Archive of Our Own

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“DADDYYYYY!” 

Taking a long, deep breath, Joel lets out a groan, rolling over in bed. He pulls the sheets up over his head, snuggling deeper into the covers and praying the incessant screaming of his child will cease. 

“Joel, get up, it’s your turn to get ‘im,” a muffled voice from underneath the blankets slurs, sleepiness seeping from his tone. The god is ninety-nine percent sure it is in fact not his turn to take care of Hermes, but the only complaint he gives is a huff before slowly sitting up, stretching out his (very big and strong and definitely not average at best) muscles before standing up. He spares one more glance at Sausage, who’s back to sleeping soundly in his bed. 

Gosh, he looks cute.

Er, he means, Sausage is nothing compared to Joel’s cuteness, but still. Cute. 

Letting out a sigh, Joel slinks out of the bedroom. He knows he shouldn’t be thinking like that. After all, he and Sausage are nothing more than friends. Buddies. Pals. Always have been, always will be. They might sleep in the same bed and be raising a kid, but that doesn’t mean a thing. It’s all platonic.

But at least he lets him stay here in Sanctuary with him so much of the time, even being comfortable enough to let him sleep in his bed instead of the couch. And, honestly, Joel finds himself sleeping over more nights than not, because the cold emptiness of his bedroom at Stratos is just way too lonely on those nights when he doesn’t have his son with him.

Saddened by his own thoughts, Joel slips into Hermes’s room, stepping towards the kid’s bed. The usually colorful interior is muted in the dim lighting. He bends down, taking a seat on the edge of his twin-sized mattress and looking into his teary eyes as he holds out a hand, placing it on his son’s shoulder as a form of consolation. 

“Hey, it’s alright, kiddo,” he says in a hushed voice, pulling the boy closer. “What’s wrong? Nightmares?” 

Sniffing, Hermes wipes at his eyes, looking up at his dad. “Yeah,” he says softly, frowning to himself. “You and Papa were–” He interrupts himself with another sniff, making Joel lean forward and wrap an arm around him before he continues. “Y-you weren’t there, and– and I was trying to find you, but there were so many people, and–” His watery voice breaks off into more crying, leaving the rest of his dream unfinished, but Joel understands enough. He hushes him, rubbing his hand against his back soothingly. 

“It’s okay, bud, I’m right here, it’s not real,” he comforts him, giving him a reassuring smile. “We’re not going anywhere, and we’re not leaving your side.” 

“But,” Hermes sniffles, his little wings fluttering anxiously behind him, “You and Papa don’t love each other…”

Startled, Joel immediately balks. “What?” he asks, eyebrows furrowing as he shakes his head. “No, of course I… Of course we love each other.” He tries to keep his voice steady, though he falters in his wording. “Why do you think that?”

Tilting his head at Joel, Hermes rubs his tears away again. “You don’t kiss,” he says simply, his eyes sad. “Other Daddies kiss. Kisses mean you love each other. B-but Daddy and Papa don’t kiss…” 

Despite the fact that kissing Sausage is quite the enticing thought, Joel has to push that idea away in order to console his son; now is absolutely not the time to let his mind wander. 

“Hermes,” he starts, giving him a small smile, “There are many kinds of love. Papa and I love each other like how you love us. Do you want some of my incredible smooches, now?” 

That gets a small snigger out of Hermes, followed by, “Ewwww, Daddy, no!” 

Joel chuckles in response. “I love your Papa very much, okay? You don’t have to worry. And he loves me, too. I mean, what’s not to love? I’m the most handsome god in all the Empires.”

This time, Hermes lets out a full squealing giggle. “But you’re bald, Daddy!” he laughs. 

Mouth falling open in mock offensive, Joel quickly defends himself. “I am not!” he argues, turning his head to show Hermes the tiny little bald spot on the back of it. “It’s just that one little part! And I’m still very handsome!” 

