Chapter Text
Death loves Life.
He loves to watch him kneel in the soil and move it away with his hands, how he buries the sees with a little pat to the top of them before being covered. The other's hands and face are covered in dirt, his tail and nails even more so, and he's dirtying his bandage that Death had applied not long before.
It's fine, he'll just put on a new one for him later, when they go inside Life's home for the night and share some proper food with one another.
He never allows him to cook. Not because Death can't cook, but because Life's simply better at cooking. It makes sense, since he knows how everything goes together, what ingredients and how much seasoning to add when. And after the first time he said he didn't want anything and held up a golden apple, well…
Let's just say he was banned from eating those near Life.
It's not his fault that they're the only things he can make himself and gain substance from. Food tastes dry in his mouth, other than the meals cooked by Life, so no one can blame him for sticking to the only thing that tastes good.
Golden apples and golden carrots are just… the only thing he can have is all.
He's getting too distracted.
Death zones back into watching Life plant a few more seeds before the other stands up, wipes the dirt off his pants, and waves him over. He takes a second purely to admire him, the dirt all over his body and that toothy grin that only appears when he's watching Death eat his cooking or when he's in his farm.
"Flame! Are you just gonna keep standing there? I need help over here!" Life's voice is so cheery as he motions for Flame to come over, the sun setting behind him and casting him in a halo that makes Flame fall even more in love with Life.
He looks like an angel.
Like how Life should, really.
"Yeah- Yeah I'm coming Lomedy, hang on." He moves slowly over, not wanting to crush any of the new seeds that Lomedy had painstakingly planted over the past week. Gardening day was always Flame's favorite, if only for the fact that he could stand as Lomedy's protector and watch him do his favorite thing in the world.
He loved it more than anything, even more than fighting or his title or whatever else people want to say about him.
"Bro, Flame, hurry! 'm gonna drop this before you even make it over here!"
The words makes him quicken his pace while still being cautious of the sprouts, but he gets over to Lomedy in record time. He doesn't hesitate in taken the heavy basket from Lomedy's hands, only to furrow his brows at how light it is.
He knows he's strong, but…
Flame peers inside the basket, only to see it completely empty.
He looks back up at Lomedy, sees that small smile on his face and the little glint in his eyes that makes him laugh. "Bro did you- you lied to me bro!"
"Lied about what? I only said what would've made you come over here faster."
"I- yeah okay bro, whatever you say."
Flame loves Life.
He's the complete opposite of himself. Soft around the edges, wears his heart on his sleeve even if Flame ignores it by accident, and is so, so very warm. It's a nice change from how cold Flame is constantly, could almost be his own personal heater if he really wanted, and he would love to spend a night here with him.
Lomedy is his friend, and he loves everything about him. Love his laugh, how he holds himself, how he's… he's every good part of Death. He feels better when he's around him, more himself, more alive.
He knows the other Horsemen have people like that, not that he could name any of them now, but it doesn't matter. All that matters is Life is here, with him, inside his house and cooking them both dinner that Flame would not be able to gain any nutrition from.
It's nice.
He really enjoys these soft moments.
"Yo, Lomedy," he picks up a knife after watching the other run around his kitchen with his head cut off, opening every cabinet and drawer and sighing after each one. "Is this what you're looking for?"
"Oh," Lomedy blinks, smiles, and walks over to Flame with a little hop in his step. "Thanks Flame."
"Uh- uh yeah, anytime bro," he won't like: the gratitude is always nice. He doesn't get it much, mainly because he's Death himself, but…
Lomedy always gives it so easily.
He doesn't understand how, but he thinks it's another reason why he loves him so much.
They continue the rest of cooking in silence. Comfortable, quiet, soft, it's everything Flame loves but multipled by a thousand because it's with Lomedy. And they work together so well, handing food and utensils between them in harmony, slowly putting the plates together before they set the table.
Low-lit lanterns illimuniating their handmade—Lomedy's work—table and plates, a slow-cooked chicken that's been shredded over some rice sits in front of them. There's more in there, but Flame doesn't feel like describing each and every little thing, not when Lomedy is already digging in.
…He wishes he could say it tastes good, but like all food, it's more ash when it reaches his mouth. He's thankful for the blindfold, so Lomedy can't see how he really feels about the food, but-
"Oh, sorry Flame, hang on," he watches as Lomedy stands from the table, makes his way back into the kitchen, and comes back just as quick as he left. A small salt-shaker slides over to his end as Lomedy takes his seat with a smile on his face. His tail is wagging like Flame has never seen before, and it only makes him more curious. "This should help! Been spending weeks on perfecting it, so lemme know if- if I need to change anything."
"Uh…" Flame picks it up, his ears on alert for… something not even he knows. It's… golden? That's weird. "What- what is it bro?"
"Put it on your food!" Is all Lomedy chirps out, all wide-smiles and glittering eyes, and Flame can't say no to that face, not ever.
He sprinkles it all over the food, watches the golden specks sparkle under the low-light, and it only makes him more curious as he casts one more glance at Lomedy. There's nothing but a happy Life, and it makes Flame cast any of his worries aside.
Not that he has any when he's around Life. He's the only one, other than maybe Mane, who he knows wouldn't do anything to him ever.
Because he- he hopes that Life loves Death as he does him.
Flame is cautious—he can't help himself—as he scoops up a spoonful of chicken and rice and takes a bite.
And-
And it's good. It's really good, actually, he can taste everything. It's not ash, not sulfur that burns his mouth and makes him feel warm in all the wrong ways, but it's food. He can't stop himself from taking a few more bites to make sure it's actually real, that he didn't imagine this and before he knows it, his plate s gone.
"I- I'm guessing it worked then?"
"Lomedy you're- how'd you do it bro? That was the-"
"-Best tasting food you've ever had?"
"Yes," he purrs out, his tail flicking back and forth in pure excitment as he tries to grab at Lomedy's plate.
"Hey! You can't have my food!"
"But bro, it's so good!"
"You can have the rest of the pot in the kitchen!"
"Oh," he blinks and gets up, but that doesn't stop him from snatching Lomedy's plate, along with his own, on his way back to the kitchen. He can hear confused words as he leaves, but he ignores him in favor of loading up both the plates with the rest of the pot. Leftovers won't be a thing, not this time, hopefully never again too. "Here bro, you need to eat more too."
"But I-"
"Nuhuh," and Flame falls back into his chair with a smile, sprinkling the golden salt all over his food, micing it, and sprinkling more. "You need to eat too bro, I've seen your plates. Dunno why when this food is the best I've ever had, but 'm gonna make sure you eat now."
He smiles into his bite of the best-tasting food ever as he watches Lomedy snap his mouth close with a huff even as a smile grows on his as well.
Flame loves Life.
Flame loves Lomedy.