Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

New group chat

*Isen has created group: New group chat*

Isen:        OK. So. Of everyone we know, who most needs to get laid?

Elaine:     John

Cecile:     John

Sera:        hey, you’re talking about my best friend

Sera:        … but yeah, I’m also going to have to say John

Blyke:      I do not like where this is going.

Isen:        And who’s #2 on that list?

Blyke:      Seriously, whatever you’re thinking, stop.

The whole thing was Isen’s idea. Of course it was. Only Isen could be that fucking insane.

It was easy to make the mistake of thinking of Isen as the cautious one, seeing as he was usually the one panicking once he realized that they were in danger. But the thing was, he was also great at getting them into said danger in the first place.

Although Blyke wasn’t sure he’d ever come up with something quite as colossally stupid as this before.

Isen

Blyke:      Arlo and John? Dude. No.

Isen:        it could work

Blyke:      Or John could figure it out and kill us.

Blyke:      Or Arlo could figure it out and kill us.

Blyke:      Or – most likely – they gang up and kill us.

Isen:        U always think we are about 2 die

Blyke:      And I’m usually right.

The problem was that, for whatever reason – and Blyke still hadn’t ruled out ‘mind-altering drugs in the water supply’ – nobody but him and Sera seemed to realize just what a deeply terrible plan this was.

To be fair, John getting laid was not, in itself, a bad idea. Two years of attempts at patience, of apologies, and of slowly rebuilt relationships had done wonders for him – but frankly, he was still a high-strung mess of a human being, with a dark energy around him that seemed ready to explode at most given moments. Blyke sincerely doubted that sex would fix that for him, but it couldn’t hurt, right?

What could hurt was getting him involved in this brewing shitstorm.

Official Plan 69 group chat

*Isen has renamed this group*

Isen:        Blyke, my man, I’m counting on you for Stage 1 of Plan 69

Remi:      do we really have to call it that?

Elaine:     yeah, that’s pretty bad

Remi:      we should give them a couple name.

Isen:        I already tried that, Remi, I’m not a total n00b. But their names are terrible for this.

Remi:      ok, ur right. All I got is ‘jorlo.’

Elaine:     ooh, operation Jarlo!

Isen:        eh

Elaine:     still better than Plan 69

Isen:        Fine. Operation Jarlo it is. Blyke, your job will be as follows –

“We think the information drop may be happening at Café Boba.”

Two pairs of skeptical eyes rested on him, and Blyke struggled not to break out in a sweat. Dammit, why was he the one stuck doing this? He was the worst actor of any of them.

“So, uh,” he continued, “we need you two to be there this afternoon. You know, act like you’re just two friends hanging out, but keep an eye on what’s going on.”

Arlo and John traded a glance that said, you think this is a terrible idea too, right?

“Why don’t Sera and I do it,” John said, at the same time that Arlo said, “I could go with Elaine.”

“Sera’s at the lab this afternoon,” Blyke said. He could feel prickles of sweat starting to break out on his back. Ugh, and he wasn’t even lying. Isen had been careful to cover his bases. “And Arlo, we need two high-tiers with advanced combat abilities, just in case.”

John was the first to break. “Ugh, fine,” he grumbled. “This is gonna suck.” He glared at Arlo. “You’d better not order a plain black coffee again, you prick.”

“I’ll order whatever the hell I want to order.”

“Are you actively trying to be the most boring person ever, or does it come naturally?”

Blyke nearly melted into a puddle of relief as the two squabbling superheroes made their exit. This was such a terrible idea.

Operation Jarlo

*Isen has renamed this group*

Isen:        Big Red, report on Stage 1 please.

Blyke:      Never call me that again.

Isen:        Come on, what’s going on? Any progress?

Remi:      yeah, do they seem any closer?

Blyke:      Remi, I thought you were going to stop encouraging him.

Blyke:      As for progress, the good news is, I’m still alive.

Elaine:     how many ‘stakeouts’ have they been on?

Blyke:      Three so far. Café, movie theater, and restaurant.

Blyke:      Guys, really, this isn’t working. And I don’t think I can keep fooling them for much longer.