“Oh, yes, and very humble as well,” a sleepy voice pipes in from the doorway. Joel looks back to see Sausage rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, hair all mussed up and in his pajamas. It’s still absolutely adorable. He smiles at Joel as he steps inside, patting Hermes on the head. 

“Papa!” Hermes cheers a bit too loudly for the middle of the night, excited to see his other father. 

“Mi amor, you need to get some sleep,” Sausage tells him, his hair falling over his shoulders as he looks down at Hermes. Joel will never get used to it not being up in the usual ponytail no matter how many times he sees it down. 

Though he pouts, Hermes snuggles back down under his covers, kicking so that Joel will stand back up. “Fiiiine,” he whines. Giving him grateful smiles, Joel and Sausage head back out of the room. 

“Night, kiddo,” Joel calls, then shuts the door behind him, Sausage right on his tail as they leave together to go back to sleep.

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Hermes does not, in fact, go back to bed. He can hear Daddy and Papa out in the hallway talking, though he stays quiet so neither knows that he’s awake. 

See, here’s the thing: Daddy is really bad at lying. Hermes doesn’t have to be eight yet to know that Daddy has a crush on Papa. He’s seen the way he looks at him! Sometimes, Daddy is a little dumb and forgets that Hermes is watching. 

And Papa? Papa has it just as bad, if not worse! He can hear him mumbling to himself in Spanish some evenings when Daddy isn’t home, thinking Hermes can’t tell what he’s saying. Which, to be fair, is kind of true. But Papa taught him well! He knows enough to get what Papa is mumbling about, picking up on words like “amo” and “guapo”, along with Daddy’s name. 

Technically, Hermes could leave it alone; there’s a chance he’s wrong, after all. But the big kid thing to do would be to man up like Daddy has taught him and help out his parents! Because if he did, then Papa and Daddy could be happy, and they could hug and kiss and all three of them could be one big, happy, normal family!

He can see it already. This is going to be just perfect!

Now there’s only one question: where does he start? 

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As per the usual morning routine, Sausage is the first one up and out of bed. He almost always allows Joel and Hermes the extra few hours of sleep, more than content to start his day by himself. He goes through his usual morning clockwork, getting dressed, brushing his teeth, making his side of the bed (while being careful not to rouse Joel), etc. 

Once he’s all ready to start his day, Sausage sneaks downstairs, immediately setting to work on breakfast. One of his favorite things to do when he’s up early like this is cook breakfast for his belov– friend. For his friend. And for his kid. 

Today he’s thinking about making something on the sweeter side. He’s sure Hermes will enjoy it. Moving around the kitchen easily, Sausage gathers everything he needs from the pantry: flour, sugar, vanilla, cinnamon, salt, and yeast. He sets down the ingredients on the counter and opens up the fridge behind him. 

He almost doesn’t notice the pink envelope fall out and onto the floor. 

Furrowing his brow, Sausage bends over and picks it up. That’s…odd. He flips over the envelope in his hands. It’s completely blank, nothing written on either side.

Curiosity quickly gets the better of him. And, well, if this is something important he isn’t supposed to touch, then it shouldn’t have been put in the fridge. 

The rip of the envelope’s seal being broken is loud in the otherwise silent house. Sausage slowly pulls out a single sheet of white paper from inside. It’s a note, he realizes. The crude handwriting written on the paper in red crayon makes him stifle a giggle into his hand. 

Papa,

I love you!!! You ar the best persin ever. We shud get marryd and kiss and hug!!!!

Love Daddy

PS yer hansom too!! but i am hansomer

Hermes must think he’s real slick, huh? Oh, yeah, Sausage would have never guessed that this was actually written by his son and not Joel. Because very clearly Joel can’t spell anything right and calls Sausage “papa.”

But it’s very cute. Slightly flustering that Hermes really thinks that he and Joel should kiss and get married, but nonetheless cute. 

