Chapter Text
CYCLE SIXTEEN
Sixteen years. Barry is sixteen years older than when they started this damned mission, and he looks exactly the same. It’s freaky. He stares deeply into his own eyes in the bathroom mirror, not sure what he’s searching for, exactly.
“Fuck.” His reflection looks judgemental, and he sighs. He really wishes the IPRE had been established a few years earlier, or maybe that he’d been born about five years premature. If he has to be the same age for the rest of his life, which could be... Christ. Christ, no, he can’t think about the eternal abyss he and his crew mates are teetering on the edge of.
Anyways, if he has to stay one age forever, he wishes his body could be at least pre-back pain. He has to admit he’s jealous of Magnus. Fuckin’ twenty years old, in the best shape of his life, meanwhile Barry’s trapped in a 38 year old—
There’s a knock at the door. It causes his brain to short circuit.
“What?” His voice cracks and he wants to sink into the dirty linoleum and stay there.
“Hey, my dude, it’s Taako?” He sounds pained, like he’s cringing at himself. “You’ve been in there a while? Lup wanted me to ask if you’re okay?” His sentences lilt up at the ends when they shouldn’t. Seems like he realizes how awkward this all is.
“Oh. Yeah. I’m fine.” Barry’s brain snags on Lup’s name. She was worried about him?
“Okay.” Pause. “Magnus wanted me to ask if you’re taking a shit.”
He doesn’t really know how to respond. He stares blankly at the door, trying to wrap his head around that statement. “W— okay, why?”
“I don’t know, I’m not his fuckin’ mom, homie. Is that a yes or a no?”
“Y— I’m not answering that!”
“Woah, no need to get defensive, my dude. Everybody poops.”
“Taako!”
“Cha boy’s already gone!” Taako’s voice sounds small as he walks away, and Barry runs a hand through his hair. He waits for what he hopes is an appropriate amount of time, and then slips out into the hall and returns to the tavern.
“Barry’s back!” Magnus yells, slurring his words a little. Drunk Magnus equals Loud Magnus, or at least a “Louder Than Usual” Magnus.
“Hey, man.” He slides back into the booth and winces as Magnus claps a hand on his shoulder and leans down.
“Did you poop?” Magnus whispers loudly.
“No, I didn’t.” Barry slouches and stirs his too-sweet-coffee. Lup added too much sugar, but it doesn’t irk him like it would if someone else had done it. “Why?”
“Wonderin’.” He looks at Taako, who winks theatrically. Magnus sadly tosses him a small bag of gold and Barry puts his head in his hands.
When he looks back up Magnus taps his nose lightly with one finger and takes a drink. “Boop.”
From his other side, Lucretia waits until Magnus sets his glass back down and gently switches their drinks around, giving him her Fantasy-Near-Beer. Her white bracelet knocks against the table softly.
“Thank you.” Barry mouths when Magnus isn’t looking, and Lucretia gives him a “don’t worry about it” look. She hands Magnus’ beer to Lup, who saw the whole exchange and gratefully adds it to her half empty cup.
Lup looks stunning. Her hair is falling across half of her face and she’s laughing with Merle about something. Her lips are painted with something shimmery that he can only see when the light hits her face just right. She and Taako went shopping yesterday, and she bought a new mulberry dress. She looks good, and she knows she looks good.
Barry would like to kiss her at some point tonight.
But she doesn’t like him in that way. Sure, they had a moment last cycle. But they’re just friends, and no matter how much he likes her, he isn’t willing to sacrifice their friendship.
Loving her from afar is bad; losing her would be unbearable.
“Barry,” Magnus mumbles.
“Yeah, bud,” Reluctantly, Barry tears his eyes away from Lup. “What’s up?”
“Gotta piss.”
“Alright, buddy.” He scoots out of the booth to let Magnus out, then slides back just in time to see Lup whisper something to Lucretia.
Lucretia’s eyes widen and dart over to the bar. Lup laughs and Barry feels light headed.
He isn’t sure how a person’s laugh can sound so beautiful.
Lup is placing bets with Merle on their friends’ sex lives when she notices the water Genasi at the bar staring at Lucretia.
“500 gold sound alright?” Merle asks hopefully, but Lup is barely paying attention anymore.
“Uh, yeah, yeah… that sounds good… I gotta tell Lucretia something,” she says absentmindedly, and Merle’s eyes widen in surprise before he shakes her hand, turns, and butts into Dav and Taako’s conversation beside him.
