Shrugging at their friends' abrupt departure, Soran looked at Art with a cute puzzled expression, and then dug back into his bowl of ramen.
'Huh... I sure hope Soran's family is rich. I can't imagine how they could foot the bill for him to eat on a daily basis...' Art thought to himself.
"Anyway... are you almost done? I think you've almost made the restaurant owner..."
"Young master! Please! I'm begging you, don't eat anymore!" The owner arrived and cut off Art's sentence.
'Huh. Speak of the devil and he shall appear.' Art mused.
Soran at least had the shame to blush.
"Oh... Yes, don't worry. This was going to be my last bowl anyway."
The man collapsed to his knees in relief, muttering things about his punishment being over and relocating his restaurant and why he ever chose to construct a restaurant on the border of a magic academy full of freaks...
"Uhm... I don't have to pay anything right?"
The restaurant owner directly collapsed to the ground at Soran's query, numbly nodding in confirmation.
'Should I pretend I don't know him? Sigh... I think it's already too late...' Art felt embarrassed in Soran's place.
Soran finally finished eating not long after. Art placed some money on the table, thanked the waiter and stood up to leave with Soran. Stepping out of the restaurant, the entirety of the sky was revealed to them. The sunset blazed in full glory that evening, sending streaks yellow, red and pink across the sky.
"Hey. Wanna go walk down the river a little bit? We can sit on that rise there and watch the sunset." Soran asked, pointing towards a little grassy knoll rising up beside the river.
Art blushed lightly, but after a moment's hesitation, shyly nodded his ascent.
The duo set off, slowly strolling towards the hill in silence. Not an awkward, silence, but the harmonious silence that can be found between companions that have no need to speak to enjoy the other's company.
Unfortunately, Art's mind was not in nearly as peaceful a state as the atmosphere implied.
'C-C...Couple! We look like a couple walking like this! Like we're dating!' Fantasies began to fill Art's head as he imagined various romantic scenes occurring between him and the hunk walking at his side.
And it was true. The two walked very close to each other - they weren't holding hands, but they were in such close proximity that their shoulders brushed each other's with every step, and their hands were constantly touching. By the end of the walk, Art almost felt jittery with happiness.
It was a happiness he had never felt before, the happiness only one person will ever be able to make you feel in a lifetime, but this person could make you feel by simply glancing at you. Art... had fully fallen for Soran... As great a feeling as it was, however, it was so foreign to Art that he was unsure how to deal with it. So he did as he always does, carefully schooling his expression into one of gentleness and warmth, but also distance.
Soran, on the other hand, felt all the same emotions as Art, but mixed in was a trace of nervousness.
'Is... Does he even like other men? Although accepted, it's still not something common... And every time I make an advance, he just blushes and then hides his thoughts... What if he doesn't like me? No! No matter what, even if he doesn't like me now, I will make him realize one day that I am the only one he can be with!'
Poor Soran would only find out in quite some time that Art's reaction was merely a manifestation of his inexperience in dealing with his feelings and interacting with other people, as well as the insecurity that came from not feeling the all-encompassing love of his parents for such a long amount of time.
And so the short walk was quite two-faced in nature. Both greatly enjoyed the other's company, but secretly wished to be able to enjoy so much more of the other person.
Finally, they reached the top of the little hill. There was a flat, soft grassy area at the top - it seemed almost to have been made as a comfortable vantage point from which to enjoy a romantic sunset in peace. They were far enough from the facilities around the school to be undisturbed by the sounds or presence of others.
Art sat down, closing his eyes to soak in the warmth of the sun and the gentle caress of the breeze on his cheeks. Soran paused, clearly entranced by the alluring scene of the boy's silky hair flowing in the wind, revealing every inch of his perfectly sculpted face and delicate, milky white skin.
Art felt Soran sit beside him, their bodies close enough for him to feel the warmth of Soran's body. A muscular arm suddenly extended out behind him, as if to embrace his waist, but then settled on the ground on his other side. Art froze.
'This.... I... Why do I want to lean into him so badly?'
Soran's arm just barely touched Art's back, sending tingles up his spine. In that moment, Art forgot about the death of his parents. Forgot about the syndicate. Forgot about everything other than the feeling of Soran's warmth, the softness of his shoulder that was rounded into a perfect pillow, and the sense of security Soran's arm around his waist brought to him.
'Should I lean against him? But... what if he doesn't feel that way?' Art's thoughts were a mess of un-surety and hesitation.
Soran made the choice for him, his powerful arm lifting up and pulling Art against his side, before resting just above his hip.
"Ah. Sorry. Muscle cramp. I have to leave my arm like this for a while." He continued squeezing Art to his body with this shameless excuse.
'Does he really expect me to believe something so ridiculous? But... I guess I won't complain...' Art snuggled further against Soran's side.
Art had never felt so warm and cozy and comfortable in his life. As someone who's cultivation focused entirely on cold yin energies, although he never felt cold, there was a distinct feeling of having almost icy veins. In a way, this was true; ice mana was the predominant energy flowing through Art's meridians. Ice cultivators who had special physiques or bloodlines like Art were often forced to find a partner for dual cultivation who had an abundant amount of yang energy, the best being fire mages, to avoid being injured by the coldness of their own mana. It was wrong to say that Art never felt cold. Instead, it should be said that he always felt cold, just never felt uncomfortable from it.
Soran experienced the exact opposite sensation. Soran's cultivation focused on fire and lightning magic, both extremely hot yang type energies. He experienced a constant feeling of being hot (in every sense of the word), just under the point of discomfort. Soran too would need to find a cultivation partner with abundant yin and cold energy to avoid injuring himself as his fire mana grew in strength, density and amount. Art's cool and smooth skin was like a refreshing cold drink on a cool summer day - just being in contact with Art made Soran feel soothed and refreshed.
And so the two sat there, with one nestled into the other's arms as the sun sank below the horizon. Soran brought warmth and comfort to thaw Art's icy veins, while Art breathed cold and calm into Soran to placate the fire coursing through his veins. Art and Soran could both feel their souls seeming to come alive, rejuvenated, fulfilled and completed by the opposing yet harmonious natures of the other. Their compatibility was such that they would never find another person who could produce the same effect in them, and now, would never feel complete without the other.
'This... is somewhere I could stay forever.' Both thought at the same time.