Smiling to himself, he folds up the piece of paper and slips it into his pocket for later, returning to making everyone a nice breakfast to wake up to.

After a while, the delicious smell of freshly baked honey buns drifts through the air as Sausage takes them out of the oven, closing the door with his hip and placing the hot tray on top of a rack to cool. Soft music plays from a speaker in the background as he grabs the glaze he prepared earlier, carefully dipping each to give it that extra sweet sheen. 

“It smells yummy in here!” 

Turning around, Sausage grins at his son as he comes down the stairs being held in Joel’s arms. “Thanks!” he chimes, continuing to finish dipping the rest of their breakfast in the glaze. “I made honey buns!” 

“Oh, yum,” Joel says, setting down Hermes and watching over Sausage’s shoulder as he places the last honey bun on the cooling rack, “You know how much I like your buns.”

Sausage can’t catch the snort that he makes, laughing at the silly joke. “You’re awful,” he says, giving Joel a playful nudge. “Eat up, you two, before they get cold.” 

Joel and Hermes are both quick to cooperate, shoving piping hot honey buns in their mouths. “Papa, these are so good!” the kid exclaims, making Sausage smile. “Right, Daddy? Papa is the best cook ever!” 

Laughing, Joel ruffles Hermes’s hair. “Oh, yeah, just the best,” he says, voice mocking, though there’s no real malice to it. “Remember how good that lasagna was? It was almost worth setting the oven on fire.” 

“That was one time!” Embarrassed that Joel is bringing this up again, Sausage crosses his arms. 

“Or when you burnt those chimichangas to such a crisp that even Bubbles wouldn’t eat it.” 

“Este hijo de puta,” Sausage murmurs under his breath, swatting at the god. “That dog is picky and you know it.”

Joel just laughs. “Only when it comes to your cooking,” he replies. 

“That’s it,” Sausage says, storming towards him. “I’m getting the chancla!”  

Realizing what’s best for him, Joel turns heel and begins sprinting away. Sausage gives chase, fuming as he runs after the fleeing god. “Get back here!” he yells after him, Hermes a giggling mess all the while as he flies after his dads.

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After narrowly escaping death, Joel had been more or less sent back to Sausage’s (and his now, basically) room with a stern warning and a threat he didn’t take lightly with a chancla in Sausage’s hands. Well, whatever. Now, Joel has time to take a nap or perhaps relax and read a book. Or he could just fly out the window. That would be a lot easier, but he has a feeling that’s not how to escape his roomie’s wrath. 

Eh, it’s not like staying in here bothers him much. He’d love to hang out with Hermes, but Sausage stole him away too and is having him help clean up the kitchen from breakfast, so that’s a no-go. 

Resigning himself to his fate, Joel takes a seat on his side of the bed, flopping back and laying his head against the pillow—when it hits something. 

“Ow,” he mumbles, rubbing his head as he sits up and looks at what on earth was on his pillow. Innocently sitting there is a handful of chocolate kisses and a small note. Weird. 

Without hesitation, Joel unwraps a chocolate and pops it into his mouth before unfolding the note. 

Daddy, 

Som kisses for the very hansom persin I wanna kiss! Mwa mwa mwa!!!

Love, Papa

PS marry me

Joel blinks, reading over the note again, before he bursts out laughing.

Oh, stars, is this good. He loves Hermes, he really, truly does, but man, the kid definitely didn’t inherit Joel’s brilliance. Does he really think he’s not going to realize what he’s doing?

Don’t get Joel wrong, this is absolutely adorable. The cutest thing ever. But why is he doing it? Joel purses his lips once he’s calmed down, thinking. Is this about that conversation from last night? He’d thought Hermes had dropped that. 

Well. He and Sausage are going to have to have a talk about this, then.

(As soon as he drops the chancla, that is.)

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“Hey, can we talk?” 

“I need to talk to you.” 

