to wait. He stops and looks at his companion. Tweek walks over and bends to one knee, looking up at Feldspar like he’s fucking proposing. 

“Tweek?” 

Tweek taps his thigh twice. Slowly, Feldspar lifts his boot and sets it down on his thigh. Jesus it’s firm, he thinks. He can feel himself shutting down, his mind going blank at the sudden action. It's not fair that all of that is right there and I can't have it. 

Tweek ties his shoe in some unrecognizable knot and looks up at Feldspar through his eyelashes. Feldspar's mouth goes dry. Feldspar doesn't know what to do. Now that he's seen what Tweek looks like on his knees for him, he can't tell if he should swoon or save the image for the little private time he gets. 

“Um.” Feldspar tries to say something, anything, to get his head out of the fucking gutter. 

“Um?” Tweek says tilting his head. 

It’s stupid. Tweek doing something as little as tying his shoe should not be affecting him this much. But here he is, butterflies filling his stomach at the sight. It’s hot, but also so fucking romantic. It's an incredible gesture, one right out of the fairytales he used to read to Tricia, and of course Feldspar is just now finding out that he’s a romantic who likes this gushy stuff. Tweek probably has no idea what he's doing to him. Feldspar feels his brain melting as his knees go weak because of his barbarian looking up at him. He wants to loathe the man for making Feldspar feel this way, for making him feel at all, but he knows in his heart he could never feel anything but love for his barbarian. 

“Thank you.” He says, voice just barely above a whisper. Tweek nods and gently lowers Feldspar’s foot to the ground. Then he stands up and turns back to the trail like it was no big deal. Like this was an everyday thing. 

“I'll do your laundry.” Feldspar says hazily, feeling dazed from the experience. 

“What?”
“Your pants are dirty from kneeling. I'll wash them for you.” 

“Feldspar,” Tweek says with a grin. “You already do our laundry.” 

“Oh. Right.” 

Tweek hums and begins to lead them through the woods again. Feldspar stumbles after him, his brain replaying the memory of Tweek tying his shoe on repeat. 

(Later at night, he realises that the laces are tied so well that he can't get his boot off. He grumbles when Tweek laughs at him and unties his boot swiftly, ignoring the way it makes his heart flutter.)

It's about 15 minutes into a night where they feel safe enough to not keep watch, when Tweek says it. 

Feldspar hears Tweek tic then the rustling of pelts. It’s not an abnormal sound to hear Tweek tossing and turning, so he’s still able to start drifting off. The various noises he makes are almost like a nightly lullaby. 

He's just moments from falling asleep when Tweek sits up. 

“I'm cold!” he screeches. Feldspar sighs and sits up, wiping the drowsiness from his eyes. 

“What's up, Tweek.” Tweek looks at Feldspar. 

“I’m cold.” he repeats. 

“Seriously? It's like the middle of summer.” 

Tweek nods rapidly. “Yes. I think we need to sleep under the same hides. For body warmth.”

Feldspar stares at him. 

“For body warmth? “ he asks, confused by Tweek's absurd statement. 

Tweek gets up and walks to where Feldspar is laid out. “Urgh! Yes! For body warmth, man! What if I freeze to death?!” 

“Uh. Okay.” 

Feldspar lifts the edge of his hide for Tweek to get under. His barbarian smiles gratefully at him before shuffling himself in. It's when he's face to face under the hide when he realises just how small the bedroll is. He can feel Tweek’s breath against his face, can feel heat radiating off of him. If Feldspar was just inches closer, his lips would be pressed against Tweek’s. 

“Good night, Feldspar.” Tweek says, closing his eyes. 

“Night, Tweek.” 

Feldspars slowly tucks in his arms, pressing them as close as possible to his body. He doesn’t want to touch Tweek, doesn't want to make things weird between them because Feldspar made unwanted advances because his stupid feelings were flaring up. It’s even more difficult when moments later Tweek shuffles even closer. 

God. He could practically smell his hair from here. 

Usually, Feldspar falls asleep easily. He can sleep anytime and anywhere. Now, though, he's wide awake, thinking about the implications of Tweek and him sharing a bed. But surely his barbarian is doing it for practical reasons, right? “Body warmth” he said. That’s a logical reason. There’s no reason why Feldspar should take it otherwise. 

