Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

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The car that will be taking them to the convention center picks them up at 8am, so theoretically, he has plenty of time to get ready. Despite that, Phainon finds himself wide awake and ready to go in full cosplay a whole hour early.

He didn’t get much sleep the night before. It’s always this way the night before a large convention. No matter how many costumes he puts on, how many characters he portrays, how many events he attends, the nerves and jittery excitement remain the same. 

Since he has free time, he decides to make good use of it by heading up to the roof and taking some photos of himself in cosplay. The sunrise is particularly beautiful in Okhema, and the lighting would look great in some early morning shots. 

Kephale ended up being one of his easiest cosplays, so getting ready took almost no time at all. Kephale’s snowy white hair, pale complexion and blue eyes are a near perfect match to Phainon’s own features. No wig, no contacts or dramatic makeup necessary. They shared a similarly muscular build too, and the tattoo on Phainon’s neck, the one in the shape of a sun, suited Kephale so well that he didn’t even need to cover it up. It had gotten to the point where his fans online joked that the developers took direct inspiration from Phainon himself when creating the character. 

Of course, Phainon doesn’t actually believe that’s the case. Characters of large and popular games like the Flamechase Journey probably took years of development in stuffy boardrooms and meetings. But he takes the compliment anyway, it is an honour to bear a physical resemblance to Kephale, a character that means so much to him. 

Over the past year, the Flamechase Journey has become, without a doubt, Phainon’s favourite game. He’s spent hours streaming it to his followers, and even longer playing it on his own, just soaking in the atmosphere, the masterful storytelling, the enjoyable gameplay. He’s replayed the main questline multiple times on different accounts, and can recite entire scenes from memory. It’s embarrassing how big of a nerd he is about this. 

In the game, Kephale is a titan who, in his quest to try and help everyone, ends up having to carry the weight of the world all alone, crushed under the unbearable burden and grief. But not before he passes the torch on to the hero—the main playable character who will go on to save them all—and fulfills his duty. 

While Kephale is the character he relates to the most, Phainon’s actual favourite character is, without any doubt, the titan of strife, Nikador.

Because Nikador’s face? Damn. 

Nikador’s body? Daaammmmn!

And of course, there’s also his bravery, kindness, strength, honour, and nobility all rolled up and tied up into a gorgeous package that is exactly Phainon’s type. 

Seriously, the dev’s ability to make a bunch of polygons look that good should be studied.

So it is only understandable that when Phainon runs into Nikador himself, in the flesh, coming out of the hotel room next to his that morning; He does the only logical thing a man can do which is to freak the fuck out.

‘Nikador is my next door neighbour?’ sounds like the title of one of those fanfics that he secretly reads at night in bed. 

But there it is, that same man he met yesterday at the gym. Whose name is probably not Nikador, but Phainon is going to keep calling him that in his head because he still doesn’t know his actual name. 

Today he’s wearing… aeons, is that even allowed? A bathrobe with the front opened so generously that it reveals more than a little bit of his chest and abs, adorned by red tattoos. His legs are bare underneath the robe, feet clad in fuzzy hotel slippers. He looks way too much like those naked Nikador fanarts that Phainon sometimes looks at and bookmarks on his private account for uh… reference. 

Not for the first time, Phainon wonders if isekai is real.

As though sensing his staring, Nikador looks over. His eyes are a beautiful shade of gold, and they dawn with some kind of recognition when he recognizes Phainon and his costume. 

“Oh, good morning,” he greets pleasantly, his voice a deep and soothing rumble, husky from having just woken up. His eyes narrow as he scrutinizes Phainon’s cosplay even further and Phainon unconsciously straightens his back, pulling himself to his full height. He’s a professional cosplayer who is confident in the quality of his costume but… a part of him still wants to impress. 

“Huh, you’re right,” Nikador continues. “The pump does make your arms look good in cosplay.”

And that does it.

Phainon’s sweaty fingers immediately give out, his grip slipping on his overly large sword prop. He watches it fall to the ground in slow motion, completely unable to do anything to stop it. His sword that is made of real metal, that is ridiculously heavy, that he needed to apply for a weapons permit just to bring to the con. That sword hits the floor and–

CLANGGGGGGGGGGG-

The noise as it falls to the ground is loud enough to wake the dead. 

Phainon’s jaw drops in shock, even Nikador is not spared from jolting in surprise at the ear splitting clatter.

-NNNGGGGGGGGGGGGG

HOW is the sound still going???

Oh, gods.

Phainon’s shoulders hike all the way up to his ears as he cringes, heat rising to his face. He utters a mental apology to all the hotel guests residing in the floors below who had received a rude awakening in the wee hours of the morning. 

“I’m… I’m so sorry!” Phainon apologizes as soon as the sound mercifully trails off. 

“It’s alright, allow me.”