Sausage and Joel pause, having spoken at the exact same time, before laughing together. Honestly, Sausage hadn’t expected to approach Joel about this so late (it’s been days since that first note), but it’s kind of been bothering him. Er, not in a creepy kind of way. Just that he’s, y’know, curious why his son wrote him a love letter pretending to be Joel.

And, more importantly, Hermes has been acting strange since Sausage got that note. He’s seemed more down, less willing to help Sausage with dinner or go on an evening fly with Joel. Sausage can’t help but worry about him. Is he upset that Sausage saw right through his endeavor?

“You can go first,” Joel offers with a chuckle. As much of a narcissistic asshole as he can be, he has his nice moments. (Which are, admittedly, pretty often, but he really doesn’t need the ego boost.)

“It’s about Hermes,” Sausage tells him, pressing his mouth into a straight line. “He’s been off, I’m sure you noticed it too.” 

Joel nods his head. “Yeah, ever since…” He trails off, as if there’s something he doesn’t quite want to say. “Uh, hey, weird question, did you happen to get a crayon note of Hermes impersonating me?” 

“That’s…” Sausage says, blinking at him. “I did. You got one too?” 

“Gosh, this kid,” Joel murmurs with a chuckle, running a hand down his face. “He’s really trying to…what, matchmake us or something?”

Sausage forces out an awkward laugh, trying his best to play this cool. “I guess so,” he says. “Why on earth would he, though? I didn’t think he minded having, er, platonic parents.” 

Joel snorts. “That’s one way to put it.” His wings flutter behind him, a nervous tick Sausage had picked up on ages ago. But what reason would he have to be nervous? (He ignores the tiny voice in his head that tells him it could be the exact same reason he’s nervous, too.) “But why’s he acting so weird? It’s like…”

It clicks for both of them at the same time. 

“...He’s upset that his little ‘plan’ didn’t work,” Sausage finishes, looking up at Joel. “Oh, my poor baby. Él es muy perceptivo…”

“Huh?” 

Sausage quickly waves him off. “Nothing, nothing,” he says quickly, continuing onward in the conversation. “What should we do, then? I can’t bear to see his little heart broken like this.” 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Joel asks, his chest puffing out proudly. “I mean, who wouldn’t want to be dating me?” 

Sausage blinks, registering Joel’s words.

“What?” he just about shrieks, face flaring up and taking a step back. A little dramatic, sure, but that totally came out of nowhere! How else was he meant to react? “Joel, I– You–” 

He watches, sputtering, as Joel pauses. “Okay, maybe I could have worded that better,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “What I meant to say was: why not pretend like his plan worked?” 

Sausage swears he’s going to have a heart attack from the whiplash of his emotions shifting so suddenly. He tries to hide the way his shoulders slouch in disappointment, averting his gaze. “So…we pretend we’re dating so he thinks his plan worked?” he questions tentatively. As wonderful as it sounds to get to do all sorts of lovey-dovey kinds of things with him, he’s not sure he would be able to take the inevitable heartbreak that came paired with a suggestion like that. 

“Exactly!” 

Gnawing on his lip, Sausage says, “Yeah, that would work for now, but won’t that just cause more trouble later on? What about the inevitable ‘break up’? I feel like that would just make him even more upset.” 

But Joel just waves him off, already stepping past him as if the conversation is over. “Don’t worry about that, Saus,” he assures, looking back over his shoulder at him. “I am the smartest and sexiest being there is, I know exactly what to do.”

“Joel!” Sausage calls as he raises a hand out after him, confusion and embarrassment swimming through his mind. “Hang on a…!” Already too late, Sausage’s hand flops down at his side as Joel rounds the corner, gone from sight. “...second.”

He lets out a sigh, running a hand down his face. Oh, boy. His gut has a very strong feeling that this isn’t going to go the way either of them anticipates it will. Wonderful job, Joel. 

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Joel has no idea what to do. 