Feldspar is not an anxious man, but this situation fills him with anxiety. He forces himself to ignore his racing thoughts, ignore his desire to hold the man next to him and fall asleep with his head on Tweek’s chest. Internally he scolds himself. He has to be cool about this. Calm and collected like always.

His arms grow tired through the night, pressed to his sides like a soldier at attention. For a moment, hours into the ordeal, Feldspar considers throwing his arm around Tweek as a reprieve for his aching muscles. 

Then he thinks of what Tweek would say if he woke up in his arms. 

The night is long and as dawn approaches, Feldspar is still awake. Not touching, not feeling, not even looking at the man beside him. He tries to convince himself that he is the very picture of a person who has it together and thinks this is no big deal. He’s not sure if it works. He feels the bedroll shift as his barbarian begins to stir. 

He rises, right on time, with the rising sun. 

There were very few times when Feldspar saw Tweek sleep. If he did, it was only the lump of a body under blankets and hides. He was always the last to fall asleep and the first to rise. He never seemed less capable for his lack of sleep though. Feldspar wonders if he looked just as fierce when asleep, or if he gains a softness from his vulnerability. If only he had taken the chance to look. 

Feldspar squeezes his eyes tight, feigning sleep as Tweek slips out from under the hides. It's quiet for a moment before he feels a hand gently pet his hair. It's only a few strokes before Tweek walks away to get ready for the day, but it makes Feldspar’s heart pound. He doubts he will get any moment to rest at all today. He will just have to go without it. It’s not like it's the first time he’d done so. When he "wakes up" a little bit later, Tweek says nothing about their night together, so Feldspar doesn't either. 

It's funny though. 

He could've sworn his barbarian ran warm.

Feldspar tries not to glare as Tweek talks to the woman, back turned to him. 

Things have been going so well lately regarding his relationship with the man. They would occasionally share a bedroll and when they did, they tiptoed closer and closer to each other each night until Feldspar, without even doing anything, wakes up with his legs tangled with his barbarian’s and his face tucked into his yellow hair. Tweek felt overall clingier. Always reaching to grab Feldspar’s hand or finding an excuse to touch him. 

It was exciting. 

It was incredibly nerve-wracking. 

Feldspar thinks he's almost at a point where he can casually bring up their bedroll situation. Maybe make a joke about it. He’s pretty sure Tweek considers him his friend. Maybe even a close friend. He grows giddy at the thought. This was progress. It made Feldspar think that maybe, tonight at the inn, instead of their usual 2 beds, he could offer to share a bed. 

He thinks he might be getting greedy, but that tends to be a core aspect of thieves like himself. 

Well, he was going to do that, until this skank woman showed up. She had big tits and pretty blonde hair that shined in the lamp light. It was everything a man could want. It was everything he remembered the Lord of Darkness wanting. Of course Tweek would walk over and talk to her. 

Feldspar tried not to show how much it bothered him as he nursed his mead. He was fucking Feldspar. Nothing ever got to him. He took a hearty sip of his drink when the maiden laughed at some joke, placing her dainty woman hand on his chest. Tweek was funny, sure, but she wouldn't understand the rest of him, not like Feldspar does. She wouldn't like his freakouts and the way he needs reassurance despite being the most manly person Feldspar knows. She wouldn't know about the way he flipped from meticulously braiding his hair, to letting it get greasy and unwashed, filled with sticks from his travels. She wouldn't pay attention to the little things like Feldspar does. Would never notice the way he silently mourns the animals he hunts, or his preferred soap scent that Feldspar hunts the market to find. 

Ugh. Who was he kidding? They were probably going to get barbarian married and have a barbarian wedding and have a bunch of barbarian babies that would be the heirs of Tweek's barbarian tribe. 

Tweek leans in close to whisper something in her ear, then pulls back and smiles at her. 

Feldspar scowls. He could never bear children for Tweek, of course he would not look at Feldspar in such a way. 

He sits there, wallowing in self pity and seething jealousy when Tweek, thank god, finally turns and sits at their table next to Feldspar. 

It's silent for a moment. 

“She was pretty, right?” Tweek asks, leaning into Feldspar’s space. 

“Yup.” 

“She was very pretty.” he repeats.