Elaine:     actually I think they’ve been glaring at each other less than usual

Cecile:     Yeah, I’m surprised to be saying this, but I have to agree with Elaine.

Isen:        Thank you for your report, Big Red.

Isen:        No worries, it’s time for Stage 2 in any case.

*

Isen

Sera:        ok listen, I have some ground rules

Isen:        !!!

Isen:        Are you going to help us??

Sera:        what? no. these are ground rules for me not killing you if this goes wrong.

Sera:        rule #1, John doesn’t get hurt

Sera:        no locking them in a room, no fake attacks, no talking about his past. nothing that might trigger him

Sera:        rule #2, if you get caught, I had nothing to do with this

Isen:        I can live with that.

Sera:        exactly

“The idea is to help us come together as a team by getting to know each other a bit better.”

Elaine knew she sounded nervous. Fortunately, she was always nervous around John, so it didn’t make her sound any less genuine.

John grabbed the papers out of her hand and glared at them. “Getting-to-know-you games? What are we, eight?”

Arlo leaned back in his chair. “I think it’s a good idea,” he said. She could tell he was saying it to spite John, but she smiled at him gratefully anyway.

“Okay!” she said brightly. “So, uh, question one. What’s your favorite ice cream flavor?”

The way John was glaring should have counted as an ability in and of itself. She could feel it, even when she looked away.

“Vanilla,” Arlo said. Slowly, John turned his head – and his glare – in his direction.

“I swear you’re being this boring to spite me.”

Arlo gave him a superior look. “Not everything is about you, John. Anyway, any moron can make ice cream taste good by adding a bunch of candies and artificial flavoring. Vanilla is actually a surprisingly complex flavor, and – “

John rolled his eyes so far back that it looked painful. “Ahh yes, the true mark of quality. ‘It wasn’t supposed to taste good, but we managed it anyway.’ How the hell do you manage to make even ice cream sound like a chore?”

Arlo didn’t roll his eyes, but the air around him became perceptibly colder. “Let me guess. Your favorite is some dumb kid’s shit like marshmallow fudge swirl.”

Judging by John’s scowl, he was close to the mark. 

“M-Maybe we can go ahead and skip to the next section,” Elaine said quickly, grabbing the papers back. “I’m sure we’re familiar with the basics, right?” She kept her gaze firmly on the sheet in front of her as she searched for a question that wouldn’t spark a fight.

“Umm… ‘What do you think makes a good leader?’” she said. This couldn’t be too controversial, right? Compassionate, honest, fair to people of all ability levels. All the things they’d been fighting for.

And yet, when she summoned the courage to look up, they were both looking at her like she’d just killed their puppy.

She wrote herself a mental reminder to never get involved with another of Isen’s pet projects.

After ten seconds that felt like an eternity, Arlo came to the rescue again. “Fair,” he said, and she practically melted with relief. “Powerful.”

John said nothing. But it was a very loud nothing.

“Is this where you call me an elitist?” Arlo asked, challenging.

John crossed his arms. “I mean, you see the contradiction, right? Leadership that’s fair for everyone, low-tiers need not apply? A system where only the powerful have a voice is inherently unfair.”

“Be realistic. A low-tier could never keep high-tiers under control.”

“Most high-tiers can’t keep high-tiers under control, either. Hell, even Sera was taken down by a bunch of mid-tiers. Ability on its own will only get you into power, but it won’t keep you there. A good leader is someone of any ability level who can win people’s trust. Who can build a system that people want to live in. One where high-tiers police other high-tiers.”

Arlo sighed. “So you’re saying that literally anyone can be a good leader.”

“No, you myopic cretin, I’m saying that being a good leader involves more than just the ability to beat people into submission. Or do you think I’d make a better team leader than you do?” Arlo glared, but was silent. “So I can shoot lasers out of my hands and lock onto a target, all at the same time. So what? That doesn’t mean that I can get people to work together, or offer them a sense of security. It doesn’t make anyone like me.” He shook his head. “You’re a good leader and you’re powerful. Not because you’re powerful.”

