The first time that it happened was after a late-night commiseration party of two over a bottle of Kohlingen whiskey. Loneliness plus liquor make for a dangerous mix; Edgar missed his brother, Locke grieved for his lover. But then a sympathetic arm around the shoulders was followed by a turn of the head and the brush of lips together…
They tell themselves that it doesn’t mean anything. A warm body is a warm body, especially on those bitter cold nights in the desert when even the steel walls of Figaro Castle do little to keep out the chill.
Edgar still liked girls, but if anyone could keep a secret, it was Locke. Besides, it was only once in a while, out of a need for comfort in moments of anxiety and sadness. Locke was a good friend, and not that bad of a kisser, and Edgar felt that Locke needed a little comfort as much as he did.
It wasn’t anything like love. It didn’t mean anything, Edgar told himself, as he watched Locke kiss Celes on the bow of the airship.
Fill: "Cold Comfort", FFVI: Edgar/Locke, PG
They tell themselves that it doesn’t mean anything. A warm body is a warm body, especially on those bitter cold nights in the desert when even the steel walls of Figaro Castle do little to keep out the chill.
Edgar still liked girls, but if anyone could keep a secret, it was Locke. Besides, it was only once in a while, out of a need for comfort in moments of anxiety and sadness. Locke was a good friend, and not that bad of a kisser, and Edgar felt that Locke needed a little comfort as much as he did.
It wasn’t anything like love. It didn’t mean anything, Edgar told himself, as he watched Locke kiss Celes on the bow of the airship.