Okay, yeah, so maybe he fibbed a little to Sausage but, in his defense, it was all a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing. Letting his heart do the talking, you know? 

Never happening again. 

It’s not like this isn’t an exciting opportunity. Pretending he’s dating Sausage? He’ll count that as a win, even if it has a time limit and is rigged to explode in his face the moment that limit is hit. Not that that matters. Because he’s going to live in the present, take things in stride! 

Or, in other words, let his heart take the helm again. Yeah, he really needs to work on his self-discipline. 

Like most mornings, now, Joel awakens to the smell of fresh breakfast wafting in from downstairs, his rumbling stomach forcing him to begrudgingly get out of bed. He needs to start the day and, by his experience, go downstairs and eat Sausage’s admittedly delicious breakfast. As a god, Joel has been given many offerings in his time, but he thinks that the meals Sausage prepares are his favorite. And not just because he’s more fond of him than he should be. 

Mindlessly he follows his morning routine, freshening himself up and dressing in clean clothes (one of his favorite white togas adorned with shining gold accents) before he’s knocking on Hermes’s bedroom door, letting himself inside. 

The kid is always still asleep at this time, slowly waking from the intrusion and burying himself underneath the covers as Joel draws open the curtains, light flooding into the room. 

“Rise and shine, kiddo!” he singsongs, smiling at his son as strides over to his bedside. In a flourish, he rips the blankets off of him, making Hermes let out a squawk and groan, shielding his eyes from the light. “Smells like Papa made arroz con leche for breakfast this morning.” 

Well, that gets him up. He practically bolts out of bed, jumping around excitedly and fluttering his wings. “Really? Let’s go, Daddy, let’s go!” he cries, already trying to rush downstairs for breakfast. 

Joel stops him before he can reach the door, lifting him up and holding him in his arms while he squirms, trying to break free. “And where do you think you’re going without any pants?” 

Hermes pauses for a moment before looking down at himself and giggling, kicking his legs to signal for his dad to put him down. Joel lets out a laugh as he watches his son get himself dressed. Hermes runs his fingers through his hair and deems it good enough before he’s sprinting for the steps, happy to not be stopped this time. 

He follows Hermes down to the kitchen, already watching as he gives Sausage a big hug good morning, stars in his eyes as he sees the pudding on the stove, licking his lips and immediately grabbing the bowl Sausage passes to him. 

Taking a deep breath, Joel steels himself. It’s fine, he’s got this. Just pretend to be dating the man he’s in love with, no biggie. 

“Good morning, love,” he says as he comes up to Sausage, giving him a hug from behind. Sausage stiffens immediately, the tips of his ears going pink before he seems to almost force himself to relax, looking back at Joel. 

“Morning, handsome,” he replies, a teasing look on his face. “Sleep well?” 

Before Joel has the chance to answer him, Hermes practically slams his bowl down onto the counter, eyes wide. “You’re–!” he sputters, pointing at the pair. “You’re saying those cute names that other daddies do!” 

Joel and Sausage exchange a glance before Joel forces out a nervous chuckle. “Well, uh, we thought about what you said, kiddo,” he tells him, the arms he has wrapped around Sausage’s waist and the way he just fits so perfectly into his arms very much distracting him. “So we’re giving it a…try, I guess.” 

Honestly, for as genius as he is, that was definitely not Joel’s most convincing try. But then, persuading a child isn’t really all that hard, especially when said child has completely forgotten about his favorite food, too busy looking at him and his papa with stars shining in his eyes again. 

“It worked!” he cries, jumping. “It worked, it worked, it worked! You’re in loooove!”

Joel lets out another awkward laugh, letting Sausage go (even though he doesn’t really want to). “I mean– I don’t know about–” He’s cut off by Sausage elbowing him from behind, shooting him a look that says he should definitely shut up and leave it to him, which Joel has no qualms about. 