“I know, Tweek.” Feldspar doesn’t want to encourage this stupidity. 

“Did youuu,” he stretches the word out as if he wants Feldspar to be annoyed. “Want to say anything about that?” 

“No.”

“What if I went and danced with her?” Tweek asks, leaning back into his own chair.

 “You’re a grown man.” 

Tweek looks him in the eye. “You wouldn't care?” 

Feldspar snaps.

“Jesus Tweek, just do whatever you want. Let me know if you need the room for the night.” 

He downs the rest of his drink and goes to the bar, dropping a few coins on the counter. 

“I need another.” 

Feldspar doesn't look at Tweek and his blonde haired bimbo for the rest of the night, instead downing drink after drink at the bar. Through the night, even when the drinks dull his clarity, he knows he’s being watched by someone. But every time he turns, he never catches anyone's gaze. It’s better this way. He doesn’t need a lay or a fight. He doesn’t need anyone.

He sleeps in the corner of the tavern, being shaken awake in the morning by his companion. Tweek looks no different, no left over marks visible along his body. His hair is as wild as ever, and Feldspar has no evidence that he did use the room to be with that blonde woman. He has no evidence he didn’t either. He says nothing as Tweek rests a hand on shoulder, looking like he wants to speak. 

He does not. 

Tweek had apparently gathered his items from their room, handing them to him before they set off on the road again. Feldspar follows behind him, like the lover following his star. But it's fine. It doesn't matter whom the barbarian wants to be with. It's not like he cares.

But he wonders, eyes trailing the loose braid down his painted back, how long will it take to convince himself that the barbarian is not an option and never will be. That someone as bright and wonderful as him, someone who people admire, could never be with someone like him. Tweek was reserved for the women with starry eyes and wide hips, able to catch his attention with only a smile. Not for a dangerous and dull thief like Feldspar. He wonders how long he can continue to pretend that he's not affected by the barbarian’s charm. 

Feldspar sighs as they walk the cobblestone road. 

He hopes Tweek holds his hand today.

Things are different after that. 

Feldspar is- He’s not upset. He just realises he should probably distance himself. It’s better this way. If he cuts Tweek off, he’ll cement into his head that he shouldn’t get his hopes up for something that will never happen. Someday he'll fall out of love with Tweek and they'll be able to be friends without Feldspar ruining things with his ugly feelings and romanticized assumptions.

So he sits farther from Tweek at the campfire, turns away when they share a bed. He doesn't want to leave the barbarian entirely, so he just pretends like nothing's wrong. Feldspar’s just a bit distant. It’s fine.

It all comes to a head when the two are walking through a meadow, still miles from the next town. Out of the corner of his eye, Feldspar sees Tweek move to grab his hand just as they'd done a hundred times before. He sharply pulls it out of the way, trying to ignore the guilt he feels when Tweek’s face falls. He continues walking for a few steps before noticing that Tweek wasn't beside him anymore. Instead, he's standing behind him, exactly where he had tried to grab Feldspar’s hand. 

Tweek stares at the ground. 

He can't see his face, but he can read his body language. Tweek’s shaking, twitching like he does when he's panicking about something. But as far as Feldspar knows, there’s nothing to be panicked about. 

“What?” he says, mildly annoyed. 

Tweek stands there and Feldspar really looks at him. He notices how tense his shoulders are, the flex of his sharp jaw as he grinds his teeth. 

Oh shit. 

Tweeks angry. 

Feldspar carefully walks over, not wanting to upset the barbarian any further. 

“Tweek. What's wrong?” If he’s mad at Feldspar that would be stupid and then they’d get into a stupid fight because Feldspar didn’t do anything wrong. 

The tension rises further when he refuses to even look at Feldspar. Still, Feldspar stays beside him, patiently waiting for him to let it out like he inevitably will.

Finally Tweek screams. 

“Are you accepting my courtship or not?!” 

Feldspar stares at him dumbfounded. Courtship? What the hell is he talking about? 

“I can't stand you, man. I keep thinking you've accepted it and me and you act like you like it but then I get confused because you do nothing! Why are you doing nothing!”

Tweek is gripping his hair now, tugging at it as if he’s trying to rip the golden strands out of his head.

