Chapter Text
Dave Strider was used to getting left out of things at the temple. Whenever the other attendants would run off to town, he was left behind to tend to the idols of the two deities he served. If they were drinking, he was limited to water, forbidden both from drink and from the temptation it would bring on its heels. The games of the other attendants could only include him if there was a low risk of damaging his body or scarring him in any way. Kisses were forbidden, as was any physical contact beyond glancing touches, or an occasional lift out of the baths by a priest when the marble proved to be too slick to grip.
His body was to be as pure as the temples he tended, saved only for the gods he served.
The separation was thorough, sleeping sequestered off in a separate cloister from the other attendants and priests, wearing different clothes. Daily bathing was something he’d simply grown up accustomed to, wrapped in clean cloth and having to sit back and wait, listening as the priests and priestesses said blessings over his head and wafted incense. God, he hated that part, it always burnt his eyes and lingered on his tongue.
If he couldn’t simply wander and bathe every few days like the other children had been able to, Dave felt that they could at least be bothered to say their prayers faster. He felt like a plucked chicken half the time, sitting and waiting as they loomed around him.
Despite being a ward of the temple raised to be devoted, Dave himself held no interest in their proposed end game. He’d never volunteered for this, after all. In fact, his delivery had been a surprise, arriving nearly a full month earlier than his family had been hoping and planning for, his mother struck with labor pains in the heart of the city. Through sheer luck, a physician had not been far off, helping with his delivery and after care of his mother for free, using the experience as an example to those he was teaching. His bright red eyes were seen as sign of a natural blessing as much as the perfect timing of his early birth. No doubt he had the influence of a God as a newborn.
Following tradition, in early spring all the infants were brought to the main temple for blessings. Health, wisdom, purity of heart. All the essential things to grow up as well as their parents had. Blessings done, babies lain in a line for easy access by the priests and priestesses, the time to choose guardians had arrived. While children could grow up and eventually choose another God to serve, a childhood guardian was chosen to help them through the tough years of their youth and offer guidance.
In turn, each child was picked up and held out to observe every statue in a line, each representing one of the major deities they worshiped, hoping to see some recognition. Most children would smile or squirm, or reach when their time came. Many times the deity chosen would be the patron deity of their family, continuing to protect them throughout the generations.
Dave didn’t react at all when his time came to be lifted and walked down the line. Thinking it was an accident, or that he’d not been paying attention as infants were prone to do, the priests did the walk numerous times to try coaxing any kind of reaction. He had reached towards nobody and bawled his head off instead, trying to get away from all of the serious stone faces and the iron grip beneath his tender arms. The infant had howled and screeched till his tiny face turned purple, distressed and miserable, unaware of the vexations he was responsible for.
He never did choose a deity.
Two very different beings chose him instead.
While the attendants fussed, arguing that the other children would grow tired before being able to try choosing because of him, trying to decide who to temporarily assign to him, two of the statues fell from opposite sides of the room.
The God of Wind and Luck, and the God of Fire and Virility had spoken their words by collapsing from their stands as if on command, face first, angled towards the baby as if reaching out. Dave was carried along as they went to investigate, the men working to lift the heavy objects upwards and back onto their pedestals, amazed that no damage had been spotted. Not a single chip or scratch on either.
Quietly at first, then louder, Dave began to giggle as each statue was righted, squirming, reaching with his chubby fingers to try grasping and touching the God of Wind. A cool breeze fluffed his hair back and made him laugh so hard they feared he’d be ill, pink gums showing from his night uncontrollable smile.
A warm patch of air greeted them at the second statue, sunlight shining brighter overhead, making the infants hair shine like gold. The giggling had settled then, leaving him looking drowsy and happily exhausted. With both statues righted, he had promptly fallen asleep, leaving those who held them to sit and wonder just what they were supposed to do. Nothing had ever occurred like this before, that they could figure out, and it was dramatic enough that is absolutely could not be ignored.