“That’s right, mi querido. Amo mucho a tu papá,” he says, a fondness in his voice that Joel doesn’t think he’s ever heard from him before. Then, before Joel can react, he spins around and presses a chaste kiss to his cheek. It’s over in an instant but Joel freezes, shocked, as Sausage turns away from him. He hardly even hears the excited squealing from Hermes as his dad leads him back to his breakfast, telling him to eat up already.

Never mind. Face burning, Joel is certain this is the best decision he’s ever made.

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“Well, you know I’m the most handsome and the sexiest being to ever exist,” Joel says one night about a week later, right beside Sausage as they’re sitting on the edge of the old copper fountain and listening to quiet music, Hermes having been tucked in hours before and already fast asleep.

Sausage flashes him a grin, replying, “Oh, yes, you certainly are.”

“And you being the second most handsome and sexiest, of course.” 

“Wow, such high praise coming from you,” Sausage says with a snicker. 

“You should be very grateful, I don’t say that about just anybody.”

“I’m sure.” 

Sausage isn’t quite sure when the shameless flirting really started up, or when they started pretending to be dating even when Hermes wasn’t around, but he can say with confidence that this has become one of his favorite things ever. 

It’s addictive; the soft touches between random intervals of the day and flustering words shared between them in hushed whispers at night or in boisterous declarations during the day, simultaneously elating and grossing out their son. Sausage doesn’t ever want it to stop. Even if it’s a bittersweet lie raveled up in loose strings of hopeless hopefulness, he couldn’t ever want to put an end to it.

He really doesn’t mean to get quite so poetic about it, but he doesn’t think he’s ever been happier. 

“Oh!” Sausage exclaims, immediately jumping up from the fountain’s edge. “I love this song!” He extends his hand out towards him, not even thinking about it until the words leave his mouth. “Care to dance?” 

Joel lets out a snort, tilting his head at him. “Isn’t this a Disney song?” he asks him, amused. 

Sausage just rolls his eyes, snatching Joel’s hand in his and pulling him up off of the copper fountain. “What’s your point? Sanctuary is based off of Encanto, remember?” 

Though he laughs, Joel doesn’t pull away, allowing himself to be led to the middle of the city square. Both of them are awkward, fumbling with where to put their hands and giggling at their inexperience, but eventually, their hands link together, Sausage’s hand on Joel’s shoulder while Joel’s hand rests on his waist. 

He tries not to think too much about how close they are as Joel leads the dance, taking small steps around the square to the beat of the song. Sausage smiles, humming along to the sweet melody sung in French as they sway. He thinks it’s rather fitting that this is a love song. 

As the music swells, Joel’s grip on his waist loosens, pulling it away as he lifts their connected hands up and spins him, Sausage laughing all the while. Joel then wraps his arm around him, Sausage’s back against him before he pushes him away, making him twirl and nearly stumble before he’s being yanked back into their original position. 

The song begins to slow down again, the background music fading. Sausage nearly lets go, about to step away and thank him for a very entertaining dance, when Joel’s arm moves back farther around his waist and he leans forward, dipping him. Sausage lets out a squeak, holding on tightly so he doesn’t fall.

When he looks up at him, a fire burning underneath his cheeks, he meets Joel’s eyes. His eyes that are filled with such fondness and longing that it’s impossible to ignore. Sausage wonders how he’d never seen it before. He’s looking at him with such adoration as he holds him in his arms, like he wants nothing more than him. It’s a maddening thought, really. 

“Joel,” he says, soft voice loud in the stillness and quiet of the moment, “…this isn’t pretend anymore, is it?” 

Instead of answering him in the form of words, Joel leans in and closes the distance between them. Sausage eyes fly open, shocked, before he lets them flutter close, sinking into the kiss. He brings his hand up to cup Joel’s cheek, fingers running along the hair of his beard as he breathes him in, a scent that’s so Joel he couldn’t ever put a name to it. He’s so warm, heart lit ablaze, and Sausage swears that if there is a heaven, he’s found it. 