“You can’t compare the two of us, though. I mean… you’re a bit of a special case,” Arlo said. Elaine had to hand it to him, that was a remarkably diplomatic way to say you are a (hopefully former) sadist who has personally put most of us in the infirmary, if not the hospital.

John snorted, the sound more bitter than amused. “No, Arlo. You’re a special case. Most of the most powerful people in society have fuck-all sense of how to use their abilities, beyond getting whatever they want and to hell with the rest of the world. Don’t think that just because you care, everyone does.”

With that, he stood and stalked off, kicking his chair over as he left.

Operation Jarlo

Remi:      ok i can’t help it I’m invested now. Elaine, how did the get-to-know-you thing go?

Elaine:     I’m not ready to talk about it just yet

Cecile:     Wow, that bad?

Elaine:     😭

Remi:      aww sorry hon. i’m sure it wasn’t so bad

Remi:      isen, cecile, how did the team-building exercises go?

Isen:        Great! They definitely bonded

Cecile:     They spent the entire time mocking us and refusing to do any of the exercises.

Isen:        Yeah, but they were doing it together! That counts.

*

Operation Jarlo

Isen:        guys

Isen:        guys

Isen:        you have to help me

Isen:        Operation Jarlo is in trouble

Remi:      what happened?

Isen:        We’re stalling out. Zero progress all week.

Sera:        a couple of fake dates weren’t enough to make them fall desperately in love? shocking

Isen:        I’m looking for ideas here people, not criticism.

Blyke:      I’m probably going to regret this, but – what makes any two people get together? Like, what first attracted you to your first girlfriend?

Isen:        she had boobs

Cecile:     Aww, thanks babe. And they say romance is dead.

Isen:        I don’t think that’s gonna help us here 😞

Remi:      actually, I think you might be onto something

Remi

Blyke:      I thought you were going to stop encouraging him.

Isen

Remi:      wait, seriously, cecile?? How did I not know this??

Operation Jarlo

Blyke:      Isen, seriously, this is not a good plan

Blyke:      They’re going to figure it out

Blyke:      then arlo will murder us

Blyke:      and then john will find a way to reanimate us with his ability

Blyke:      and murder us again

Sera:        hey, john’s been working on his anger issues

Sera:        but yeah, that’s definitely what will happen

“Um. John? Arlo?”

Remi winced at the sound of her own voice as it echoed through the intercom, high-pitched and unsure. Why was she the one doing this, anyway? Okay, yes, it had been her idea. But everyone knew she was a terrible liar. It should have been Isen. Or Cecile. Cecile could have pulled this one off in her sleep.

Through the video feed, she saw Arlo raise his head. Halfway across the room, John remained slouched across one of the benches, clearly exhausted.

She felt bad pulling this on them so soon after a fight. Unfortunately, this was the only time it might actually work.

“What’s up, Remi?”

“Um, there might be chemicals on your clothes.”

Even Arlo looked mildly suspicious. Crap. That wasn’t a good sign.

“What kind of chemicals?” The voice was John’s, although he still hadn’t moved.

At Remi’s side, Sera raised an eyebrow, amused.

Damn it, she was so bad at this. She was going to blow Project Jorlo, and Isen was going to be sad. Or possibly dead.

She’d really wanted it to work, too. Maybe it was stupid, expecting this to work. Expecting love to fix anything.

It was just that she really wanted her friends to be happy. And it had been a long time since she’d seen either of them truly happy.

She picked up the intercom again. “Bad ones?” she tried.

Sera sighed. And then, to Remi’s astonishment, she grabbed the intercom.

“What Remi’s trying to say is that we have reason to believe that you may have been sprayed with a form of hydrofluoric acid. It’s highly corrosive. You’re going to need to remove your outer layer of clothing, and check for symptoms of contamination.”

“Fuck, seriously?” John sighed, and stood, beginning to strip off his shirt and pants. Remi couldn’t help but notice that Arlo’s gaze flicked to him before he turned away, a pale flush on his high cheekbones, and began doing the same.

“We’ll give you two some privacy,” she said, taking the intercom back from Sera. “But, um – “

Sera came to the rescue again. “It’s important that you check carefully for any signs of blistering or redness. Look at each other’s backs, too, make sure there’s no swelling or discoloration there.”