“I tried the traditional way of my people and you ate the meat and I turned my back to you and you didn't say anything! So I thought ‘oh! Of course he doesn’t know any barbarian traditions, I’m stupid’ so I got a book on your traditions so I can court you properly! And you act all nice and like you like me too, but then you turn around and act like it never even happened! And now you won't even hold my hand! Just tell me, man! Reject me officially or tell me I should keep going! I just can’t do this anymore! I can’t I can’t I can't!" 

Feldspar is... he really can't compute right now. Because it sounds like Tweek has been trying to date him. And thinks Feldspar is rejecting him. But that can't be right. That doesn’t make sense. 

“Tweek.” Feldspar grabs Tweeks hands, gently pulling them out of his hair. He squeezes them, slowing Tweek’s angry breathing. Feldspar’s mind is racing, and he stands there silently, trying to figure out what the hell is happening. But apparently he's been quiet for too long because Tweek sighs, deflating in front of him. 

“It’s okay. I guess I, uh- I misread things. Um. If you want I can drop you off at the next village we come across. You don't have to travel with me anymore.” 

What is Tweek even saying? Why would he want to stop traveling with Tweek? Nothing about this conversation is tracking for him. Why is Tweek even talking about courting?! Feldspar takes a moment to take in everything Tweek’s said, trying to piece out the puzzle in his head. He thinks back on the last few months with Tweek’s strange behavior and his sudden confession and suddenly it clicks. 

Tweek’s been courting him. 

Tweek wants to date him. He’s performed all of those stupid romance tropes Feldspar has secretly dreamed of experiencing, making an intentional effort to learn the traditions for a culture outside his own, because he wants to be with Feldspar. He brought him flowers for christ’s sake, how did he not notice? And now he thinks Feldspar has been rejecting his advances. 

Oh my god. Tweek’s been courting him! 

“No!” He shouts, far louder than his usual tone. “Tweek, I don't want to leave you.” 

Tweek looks at him confused. “But you don’t like me?” 

Feldspar feels awful. How could he make Tweek think he doesn’t like him? How could he make him think that Feldspar wouldn't want this, want him. He needs to fix this. He needs to say something, anything, to make this right. Somehow, even with Tweek confessing that he returns Feldspar’s feelings, it’s hard to choke the words out. 

“I want to stay.” Feldspar has to say it before he screws this all up. “Because I'm in love with you. So yeah. That's it.” 

Feldspar looks away, desperately hoping Tweek doesn’t notice how much he’s shaking. 

Tweek’s jaw drops. “What! But you didn't do anything when I courted you!” 

“I didn’t know,” he admits. “I would have accepted your courtship if I had known.” 

“Wait- So you really do..?” 

Feldspar nods. 

He sees Tweek bouncing on his feet, seemingly thrilled by his confession, but the thief is struck by a sudden thought. He wants to say more, to speak poetry and all the cheesy shit he's been dying to say to his barbarian. But his rational mind wins out. He has to warn Tweek, give him a chance to recognise the stakes and back out. 

“But you know-” Feldspar doesn't want to ruin this but he has to. He can’t destroy Tweek and his future by being with him. He can't even look him in the eyes when he says it. “You know I'm a guy, right?”

Tweek tilts his head, his face scrunching up in confusion. “What does that have to do with anything?” 

“Because you'd be dating a man. As a man.” 

“Yeah..?” 

Feldspar feels the lump in his throat growing as he tries not to cry. “Tweek, it’s not- It's not proper.” 

“It's not?” He looks down, squeezing Feldspar’s hand in thought. 

Finally, Tweek hums. “Feldspar, in my tribe, men wed other men. To me, this is normal.” 

Oh. 

“But if you stay with me, we will likely travel Kupa Keep and the Eleven Kingdom together. And you yourself are from Kupa Keep. Is being… ‘unproper’ too much of an issue for you? Should I stop?” 

“No!” Feldspar protests, “I want this. I can get over being shit on because you’re more important than fucking propriety. I just…” He sighs. “You should know that people will look at us.”

“I don't care.” Tweek says looking at him deeply, truly. “You’re worth it.” 

Feldspar flushes, a giddy feeling building in his chest. Tweek wants him. Tweek thinks he’s valuable enough to fight for. The facts are there in front of him, stated confidently by the man himself. For once, Feldspar thinks he could be loved.