“Lucyyyyyyy...” Lup puts her face super close (too close?) to Lucretia’s ear. “Lookit that Genasi over thereee...”
Her friend looks like a deer caught in the fantasy headlights as her eyes shoot up, scanning the patrons at the bar until she sees who Lup is talking about.
Lup giggles and bumps her with her shoulder. “Should we...”
“No.” Lucretia shakes her head and swats her cheek. Lup stops her hand in midair and rests her face against it. “Lup, stop. I’m not— no, no.”
“Lucretia,” Lup pouts and squishes her cheek against Lucretia’s trapped hand. “They’re totally checking you out...”
“They’re not,” Lucretia hisses, but her eyes linger. Lup laughs.
If she thought Lucretia wasn’t into sex, obviously she wouldn’t be doing this, but two cycles ago Lucretia had gotten absolutely hammered during Girls Night and confessed how badly she wanted to meet someone.
“Lup, I’m so fucking lonely,” she hiccuped. “And I can’t even meet anyone, like...” Lucretia’s eyes refused to focus as she clung desperately to her train of thought. “I can’t even meet anyone long term ‘cause of this mission.”
“Wha’about shor’term then?” Lup said in Elvish, too shitfaced to bother with Common.
“A’ this point, I don’ care, I haven’ had sex in twenty years, are you kidding me, I don’ even care, Lup.”
Lucretia hadn’t drank since that night.
“Babes…” Lup grabs her by the wrist and taps the inside a couple times. Their signal for ‘Are you goofing, or do I really need to cut this shit out?’
Lucretia chews her lower lip thoughtfully and she can see the gears turning. Then, she taps Lup’s foot under the table with her own. A green light.
“Fuckin’ choice, man,” Lup tugs Lucretia up and away from the table. As they get closer, she spots the black bracelet on his wrist. Props to whichever underpaid employee came up with the pronoun bracelets, by the way. Lup personally thought it was a great idea.
As Lup suspected, the Genasi is oozing confidence. He immediately directs Lucretia to the seat next to him.
Lup leans against the bar and introduces herself. “Hiiii , I’m Lup, this is my friend, Lucretia.”
“Greetings, Lucretia,” he barely glances at Lup, just extends his hand to Lucretia, and she shakes it. Lup almost laughs at the audacity this dude has, until she remembers the ‘goal driven’ Genasi bullshit. Realistically, Lup isn’t gonna get him laid, so who cares about her.
She takes the seat next to Lucretia and turns her back on them, tuning out of their conversation but sticking close in case shit goes south.
The bartender smiles sympathetically and slides her a beer. “On the house,” he says. “That was… rough.”
Lup quirks an eyebrow. “Why, my dude?” She challenges, and leans forward on her elbows, ignoring the drink. He falters a little.
“Oh, uhm... I dunno, I thought maybe you were...” He cocks his head towards the Genasi. “Thought maybe you were hoping to... fuck, I dunno.” His eyes go wide. “No, no, not like... Not like you were hoping to fuck, although that is kind of what I was getting at... I meant like... Gods. Sorry.”
“No, no, it’s all good.” She glances down at the drink, then back at the bartender. “I’m Lup.”
“Julian.” His hand is soft when she shakes it, and she finds herself not wanting to let go. He’s cute, this Julian dude. Scruffy, light brown hair, blue eyes, glasses, bit of a chubster.
His outfit is decent, too. Not, like, good by any means, but presentable, especially in comparison with some of his coworkers. No stains she can see, a clean tunic under his little apron uniform thingy...
Blue jeans.
Very much her type.
“Can I have a coffee, instead?” Julian looks surprised but obliges. Lup dumps as much cream and sugar as she can fit in the mug and focuses on sobering up.
Hopefully, she’s got a long night ahead of her, and she wants to remember every stupid, sexy, nerdy second of it.
Lucretia’s hands are pruny.
There’s light streaming through the curtains and it’s in her eyes and for a second she doesn’t know where she is.
Well, she knows where she isn’t . She isn’t in her own bed. Gods know she doesn’t have silk sheets, or fantasy memory foam pillows. Lup has all those things, but Lucretia isn’t on the Starblaster either.
The Starblaster doesn’t sway as waves lap at its underbelly. The Starblaster doesn’t reek of saltwater, either.
