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Resurrecting Carter and the kobolds wasn’t too much of an issue with the help of the druids… Wilde, however, remained as still as- well, as a corpse.
Zolf knew this whole resurrection business was too good to be true. He tried not to get his hopes up, but… the idea that this last resort- this affront to most Gods and the morally upright, would not bring back the man he’d grown so close to, closer than he meant to but not nearly as close as he secretly wished.
Zolf would later recognize what he did as wrong, and quite frankly inappropriate, but he was distraught at the loss of a man he’d never get to see smile his way once more. So Zolf staggered towards Wilde and fell to his knees, sobbing as quietly as he could manage but too focused on the dead body in front of him to put too much effort into silencing his cries.
Zolf gently brought up his palm to cradle the cheek of Oscar, stroking a calloused thumb over the scar that ran the length of Oscar’s face… the scar given to him from an ex lover who had betrayed him. Zolf knew he was the closest Wilde would let anyone get to him after the attack and all at once, the thought of that- that swine being the last man to have pressed his lips to Oscar’s before pressing a glinting blade into that same spot, fulled Zolf with a burning rage.
Without giving the action a second thought, Zolf leaned forward so that his face was parallel to Oscar’s and gave a messy, desperate kiss to the man’s pale lips, tears dripping onto Oscar’s face that was, unbeknownst to Zolf, beginning to show subtle signs of life. It wasn’t until he felt Oscar begin to kiss back that Zolf pulled away from the kiss with a startled expression.
“Well, Mr. Smith, if I’d have known that dying was all it took for you to return my affections then I would’ve jumped ship days ago.” Oscar quipped, face still pale (though the life was gradually returning).
“Shut up, you stupid man.” Zolf growled, grabbing a fistful of Oscar’s shirt and pulling him roughly forward to continue kissing him, this time with a fierceness that would’ve looked close to assault were it not for how passionately Oscar returned the kiss, climbing into Zolf’s lap with a desperation so unlike the Oscar that the others knew and (mostly) loved.
God knows how long (or how far) the two would’ve gone on like this were it not for the loud cough coming from directly behind the couple. Oscar carried on kissing, hand slipping under Zolf’s shirt to paw at his stomach, momentarily distracting Zolf, who was planning on addressing whoever was trying to get their attention. Zolf finally paused the insisting display of passion when he heard Wilde moan suddenly and pull away. When Zolf opened his eyes, he saw Barnes pulling Wilde from Zolf by his hair, likely the cause for Wilde’s unexpected moan.
“Barnes, if you intended for this hair pulling to reduce any arousal I may have, then you are sorely mistaken.” Oscar said, attempting to come off as joking but still somewhat embarrassed at having moaned so loudly in front of his comrades.
“Wilde, go see Azu so she can give you a once-over and before you say anything, Zolf, let me remind you that this-” Barnes said, gesturing to both Oscar and Zolf lazily. “Is not the behavior of a man who can give a completely professional medical exam to a patient. Plus, me and Hamid would like to have a private chat with you.”
Zolf raised an eyebrow at the last part of the sentence, but got up easy enough, giving Oscar a quick peck on the cheek before walking towards where Hamid was pacing some distance away from where Azu was leaving with Oscar, Barnes following behind Zolf with an unreadable expression.
“What is it, Hamid?” Zolf asked, slightly irritated.
“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT, ZOLF?” Hamid screamed, visibly distressed. “I MEAN, I’M GLAD THAT IT WORKED, BUT JESUS CHRIST! YOU CAN’T JUST KISS SOMEONE WHILE THEY ARE UNCONSCIOUS!”
“I understand, Hamid and in any other case I’d agree with you, but… C’mon, he clearly wanted it.” Zolf replied calmly.
“THAT IS THE WORST ANSWER YOU COULD’VE GIVEN ZOLF! YOU GET HOW UPSETTING ‘HE TOTALLY WANTED IT’ IN REGARDS TO KISSING A CORPSE IS TO ME, RIGHT? LOOK AT THE KOBOLDS, ZOLF! THEY ARE SO UNCOMFORTABLE WITH YOU RIGHT NOW, APOLOGIZE IMMEDIATELY.” Hamid demanded, claws forming where fingers once were.
“Alright, alright, I’ll apologize to your little dragon children.” Zolf acquiesced, cautiously approaching the kobolds, leaving Barnes to calm down an angry Hamid.
Sassraa and Meerk seemed especially hysterical while Natan, Draal, and Driaak stood guard on the two, with Skraak standing, arms crossed, glaring furiously at Zolf. Once the two hysterical kobolds caught sight of Zolf they lunged for him, held back by the three other kobolds guarding them.
“YOU BETTER NOT HAVE FUCKING KISSED US TOO!” Screeched Sassraa and, from context clues, Zolf could gather that Meerk said somewhat the same thing, albeit in Draconic.
After a excruciating attempt between Zolf and Skraak translating explanations to the two considerably less bloodthirsty kobolds, Sassraa and Meerk finally understood that their resurrection wasn’t anything like the (Hamid later tells Zolf that the word they used to describe Oscar loosely translated to The Ship Prostitute, as that’s what they agreed was likely the man’s function after debating on his exact relation to this extremely important mission.) man they’d just seen.
Once everything was smoothed over with the kobolds, Skraak gestured for Zolf to approach him for what was likely another lecture on how much of a pervert he was.
“I- um, don’t know how things work with you people, but in kobold culture, we’d execute you for behavior like that- or, at least castrate you. Just something to think about, Smith.” Skraak said, voice flat with an icy undertone to it.
“What was that about?” Came a familiar voice from over Zolf’s shoulder.
“Just another speech about consent.” Zolf answered, drinking in Oscar’s very much alive form, grabbing lovingly at his hips to pull him in closer to Zolf.
“Funny, I got the exact same thing from Azu- well, probably not the exact same, but… the other side of the consent speech.” Oscar responded, burrowing his face into Zolf’s neck. “She said not to let you pressure me into anything just because you brought me back, but… I figure that I must owe you something, Mr. Smith, sir.” Oscar continued in a low, soft voice that imitated innocence surprisingly well.
“We are so going to hell.” Zolf groaned, leaning into kiss Wilde, who was leading him, to the displeasure of all who were watching, towards the tent he correctly assumed was Zolf’s.
“Yeah, but we’re going to have a hell of a time before then, huh?” Oscar jokes, shoving Zolf down onto his sleeping bag before crawling on top of him.