It had taken very little convincing to have his mother forfeit his custody to the temple priests in the face of the miracle, comforted by the fact that the child would grow to do the work of the gods themselves. For not only had he been chosen in public, the two who had reacted were said to be fussy. The God of wind was a horrid prankster, giving and taking luck as he saw fit, playing with people and the weather. The God of fire was sensual and severe, stalking the battlefields of man as often as people claimed to have seen his image while in the throes of passion.
The sleeping child had no idea just what wildcards had decided to play with his life.
---
He was seventeen years old now, and envious to no end of his peers. Some of them had girlfriends and boyfriends in the city, and would tell him about their exploits, teasing him endlessly. A few of them were even fooling around within their own group, pawing at each other when the priests had their backs turned for too long or there was a moment alone.
It usually devolved into the pair forgetting anyone else was around, leaving Dave all kinds of uncomfortable. There was no relief for him to be seen, after all. He wasn’t allowed to kiss, or really even be touched. Touching himself when the ache became painful was just as forbidden if not worse, though he dare not see the actual extent in person. Somehow he had a feeling the priests would just know what he’d done, merely see his face branded as impure.
If they didn’t know, the gods surely would.
Or at least, that’s what he told himself daily to try staying in line. It was for a greater good. He was chosen for a reason. He was pure, and chaste, and did as he was told. The suffering he felt as he aged and was made to refrain from simple pleasures of the flesh would be worth it in the end.
Didn’t damn well make his mood any brighter. Today, everyone his age had snuck off to town to wander the markets, looking for trouble to get into as much as the new sights and smells they’d likely find. This left him time and solitude to scrub his icons, and the annoyance induced energy to do it with plenty left to spare. The bucket and scrubber needed carrying, the stone being splashed before he fell on it, rubbing and scrubbing and scratching to get every crevice clean. It didn’t matter that his sleeves were soaked, his pants covered in suds. None of it mattered except getting the tiny, stubborn granules of dirt off the wind gods legs, knowing the fire god would take even more time. His feet were always dirtiest, a sign of walking through the battles he was said to stalk.
“Stupid, lousy.. Oh, Dave can’t kiss anyone, let’s be sure to do so as often as possible near him! Hey, Dave, want a sip of this wine? Oh, right, you can’t! Want to sleep in our room so we can all stay up late talking about the head priest’ new haircut? Oh, whoops! We were going to skip lessons and go to the edge of the city, sneak out the walls for the afternoon! OOPS, DAVE CAN’T COME, HE’S TOO BUSY KISSING THE PRIESTS’ POMPOUS ASS.”
He’d begun talking quietly, he was certain, but by the time he finally dropped the brush and went to rub at his head, it had erupted into yells of rage.
“….I’m tired of this. I’m almost a man already, yet I’ve done less than most children in my time. All to serve some.. some. Worthless hunks of rock!” The brush was aimed at the fire god, bouncing off his knee without doing any harm. The bucket was overturned at the wind gods feet, leaving him empty handed to pace and rant to himself, mumbling between the occasional yell.
This meltdown had been a lot of years coming. No amount of praying for patience would have pushed it off a moment longer. He was done.
“You know, you really shouldn’t do that, now everything’s all soapy.”
“It’ll rinse off, just give me a moment! Now is not the time to worry about a stupid statue! I want someone to worry about ME. To ask what -I- want to do, how -I- feel for once! Instead of keeping me like a box of sweets wrapped up for two things who’ll never see me!” He was certain he’d have to apologize for the improper behavior afterwards, make up for it somehow.
For now, it just felt amazing to get it off his chest.
“What do you want, then? Y’know, aside from serving a god and a hot headed creep.”
A hot headed creep? Dave frowned to himself and turned to look over his shoulder to find the source, wondering who would be speaking such heresy in the temple itself. Maybe someone who prayed to the opposition of the god of fire?
The man was grinning and wiggling his fingers in a cheeky wave, tanned cheeks flushed and healthy. His hair was dark as night and messy, sticking straight up and out in organized cowlicks, the wiry swirls and whorls directed into an appealing pattern by nature itself. Everything about him was plain. He was an average height and muscular build with broad shoulders, plain cuts of clothing from his shirt to his sandals all tinted different shades of blue.