Very suddenly, within a matter of seconds after waking up, she knows exactly where she is and whose nightshirt she’s wearing. No, no, no, no, no...
Lucretia isn’t sure why she’s so freaked out as she peels back the covers and sees Esca sleeping peacefully. He’s still making that soft gurgling noise which she’s pretty sure is snoring. No, no, no, no, no...
She had fun last night, right? The sex was good , better than good, it was exactly the way she likes it. Esca was kind but not gentle, aggressive but not mean, caring but not overbearing afterwards.
It was a good night, so why does she feel like this? These are a lot of questions and feelings she doesn’t feel comfortable pondering in a near-stranger’s bed, so she gently slips out.
The second her feet hit the floor, however, she’s struck with another realization. Now she’s up, and faced with the daunting task of finding somewhere to sit that won’t look like she was snooping around his... very small boathouse.
Oh.
She quickly comes to the conclusion that such a task just isn’t possible, and crawls back into bed. She lies on her back, stares up at the honey oak ceiling. She wishes she had a piece of paper to jot down some thoughts, but she settles for just thinking.
Maybe the weird knot in her stomach is because she hasn’t slept with anyone in a while. Technically, she’s 43 now, and her last partner was when she was 21. That was over two decades ago, and her girlfriend had only liked receiving penetrative sex, so...
That was probably part of it, but not the main cause.
She brings her hands up to her face and examines them. They’re cold and damp and wrinkled from the events of last night. She wasn’t aware of these side effects of sleeping with a water Genasi.
At her side, Esca moves, loops his arm across her stomach and tugs her closer. She looks at him, but he hasn’t opened his eyes. His hair floats in midair like it’s underwater, and she’s close enough to see the small beads of water on his face. Then his thumb begins stroking her side.
They stay there for a few minutes, Esca with his infuriatingly gentle touch, Lucretia with her shaky breathing.
The silence is broken by a soft, gravelly voice. Esca’s whispering something, almost to himself, as he taps his fingers up her rib cage.
Lucretia’s Primordial is decent, but she doesn’t recognize the word. She rolls it over in her mouth, trying to imitate the harsh sounds.
Esca’s fingers stop and props himself up on his elbow. “Good morning.” His voice is thick with sleep, and Lucretia shivers a little.
“Good morning.”
“Repeat yourself.” Lucretia’s cheeks flush and she does, a little sheepishly. He chuckles and brushes a hand through his hair. “Do you understand?”
“No.”
“Would you like to?” She nods. Esca sits up completely and stretches. “I need to rack my head... brain . For a proper definition.”
Lucretia sits quietly, happy to just watch him while he thinks. She actually turns her full body to look at him. He’s quite pretty. At the bar she thought his eyes were black, but now, in the morning light, she sees they’re blue, too, like deep lakes you can’t quite see the bottom of.
Her stomach flips as she realizes what’s wrong with her. Why she feels sick to her stomach over this guy.
She doesn’t want to leave him. Not just in a couple hours, but at the end of this cycle. In a matter of months she’ll be gone, and he might be dead if she can’t find the Light.
“Lucretia.” Gods, the way Esca says her name. She isn’t religious, never has been, but Lucretia finds herself wanting to send off a quick thank you to Selûne for blessing her with this dude. “I think I can... I think I can translate it into Common.” He pauses, scratches his jaw lazily.
Gods, his jawline. Thank you, Selûne...
“It’s... perhaps comparable to your word for soulmate, but not quite. More... primal than that, I suppose. Less about love, more about lust.”
Lucretia tries saying the word again, and he leans forward, tips her chin up to kiss her but stops before he does.
“You speak my language very well.” He tells her in Primordial.
“Thanks.” Lucretia dares not breathe, doesn’t want whatever the fuck is going on right now to stop.
“It’s really hot,” he says bluntly, and then she’s laughing as he kisses her.
Lup emerges from her trance to find herself lying in the embrace of a very sweaty man.
Immediately the events of the last night flood back to her, and she bites back a groan. Julian. She peeks up at him, sees his hair has flopped down over his eyes as he sleeps.
He doesn’t have any freckles. Normally Lup doesn’t think about things like freckles, but for some reason she’s disappointed.
(A little over a year later, she’ll look back on this thought and laugh at herself for not realizing sooner. But she’s not there yet.)
Now, in the moment, Lup is grabbing her dress and heels off the floor of this dude’s apartment and transmuting them into running shoes and a tracksuit. Julian was a decent enough fuck, but she needed to be back home soon.
