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Slate watched as stray embers danced in the sky and joined the stars. It was late. Way later than they would normally be up, even despite the occasional insomnia. But Feldspar insisted on celebrating and now they were rambling on about nothing in particular. Slate didn't mind anymore. The sap wine was making everything fuzzy and warm and pretty so it wasn't too bad. They could tolerate staying up with Feldspar a little bit longer.
"Hey! Are you even listening to me?" Feldspar grabbed Slates shirt sleeve and jostled them around.
"Uhuh."
"I was saying," they slurred, "next I'm gonna go to Giant's Deep- 'n show those jellyfish who's boss!" they waved the bottle of sap wine in their hand around as if they were fighting off some imaginary enemy.
Slate stared at them through half lidded eyes. Stars, they were an idiot. A lovable idiot, but an idiot nonetheless.
Slate took a swig of sap wine. "How long're you gonna be out for?"
Feldspar froze. The light of the campfire flickered in their deep red eyes, and danced around them, highlighting the dark blue spots that speckled their face. They grinned. Their smile crooked and off kilter from when their teeth got knocked out and didn't grow back quite right. It was charming in a weird kind of way. Slate felt like they saw it way too often and not enough.
"Why? You miss me when I'm gone?" They teased. Slate rested their hand on their chin and let their eyes travel back to the fire.
"No. Jus' don't wanna deal with Gossan for too long."
"AAAWWW you're gonna miss me~!" Feldspar leaned up against their side, kicking their legs and cackling maniacally. "It's okay Slate, I'll only be gone for a month or two."
Slate rolled their eyes and tried to push Feldspar away to no avail. Feldspar flopped back against their arm and nuzzled their face in Slates shoulder, in what Slate could only assume was mock affection.
"I'll miss you too, buddy," they slurred. Slate decided not to think about how that made them feel.
"Yeah, yeah. I think you've had enough wine for tonight," they held their hand out for Feldspar to give them their bottle of sap wine. Instead they were met with a hand in theirs and Feldspar staring at them wide-eyed.
"When did your hands get so big?”
Slate snorted and maneuvered their hands to be facing palm to palm. Feldspars hands felt like sandpaper against theirs. Decades worth scars and bad decisions littered every inch of them. Slate had never really noticed the size difference, now that they thought about it. Feldspar had always just been small compared to them, even when they were hatchlings. It worked out for them in the end Slate supposed; they’d lost count of how many times they’ve had to throw them out of danger for something that even Slate had half a brain to know was idiodic.
“My hands have always been this big, yours are just small.”
“No! No! I swear they didn’t used to be so much bigger,” Feldspar laughed so hard they lost the little bit of balance they had. They laced their fingers with Slates in an attempt to keep themself from falling. Slate’s stomach lurched and they quickly wrapped their arm around their waist to keep them upright.
“I think you’ve just had too much to drink,” Slate chuckled. Feldspar looked at them curiously and they avoided their gaze. They looked down at the bottle of sap wine next to them as if it had an answer to why they were suddenly so nervous about Feldspar drunkenly holding their hand.
They sat there for a few moments that felt way too long, before Slate cleared their throat and released them from their grasp, standing up as Felspar flopped dramatically onto the ground. “Well, I'm going to bed.”
Feldspar groaned, “You’re no fun.”
Slate stretched their legs and grabbed a bucket of water to put out the fire. “Yeah , whatever.”
The two of them exchanged one last goodbye, before heading down the path from the launch tower and their separate ways.
—-----------------------------
Seven years. Seven years since Slate sat in the same spot with Feldspar, drinking sap wine and telling stories. Seven years.
They didn’t want to keep track of the time, they tried as hard as they could to not think about Feldspar. But when your best friend goes missing off the face of the planet to never return, sap wine can only do so much. And now they’re back here. Sitting next to them. Acting like no time passed at all.
The party between the founders that had ensued when Tin brought Feldspar home was chaotic but short lived. Once everyone was done being all emotional and had a few drinks it died down. Now it was just Slate and Feldspar, alone in the middle of the night, drinking sap wine together once again.
Feldspar was rambling now, going on and on telling some daring story that Slate couldn’t care about at all. They buried their face in their hands and sighed. Feldspar nudged them and laughed nervously, “You good?”
Slates eyes started to burn, they sucked in a shaky breath, “You’re really just gonna pretend nothing’s happened.”
Feldspar leaned down to be eye level with Slate. “Hey,” their voice was uncharacteristically soft.
Slate dragged their hands down their face and glared at Feldspar.
“You really missed me, huh?” Feldspar bonked their forehead against theirs.
“‘Course I missed you, asshole,” Slate grumbled and leaned into the gesture. Feldspar pressed even closer to them, knocking their noses together. Slate didn’t even have to look at them to know they had that stupid grin on their face.
“I missed you too.”
For a moment they sat there in silence, barely an inch apart. Their breaths mingled. Slate cupped Feldspars cheek with their hand. Their hands were rough and scarred, just like Feldspars; years of working made them anything but gentle, but they could try. Slate pulled Feldspar closer and pressed their lips together.
The seconds started to feel like hours, and Slate pulled away.
“Damn you for making me wait that long,” they whispered. Feldspar cackled like a maniac and grabbed Slates face and smashed their lips together again.
And this time they stayed here until the campfire went out on its own, until the embers flickered out and the rising sun blurred out the stars. This time they didn't say goodbye.