What was truly spectacular, distracting enough to leave Dave staring, were his eyes. There was just no looking away from them, bright as summer skies and nearly glowing with mirth and mischief, crinkling gently at the sides from his wide grin.
“….Hello? Dave? Uh. You still there?”
Oh, right, yes. That was a hand sweeping across his field of vision to get his attention back, another hand lifting his chin up to make him focus. It was amazing how soft his fingers were, how gently the touch. There was no way to resist it. Dave looked up into the smiling face and found himself smiling back, face warm despite a cool breeze that was moving his hair out of order .
Whoever this man was, he liked him a good deal already.
“Uh.. Yes. Yes, I’m still here, sorry. What is it?”
The waving hand was touching him now as well, stroking along his face in slow, barely there motions that were almost making him feel faint. It was the most intimate thing he’d ever experienced in his life, and he prayed as hard as he could muster to the god of wind and luck that it would last forever and never stop.
“I wanted to say that I was surprised by how big you’ve gotten already. Last time I saw you properly, you were a baby..”
A baby? Had he met him as a child? Is that how he knew his name? Everything was fuzzy in his mind and didn’t matter, thoughts falling like water over rocks, leaving him swaying under this strange man’s touch. All he could really do was smile dreamily and nod into his palm, stay awake for the petting he was receiving.
“Well, all the same. Do me a favor and pucker up, okay? This’ll just take a second.”
Wait, what?
Pucker up?
“Nnn…” he manages to get out, making no move to escape. The call of temptation was too strong, heart racing in his chest, breathing hitching as he felt the strangely cool breath of the dark haired man closing in on his face.
“Egbert, if you do that, it’ll be the last kiss you ever get! Drop the kid, and back away slowly.”
“Oh for crying out loud, I was jus-“
“Cheating by stacking the odds in your favor? Yeah, I know.”
“Not at all! I was just planning t-“
“Cheat. The rules are we appear to him at the same time so he can choose fairly, not solo you treacherous bag of slime.” The voice is coming from somewhere else in the room, decidedly masculine, and from the sound of it quite pissed off. There’s heat near Dave’s back, though none of it is threatening in the slightest. It feels like a good friend has come to his aide.
“Well,” said Egbert, “you’re here now, right? So we can just have him choose while you’re here and be done with it!”
“After you’ve compromised him like this?”
“It’s just a friendly touch, Dirk, really now. “
“John, I’m not in the mood for your tricks. Let him go. We’ll try again when we PLANNED to, and not a moment sooner. I’ll not have you cheat your way to victory.”
John pulls back from Dave’s face with a sour look, put out, a spoiled child used to getting his way being denied for the first time. As whatever comfort and calm that had surrounded him began to fade, the horror began to set in, damp sleeves swinging as he jerks back a few steps and looks around to get his groundings again.
The other voice was from a man with hair as blonde as gold, face tanned from sun exposure, delicate scars ranging over his body, feet dark and stained from travel. His clothing is also plain cut, light up top, darker near the bottom to mask his legs, draw attention away from the staining most like. He’s turned in just such a way that his eyes can’t be seen clearly, and for some reason that’s frustrating Dave to no end.
He wanted to see his face.
He NEEDED to see Dirk’s face.
Surely, it would be a perfect face to behold, if he’d just..
“We’ve been here too long as it is already, Dirk, I’ll call it even. We retreat now, and then come back when you first said we would, okay? Look, see? This is me being nice, you ass.”
“Flattery gets you everywhere, you should know that by now.”
“Dave? We’ll be back soon, okay? Try not to get into too much trouble while we’re gone. Wait for us!”
“Will you stop talking to him, John, you’re making this worse!”
“I am not.”
“Are too!”
“Am not!”
Two grown men, beautiful to behold, were arguing like children in front of his eyes. Dave frowned and raised the heels of his hands to rub, hoping to clear his vision and his mind, stopping only when rainbows of spots danced in front of him.
The men had fled as though they were merely wisps of smoke to begin with, leaving no trace but a warm breeze in their wake.
“…..I think.. I think that’s enough cleaning for today.”