Remi averted her eyes from the screen as Arlo, too, began to strip. “Thanks,” she whispered, after checking that the intercom was off. She bit her lip, watching Sera from the corner of her eye. “I thought you were against this,” she said, tentative.

“I was,” Sera said. Unlike Remi, she was staring unabashedly at the video feed. “Look, I get that you all mean well, but it’s risky. John could find out, and the last thing he needs is to feel like people are plotting behind his back. He… there’s some history there.”

“So what changed your mind?” she asked, curious.

Sera leaned closer, a spark of excitement in her eyes. “So I didn’t think this whole plan of yours would ever work, but check this out – John has been complaining about Arlo all the time.”

“Uhh… is that a good thing?”

“It is when the complaints are things like ‘he thinks he’s so great just because he’s smart and good-looking and powerful’ or ‘I bet he spends an hour on his hair every morning to get it to look that naturally tousled, he’s so fake.’”

Remi squealed, just as Sera turned the intercom back on. Onscreen, John and Arlo’s heads whipped around. Arlo quickly dropped his hands from John’s back, while John crossed his arms across his chest, looking a little too casual.

“What was that noise?” he asked. “You okay?”

“Sorry, there was some feedback from one of the machines here,” Sera lied. “Everything clear on your end?”

John cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. Everything, uh, looks good.”

“Good,” Sera said. “Guess it was a false alarm.”

She turned back to Remi, closing the intercom again. “That might have actually worked.”

Chapter Text

Operation Jarlo

Elaine:     ugh, I don’t get it

Remi:      ??

Elaine:     they clearly like each other. Why is neither of them making a move?

Blyke:      Oh good, we’re talking about John and Arlo again.

*Blyke has left the group*

*Isen has added Blyke to the group*

Isen:        Seriously! I’m not sure what to do.

Remi:      maybe they need more confidence?

Cecile:     I don’t think a lack of confidence has ever been an issue for Arlo.

Isen:        Yeah, if anything they’re both over-confident.

Blyke:      Well, yeah. That’s the problem. They’ve fought before, and they’re both arrogant, stubborn god-tier fucks who associate apologies with weakness. Neither of them is going to be the first to budge no matter how much they like each other. Which is why this will never work.

Isen:        Blyke, you’re a genius.

Blyke:      Whatever you’re thinking now, please don’t tell me about it.

Isen was secretly, shamefully relieved when Cecile insisted on being the one to talk to John. It made sense – John would listen to her, if only because he still felt bad for beating her that one time. (Isen suspected that John had yet to feel sorry for beating him, but whatever.) Still, it left him with the easier of the two sullen high-tiers with a hair-trigger temper.

The idea was simple enough. Arlo thought John hated him; John thought Arlo hated him. All they needed was a bit of good PR. The right information, with the right spin on it, shared at the right moment.

He had a dozen ideas for how to casually bring John into the conversation (all of them perfectly natural-sounding, no matter what Blyke said). In the end, he didn’t need any of them. In fact, he was starting to think he needed ideas for how to get Arlo to shut up about John.

John was too reckless. John got hurt too often. John wasn’t sleeping well, and was trying to cover it up, the dumb fuck, even though anyone with eyes could tell.

“It’s just frustrating,” Arlo was saying. “He’s going to burn out.” He frowned. “He’s too much of an idealist.”

Isen snorted before he could think better of it. “He’s sure broken a lot of people’s bones, for an idealist.”

“He breaks bones because he’s an idealist,” Arlo said, in the tone of someone who’d spent a lot of time thinking about it. “His vision for society isn’t realistic, but he can’t accept that. He used to deal with that by trying to force society to change, even if that meant hurting everyone around him.” He shook his head, looking troubled. “Now he’s switched to hurting himself. It’s like he thinks that the one thing standing between us and a perfect world is that he hasn’t had his ass kicked by EMBER quite enough.”

Isen wasn’t stupid, but this philosophical shit was getting too deep for him. “He seems to be doing better recently,” he said, cautious. And then, as casually as he could manage, “You’re a good influence on him.”