“Let me just…” 

Their voices overlap as Nikador steps forward with his arm outstretched, wanting to help Phainon pick his prop back up. At the same time, Phainon bends down, getting to it first because he is closer.

The problem is, when he looks up from this angle, he can see through the gap in Nikador’s bathroom right as it falls away to reveal a perky brown nipple. 

Oh, aeons. 

Phainon’s sweaty hands betray him yet again as the hilt slips through his fingers, and he can only watch helplessly as the sword falls back to the ground and–

CLANNGGGGGGGGGGGGG–

It’s even louder the second time. And gods, is that a crack on the floor? Phainon is so, so sorry to the hotel for this! They should have invested in thick, sound proof carpets like all the other fancy ones. 

This time, Phainon has nothing to say for himself. Nikador looks mildly amused as he leans down and picks up the sword with a single hand.

“Wow,” he says, “heavier than it looks,” though he seems to be wielding it with no effort whatsoever. 

Yes… Phainon made it that way on purpose, and he swears he really has no issue with carrying it most of the time. He could hold it for hours. He’s really strong, these biceps aren’t just for show… he swears.

“I… I’ve got it,” Phainon says sheepishly, trying to salvage whatever remains of his dignity. “Thanks for the help.” 

“Are you sure?” Nikador looks at him, brows furrowed his concern. “Are you going to the lobby? I could help you bring it downstairs, you focus on carrying your other things.”

Well, yeah, because it’s a full day event Phainon is also carrying his costume repair kit, his spare clothes, and some other props he’ll need when taking photos later. Okay, so maybe some help wouldn’t be so bad, and if he gets to spend more time with this Nikador…

“I would appreciate that.” Phainon says, accepting the offer. 

Nikador nods, lifting up Dawnmaker and placing it over his shoulder like it weighs nothing, the muscles in his forearm flexing as he does so. 

“Your sword is impressive,” Nikador says as they make their way over to the elevator. “It’s very well made and feels like a real weapon. You must have put a lot of effort into this.” 

Phainon puffs up his chest in pride. Of course it is, he spent 2 months with a blacksmith for this, it’s by all accounts practically a real weapon. 

“Thank you.” Phainon says, brightening, it’s nice to be recognized for his work and not just for the way that he looks. “The Flamechase Journey is my favourite game, and I wanted to do it justice.”

“It’s mine as well,” Nikador says. “I’ll be at the con too, cosplaying as Nikador.” 

Heavens above! His prayers have been answered! The real life Nikador is actually cosplaying as his bias Nikador, how incredible is that?

Phainon can’t stop his motor mouth from running as he gets excited. “Really? You know, from the moment I first saw you, I thought you looked exactly like Nikador!” The elevator doors open before them with a ping. “I think your cosplay will look amazing!” 

Nikador chuckles as the elevator makes its descent. “It’s going to be my first time cosplaying. It might not be the best, I’m not a professional like you, but thanks.”

That makes Phainon jolt, all this time, he’d been operating under the assumption that Nikador didn’t know him, that they were complete strangers. 

“You know me?” He asks.

Nikador just looks at him strangely. “You’re Phainon, the main guest, aren’t you? Your face is on every poster of the convention.”

If anything, this only makes Phainon feel even more embarrassed. He’d dropped his prop and made a fool of himself in front of him twice. It wasn’t supposed to be like this! He was supposed to be cool, handsome, suave, a seasoned professional, if you will. 

Phainon spends the rest of the elevator ride trying to school his face into something less resembling a strawberry. 

By the time the elevator arrives on the ground floor and the doors open with a ping, he thinks he’s recovered enough to try talking again. 

“Well, thank you for the help–” He deliberately leaves the end of his sentence trailing off. In any normal interaction, this would be the cue for the other party to mention their name… 

Too bad Nikador doesn’t get that. 

“No problem, is here okay?” Nikador asks, leaning Dawnmaker against a chair in the lobby. 

Phainon nods. “It’s great!” Truthfully, he didn’t really need the help. But his mother didn’t raise him to be ungrateful. 

Nikador just nods at him once. “Then it was nice meeting you, I hope you enjoy the con.”

Almost immediately, he takes his phone out of his bathrobe pocket, eyes glued onto the screen. Phainon tries very hard not to stare at the peek of the area between his thighs when his bathrobe shifts at the motion. 

Valiantly, Phainon tries again to ask for his name. “And you as well uhm– Nikador?”

Phainon expected the other guy to pick up the cue, maybe correct him with his actual name. But once again, it seems to completely fly over his head. 

“Yeah,” Nikador says before turning away, considering the conversation concluded as he types something on his phone, leaving Phainon alone in the lobby. 

‘Yeah’? Not what Phainon was hoping he’d say! Phainon could fall to his knees, he’d missed his opportunity again! And to add insult to injury, he never made it to the rooftop to fulfill his original plan of taking early morning pictures…

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