Slowly, Joel pulls away from him, leaning back to let Sausage stand again. He tries not to think about how strong he must be to have held that position for that long. 

“Oh,” Sausage says lamely, at a loss for proper words. How is he meant to think of anything when Joel has essentially rendered him a pile of mush with just one simple action? 

Though maybe he should have tried a little harder, because Joel steps away, worry flashing across his face. “I’m sorry, was that too forward?” he asks, guiltily averting his gaze. “I’m really sorry, Sausage, I should have asked, I’m–” 

Sausage doesn’t even have to think for a moment, body moving before he can even process it as he grabs Joel by the hem of his toga and crashes their lips together again. Maybe he could have just explained with words that Joel really doesn’t have to apologize, but this is way more appealing. 

When he lets go, pulling away, he sees how adorably flushed Joel’s face is as he gazes at him. “Wow, okay,” he breathes, a grin tugging at his lips. “Clearly, I was right. I-I mean, I’m always right, so, uh…” But he trails off, still staring at Sausage, making him just the slightest bit self-conscious.

“What? Is something wrong?” 

Joel shakes his head, his smile growing. “Do you know how beautiful you are?” he asks, reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind Sausage’s ear. He stills, letting out a shallow breath as he looks up at Joel. Gosh, he seems so happy, cheeks not nearly as pink as Sausage’s must be but still looking at him like he’s his entire world. It makes Sausage’s heart do a summersault in his chest. 

Ever the nervous one when it comes to Sausage, Joel takes his silence to mean he said something wrong. “Er, if you prefer handsome, that’s fine, too,” he bumbles, trying to backtrack. “Beautiful, handsome, either one.” 

“I love you,” Sausage blurts before he can stop himself, so overcome with happiness and emotion that he just can’t hold it in. But it’s too late to turn back now, he supposes. “I love you so much, Joel, you have no idea.” 

“You do?” Joel asks, partially in disbelief and partially in excitement. Sausage nods, grinning ear to ear. The next words to leave Joel’s mouth make his heart swell. “I love you too, Sausage. More than you can imagine.” 

Sausage laughs, beside himself with joy and reeling to grasp that this is real, not some beautiful dream that’s all in his head. “We’re both idiots, aren’t we?” he asks, blinking away the tears forming in the corners of his eyes. He doesn’t know if they’re from the intensity of his laughter or the amount of overwhelming emotion welling up inside of him.

In typical Joel fashion, the god just scoffs. “You’re the idiot,” he says, though his voice is only filled with affection. “I’m nothing but genius, the smartest—and most cunning—being there is, I could have never–” Sausage gives him a light shove, making Joel cut off, chortling. “Okay, maybe I was just a little bit of an idiot.” 

“You think?” He rolls his eyes, letting out a long sigh and letting the tension in his shoulders relax. “Oh dios mío, ¿es esto real?” he murmurs, still beaming as he gazes at Joel. Though it’s dark outside, the lights hanging from the trees and around the square illuminate his face with a glow that suits his heavenly nature. 

“It’s as real as it’s gonna get,” he muses. 

“You–” Sausage sputters in response, not having expected Joel to understand him. “Have you been practicing?” 

Rubbing the back of his neck, Joel gives a sheepish nod. “With Hermes’s help, of course,” he says, reveling in the bright beam stretched across Sausage’s face. “Uh– Me amo?” 

Sausage snorts. “That means ‘I love myself,’ Joel,” he tells him, giggling at the way Joel coughs into his first. 

“Er, I knew that. I was just telling you how much I love me.”

“Uh huh,” Sausage replies, wrapping his arms around Joel’s neck. “Yo también te amo, mi amor.” 

Under the twinkling stars in the night sky, he kisses him for a third time that evening, reveling in the feeling of love singing a sweet symphony in his chest, knowing that this right here was all he wants for the rest of forever.

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