Arlo snorted. “If you think John’s ever given a shit what I have to say, you’re dreaming.”

“I mean sure, he pretends not to.” Isen’s heart was beating fast, and not just because the current conversation might make or break Operation Jarlo. He hadn’t quite remembered just how terrifying it was to say shit like this straight to Arlo’s face. You could feel the power coming off the man, a constant background reminder that your continued existence relied entirely on his goodwill. “But, well…”

“What?” Arlo snapped.

“Well, it’s clear that he admires you.”

Arlo’s ‘bitch, please’ look was nothing to laugh at. “Sure he does. That’s why he’s constantly cursing me out. Because he likes me so much.”

“I mean, you’re saying that like it’s obvious he wouldn’t do that, but – wouldn’t he?” Arlo glared at him, but Isen was pretty sure it was his ‘I’m listening’ glare, so he continued. “This is John we’re talking about. What do you think he’d act like around someone he liked?”

Arlo was silent for an encouragingly long time.

“So how is working with Arlo?”

John snorted. “How do you think?” he said, darkly.

“You’re a saint for putting up with him.” She examined her nails. “He’s so uptight. And so boring.”

“He’s not that bad,” John said, too quickly. Cecile bit back a grin at the light flush on his cheeks. Oh, this was going to be too easy.

She hummed. “He does seem to be a bit better recently,” she allowed. She glanced over slyly. “I thought that might have been your doing.”

John watched her from the corner of his eye, suspicion written across his face. Careful, now. “Why the hell would you think that?”

She shrugged lightly. “Because he likes you.”

She liked to think of herself as a brave person, but she held her breath waiting for his reaction.

It was a while coming. And then, “Tch,” he said dismissively. “Right.”

“I’m serious.”

“Arlo. The big blond idiot who is constantly complaining about literally every single thing I do and say. Likes me.” He shook his head. “Sure, Cecile.”

At least he looked more amused than furious.

“You’re right, he does complain.” She lifted an eyebrow. “Don’t you find that suspicious? He doesn’t care that Sera disagrees with his philosophy. He doesn’t yell at Blyke every time he does something risky. He doesn’t notice or care if Elaine isn’t sleeping well. But you… You he notices.”

His eyes narrowed, jaw clenching. Too far, she berated herself. She knew better than most how deep John’s suspicion ran. She should have started with something easier. Maybe made up some story about Arlo complimenting his ability or some shit.

Still, John was silent for a long moment, thinking it over, and she almost started to hope. Just believe me, idiot, she thought at him irritably. For fuck’s sake, she wasn’t even lying this time. Why did he have to be so damn stubborn?

John shook his head. “Sorry,” he said, not sounding remotely apologetic. “I’m not buying it. Arlo barely trusts me not to stab everyone here in the back.”

“Oh, he trusts you,” she said. Her response was instinctive, unthinking; of course Arlo trusted John, because, “He would never let you patrol with Remi otherwise.”

“Huh.” John hesitated. “What’s the story with the two of them, anyway?”

“Remi’s Rei’s little sister,” she said simply. “Arlo promised Rei he’d look out for her. And since Arlo’s, well, Arlo, and since he hero-worshipped Rei, he takes that promise seriously.” She frowned. “Too seriously, if you ask me. Anyway. Trust me, if Arlo thought for a second that you’d hurt one of us, you wouldn’t be getting anywhere near her.”

“Huh,” he said again, turning away. Not quite fast enough to conceal the smile spreading across his face.

Cecile allowed herself a tiny smirk of victory.

*

Group: Code Red

Blyke:      Code Red

Blyke:      Elaine get ready

Isen:        shit

Isen:        you need help getting back?

Cecile:     checking the perimeter

Remi:      prepping medbay

Sera:        John’s not answering, can someone tell him to get to medbay?

Cecile:     we’re clear on this end, bring them in

Blyke:      John’s the one who was hit.

Blyke:      we’re good to get back, just be ready

Remi:      med bay ready, Elaine’s powering up

Sera:        outer defense ready

Isen:        ready here too

Isen:        what the hell happened?

It was hardly the first time Sera had seen John unconscious and bleeding. That didn’t make it any less terrifying.  