“Okay.” The corners of Feldspar's lips twitch up, until he's bearing a wide smile that he rarely shows. Tweek looks at him like hes the only thing in this fucking meadow. Like the wizard himself could come attacking and he still wouldn't look away from his thief. 

“Okay.” Tweek smiles back. Bright and brilliant, the way he only seems to smile for Feldspar. 

Tweek looks down at their still conjoined hands and back at Feldspar. He gives them a squeeze.

“So, if you've accepted my courtship,” Tweek starts, “Does that mean we can kiss? I learned all about your kissing in my book.” 

“Yes. Yes we can kiss.” Feldspar has never wanted anything more in the world. The feeling of want has never been this strong. The euphoric feeling he gets stealing diamonds and gold could never compare to what he’s feeling at the moment. “Please.” he tags on politely.

Tweek leans in cautiously, Feldspar can feel his hand shaking in his. He closes his eyes and puckers his lips, unsure of what to do. But it’s okay. Feldspar can teach him. 

He leans in without hesitation, pressing his lips against his barbarians. It’s not quite right at first, but Feldspar doesn’t mind. He drops Tweek's hands to guide his head, tilting him into a proper kiss. He has one hand resting on Tweek’s cheek, the other settling on his waist. He feels fireworks shooting off in his brain. It’s wonderful. It’s more than wonderful. It’s everything.

The kiss isn’t chaste, but it’s not long either. When they pull apart, Feldspar pulls them together, foreheads touching. He can finally look at him in the way he told himself he’d never be able to. He does it now, burning every detail of this man’s face into his head. His bright eyes, and his crooked nose, and his lips that he now knows the feeling of. In this moment he’s reminded of the fact that he learned early on in their adventures. 

Tweek is beautiful.

Distantly, he feels a bit like he’s going to throw up. Like everything inside of him is spilling out. He feels physically love sick, drowning in the affection he holds for his barbarian. 

And, Feldspar reminds himself, the affection his barbarian holds for him.

“Augh! I don’t think I did it right! Let me try again!” Tweek swoops in, kissing him harder than before. It’s just as good as their first kiss, the same feeling of butterflies filling his stomach. Feldspar tries to convey his love through this kiss, to convey at least a fraction of the emotions he’s been feeling in the time they’ve known each other.

I love you. He says. You’re incredible. You’re so handsome it makes me sick. I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my days in your arms. You are living proof that I can have good things. You make me sooo happy. 

And Tweek gets it. Because he knows Feldspar and sees who he is. He understands that where Feldspar's words fail, his actions have always been true. Feldspar feels him grin against his lips.

When Tweek’s finally had enough of their kiss, he leans back, Feldspar chasing his lips. “Stop it man,” Tweek giggles, “You’re too cute.” Feldspar feels heat rise to his face, hiding it by pecking small kisses all over his barbarian’s face. He thinks he tastes a bit of Tweek’s warpaint, but it’s worth it when he sees how Tweek laughs, his face glowing with joy. Feldspar can’t help but stare at him in awe.

“Hey, Tweek?” Feldspar asks, hypnotised by his lover’s face. “Thank you. For choosing me.”

“Of course, man. Who else would I choose? I’ve never wanted anyone else.” 

Feldspar smiles. “Still. I promise I’ll try to make your choice worth all the effort.” 

Tweek leans in, pressing his lips to Feldspar’s forehead. “I told you, stupid. I love you. You’re already worth it.” Tweek laughs, “But maybe it’s your turn to court me.”

“Of course, Tweek. Anything for you.” Feldspar promises.

They spend far too much of the day enjoying each other's company rather than traveling, finally able to say their quiet desires aloud. They don't even notice the sun dropping in the sky, too distracted by the euphoria of being loved. But eventually they’re forced to set up camp at the very same spot they had stopped. When the sky begins to darken, the two sit together by the fire, legs pressed against each other. Feldspar takes the first bite of meat at Tweek’s insistence. Then, when their meal is done, Feldspar presents Tweek with a bouquet of wildflowers he found while Tweek was hunting. Tweek smiles at him, attempting another messy kiss to thank him. After the fire dies, they finally lay to rest together, arms wrapped around the other.

In the morning they’ll continue their journey, side by side, joined like 2 stars in the night sky.