The look in Arlo’s eyes as he staggered in alongside Blyke didn’t help. Arlo was as pale as Sera had ever seen him. He was bleeding from the mouth and nose, but didn’t seem to notice. He was too busy staring at the figure in Blyke’s arms.

Whatever had happened to John must have been bad.

“Can you fix him?” Arlo asked, frantic, as Blyke laid John gently on the stretcher. “Elaine, can you fix this?”

“I don’t know,” she said, sounding nervous, but determined. “But I’ll try. I need you to step back.”

Arlo stood frozen, fingers still tangled in John’s sleeve. It fell to Remi to pull him gently away.

“What happened?” Elaine asked. Her hands were already hovering over John’s body, energy pulsing over him. “What hit him?” She frowned. “Feels like a bomb. His organs are…” She trailed off, thinking better of saying it aloud.

“I only caught the tail end of the fight, but something like a bomb is right,” Blyke said. “I’m not sure what exactly it was, but it was strong. Hit him square in the chest.”

Arlo was trembling. Not enough that you could see it if you weren’t standing right next to him. But Sera was.

“What happened?” she asked him, voice low. One hand went to his elbow for support. “Who did this?”

“There were two of them. One had these ropes of fire, like that guy we saw in Langdon a few months back, but she could use at least seven at once. The other had some kind of air manipulation ability. He kept using it to blast us.” He swallowed. “John – he jumped in front of me when my shield went down. Took a blast to the chest.”

The others had gathered around, and were listening closely.

“Amped mid-tiers?” Cecile asked.

Arlo shook his head. “If they were amped, they started as high-tiers.”

“Fuck,” Blyke said with feeling, while Cecile let out a low whistle.

Arlo swayed slightly, and guilt bubbled in Sera’s stomach. “Sit down,” she told him. It occurred to her, too late, that Arlo was in terrible shape himself. She really should have led with sit down. “Let me and Remi do what we can for you while Elaine helps John.”

He was silent while the two of them worked around him, binding injuries and giving him various medicines to drink. They’d all gotten pretty good at healing over the past year. Of course, nobody was as good as John when he was using his amped version of Elaine’s ability. It was a shame that it was usually John who needed healing.

Sera’s panic subsided as time passed. If John’s life were still at risk, Elaine would have called her over to help.

“He’s going to be okay, you know,” she told Arlo, who still looked every bit as pale and terrified as he had when he stumbled through the door.

Arlo was quiet for long enough that she started to think he wouldn’t answer. “He took the hit for me,” he finally said. Still sounding surprised about it. “I just – why would he do that?” His hands clenched. “I didn’t want him to do that.”

“Yeah, well.” Sera managed a shaky laugh. “Since when has John done what anyone else wants?”

“If he survives this,” Arlo said with feeling, “I am going to murder him.”

*

Group: Official team shit

Blyke:      Has anyone seen Arlo?

Blyke:      Arlo, you here?

Blyke:      Sera and I are going to meet up with Vaughn to talk about the attack, we need him to come describe what he saw

Elaine:     Arlo’s still with John in medbay

Blyke:      Got it, thanks

Elaine:     I wouldn’t try to get him to leave if I were you

Blyke:      Too late.

Blyke:      On a related note, can you come heal my nose real quick?

John came to in a quiet, well-lit room that he was far too familiar with. He blinked a few times, letting his eyes adjust.

Yup, it was definitely their makeshift infirmary. It looked just like it had the last time he’d regained consciousness there, three weeks earlier. With the notable addition of a certain blond lunkhead slumped over in the chair closest to the bed, half-asleep.

He clearly hadn’t been sleeping well. Or showering. His hair was a wreck, and his skin was streaked with sweat, blood, and dust from their battle.

And yet he still looked good. That fucker.

Slowly, quietly, John began to move his legs over the side of the bed. Only to immediately groan in pain, and flop back down.

Arlo’s eyes flew open, and he sat up. “Wha – where…” He blinked, his face settling into its usual scowl. “Damn it, John, were you trying to fucking stand already? What the hell is wrong with you? You have five broken bones that still need to heal.”

John glared right back. “Well how was I supposed to know? Usually my legs are fine by now.”

“You were supposed to wake me up and check first, you dumb fuck. I was right here.” Arlo was breathing hard. “And usually, Elaine has enough energy to heal your legs immediately, because she hasn’t spent an hour repairing your ruptured internal organs!” His voice cracked on the final words, and he looked away.

There was a long moment of awkward silence. Arlo was the first to break it. “How are you feeling?” he asked roughly.

“Fine,” John said automatically. He shifted, and winced as a jolt of pain shot up his side. “Mostly.”

Arlo gave him the King look, the one that said, ‘be honest with me or face the consequences’. John was pretty sure he didn’t do it consciously. It was just that to Arlo, compliance had always been a given. “Are you really fine?” he asked.

John chose not to answer.

“Because if you really are feeling fine, you and I are going to have words about the shit you pulled back there.”

“Is that why you’ve been sitting here watching me sleep? So that you could be on time to yell at me for helping you?”

He wasn’t sure why he was provoking Arlo right now. Force of habit, maybe. Plus, there was something about getting under his skin that was just so satisfying.

Arlo’s jaw clenched. “You protected me by absorbing a shot with your torso. What the hell were you thinking?”

“I was thinking I’d rather not see you dead. You’re welcome, by the way.”

It was close enough to the truth. The full truth was, he had barely been thinking at all. A single thing had flashed through his mind: not him. Other than that it was just blind panic, of a kind he hadn’t felt in years.

And all over this stupid royal fuck. He had no idea why he even cared. Let alone cared so much that his stomach was twisting into knots even now, picturing what might have happened if he’d been a second too late.

Arlo wanted to know what he’d been thinking? Great, because so did he.

“Ugh.” Arlo pulled at his hair, which of course only made it look more perfectly mussed. Dick. “Would you stop being so… so… self-sacrificing?”

John scowled. “What the fuck are you talking about?” Him, self-sacrificing? Please. That would require caring enough about other people to want to protect them. Which everyone knew he didn’t.

“You always pull this shit. You took the damage for Remi last month when you were fighting that guy with the energy blades, you jumped in front of Isen when that purple-haired lady was blasting metal shards everywhere, and now this. I get that you want to make up for what you’ve done, but dammit, John, that doesn’t mean you have to take every single hit!”

John blinked, too surprised to argue. Was that really how Arlo saw it? It was true that all those things had happened, but it wasn’t because he was a good person. It was just… he was just…

“You make me sound like some kind of superhero,” he said, his voice rough. “I just – I can take more damage than you, that’s all.”

“You actually can’t, dumbass,” Arlo countered. “My recovery and defense abilities are as strong as yours. So are Remi’s.” He leaned against John’s bed, bringing his dumb chiseled face uncomfortably close. “Face it, you’re just a nice guy.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Which is fine,” he said. John scowled automatically, but then realized that Arlo actually sounded completely sincere. “You’re a lot better than you pretend to be, you know that?”

John blinked hard, looking away.

“But don’t you dare,” – ahh, there it was again, the note of command. The former King of Wellston issuing orders to the lowly peasants – “take hits for me.”

John had been prepared for one of their usual arguments, but Arlo was really going off script. He almost sounded like he cared.

It was hard to know how to answer that.

“Why the hell shouldn’t I?” he countered, rising onto his elbows. “Someone has to save your dumb ass. Since you’re determined to fix the entire world, even if that means getting yourself killed.”

Arlo’s jaw worked. “Because I don’t want you to die, either.”

“What do you care?”

“You really are an idiot, you know that?” And then, before John could begin to think of an appropriately cutting response, Arlo kissed him.

It wasn’t a tentative kiss, either. It was a full-on, take-no-prisoners kiss. One that instantly sent waves of heat to every part of his body, that set every nerve on fire with the need to be closer. The need for more, more, more, right now.

He pulled away with a gasp. Arlo let him go easily, but stayed where he was, his face just inches away.

“You had better not be fucking with me, Arlo.”

He wanted to sink through the floor when he heard his own voice. He’d meant to sound tough, and instead he sounded like a fucking scared little kid. Like someone who just might break if this was a trick.

“John.” Had Arlo’s eyes always been that bright? “I’m not fucking with you. I promise.” His voice was more gentle than John had ever heard it, and something tight and dark in his chest began to unfurl despite itself.

Arlo’s lips curved into a smirk. “Although I’d like to be fucking with you.”

John didn’t want to smile at that, but apparently his body wasn’t taking orders from his brain anymore. “Ugh, that was the worst line, seriously – “

“Shut up,” Arlo said pleasantly.

The proper response to that was “fuck you,” but John wasn’t able to say it. He was too busy getting familiar with the feel of Arlo’s lips on his, the rough scrape of stubble, the feeling of warm skin over hard muscle. And the pulse pounding double-time against his fingertips, letting him know that he wasn’t the only one who was two parts turned-on to one part terrified.

Whatever the hell this strange new territory was, he wasn’t there alone.

Operation Jarlo

Elaine:     guys. Operation Jarlo is officially a success. I repeat, operation Jarlo officially a success!!!

Remi:      💖 💖 💖

Cecile:     Holy shit

Blyke:      I did not see that one coming

Sera:        about damn time

Cecile:     How do you know?

Elaine:     Arlo was in John’s room, there was a lot of yelling, things went quiet. So Isen used his ability to see what was going on in there, make sure they were both still alive. And, well…

Remi:      💖 💖 💖 💖 💖

Isen:        Now I just need the ability to un-see it.

“To the success of Operation Jarlo!”

Everyone raised their cups of boba tea in celebration. Even Sera.

“Does this really count as our victory, though?” Blyke asked, as the others began drinking. “I hate to say it, but I think that asshole with the wind powers did more to get them together than we did.”

Isen waved a hand in dismissal. “Yeah, but we were the ones who set it up. Got all the pieces in place.”

“Yeah,” Elaine said. She grinned. “I still can’t believe we pulled it off.”

Blyke sighed happily. “And we’re still alive.”

Remi patted him on the arm. “I’m just glad to see them both doing so well,” she said, smiling. “You know, I saw John this morning and he said ‘good morning.’ And he looked like he actually meant it!”

Elaine and Isen ‘oohed,’ appropriately impressed.

The conversation turned to other things – new movie releases, new information on EMBER, and of course, the perpetual question of whether Isen or Blyke would win their next duel.

Cecile was the first to go. “Well, this has been fun,” she said, standing, “but I have to go hang out with people I actually like now.” She waved, and the others waved back, unperturbed.

Elaine waited until she was out the door before turning to the others with a mischievous grin. “So who else is thinking that maybe we shouldn’t stop with John and Arlo?”

Blyke flopped onto the table with a groan that drew attention from half the café. Remi squealed. Sera’s expression never budged from mild amusement, but she watched them with interest.

“Go on,” Isen said, gesturing with his straw.

“Okay, so I was thinking – you know that guy who works with Leilah? White hair, controls the temperature?” Remi and Isen leaned forward, listening. “What do we think of him and Cecile?”

Remi frowned. “I dunno. Isn’t he a little, well – abrasive?” Isen snorted tea up his nose at the understatement.

“Fair point,” he said, after wiping his face. “Counterpoint: this is Cecile we’re talking about. I’m pretty sure ‘abrasive’ is her type.”

“She dated you, didn’t she?”

“For a definition of ‘date’ that mostly involved sex in the press room, yeah.” Both girls made a face. “But we’re looking for something a little more serious than that.”

“Guys, come on,” Blyke pleaded. “We escaped with our lives this once. Let’s not push our luck.”

Isen gave him an unimpressed look. “Why are you scared of Cecile? You’re at least as strong as she is.”

“Sure, I’d beat her in a fair fight. But do you really think Cecile would fight fair? If she finds out, she’ll just poison our coffee or something.”

He looked to Sera for support. She sipped her tea, looking contemplative.

“We should get Leilah involved,” she said. “I bet if we ask, she’ll make him our new contact person at Spectre.”

Blyke groaned again, while the others cheered.

New group

*Isen has opened a new group*

*Isen has renamed group: Operation Ice Vines*