That’s what she was telling herself, at least.
She’s almost out the window when she starts to have second thoughts.
“Goddamn it,” she grumbles, shimmying back out, plucks a piece of paper and a pen off Julian’s desk.
Sorry had to dip, got work. You get it. Thanks for the b♡ne sesh.
- Lup
She folds it into quarters and sets it on his steadily rising chest. Is this a shitty thing to do? Yes. Would it be worse to lay awake next to him for approximately seven hours until he wakes up? Not, like, morally, but emotionally, yes.
With that, Lup casts Feather Fall and dives out of his fourth story window.
Barry is working when he hears Lup come in. It’s four in the morning, he shouldn’t be up but he wants to make sure she gets home safe.
He’s now realizing how creepy that sounds. But he has an alibi— Jesus Christ, it’s not like he’s committing a crime... He has an excuse , rather. He’s not just sitting around doing nothing. He’s working, he’s keeping busy. He’s not going to let this crush— Gods, he feels stupid calling it a crush. Feels like he’s back in high school.
Barry won’t let these feelings get in the way of their mission. It’s not fair to anyone. Not himself, or Lup, or their home planet.
He’s organizing the papers on his desk when there’s a knock on his door. “Come in.”
It’s Lup. She’s got a serious case of bedhead, and she’s wearing a tracksuit the same shade as her dress last night. “Hey.”
“Hey, do you wanna come in?”
“Yeah, thanks.” Lup sits down on his bed, and he swivels his chair to face her. “Why’re you up?”
“Work. Why’re you... back?” That might’ve been the wrong thing to say, if it was Lup doesn’t let it show.
“Work.” She plays with the hem of her jacket, and Barry lets the lie work it’s magic like she wants it to, wrapping Lup up in a cocoon of deception. For a while they just sit there.
“How was your night?” Barry swears he’s not asking for some creepy, perverse reason, he’s just worried. Lup’s acting weird and it’s freaking him out.
“Fine. Julian’s nice, but...” Lup looks up at Barry, expressionless. She looks tired, but not like an insomniac. She looks like... well, she looks like someone who’s been forced to fight for the lives of sixteen universes and failed multiple times. Like someone who can’t even imagine the light at the end of the tunnel because the tunnel literally has no foreseeable end.
“...But?” He prods a little bit, hoping he’s not going too far.
“But we’ll be gone in eleven months, and this whole planet might be destroyed by a bigger, sentient plane, so... Y’know. I don’t really want to get attached.”
“Right...” Barry runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “I’m sorry you gotta go through all this, Lup.”
She gives him a weird look when he says that. “Man, it’s not... God, there’s, like, a lot of people who are worse off than me,” she laughs humourlessly. “I don’t want to do a whole poor me, poor me thing... Plus, you’re going through the same thing I am, we all are. Misery loves company, y’know?”
He nods.
“Like, y’all had family back home...” Lup stops abruptly and stays quiet. She doesn’t know specifics about Barry’s family but she knows of them, from their talk last cycle. “Sorry, anyways, I, um... I don’t know where I’m going with this.”
“Lup, you don’t have to, like... compare trauma. Shit fucking sucks. For everyone, you’re right, but if you keep telling yourself someone out there has it worse, that you’re super blessed to have the bare minimum, yadda yadda yadda... you’re not going to be able to acknowledge your feelings. Obviously, it’s great that Taako is here with you, nobody is disputing that, but nobody is saying you have it easy, either.”
Lup doesn’t say anything, doesn’t look at him. She’s playing with the hem of her shirt.
“You should, um...” Lup sniffs and wipes her nose on her sleeve. “You should probably get some sleep.”
“Probably.” Barry doesn’t move. Neither does Lup.
The silence is getting comfortable.
When they do try to talk, it’s at the same time.
“Can I crash here tonight?”
“Do you want tea— wait, what did you say?” Barry’s going to pass out.
“What did you say?”
“I asked if you wanted tea or something.” His tongue is cottony.
“Oh. No, I’m good... I asked if I could maybe crash here tonight.” When he’s too shocked to say anything, she continues, babbling, “I don’t have to, I would stay with Taako but I don’t even know if he’s home yet, I obviously can, like, go to my room, it’s no biggie, I just don’t really wanna be alone right now—“
“No, no, you can, Lup, of course you can. It’s... are you sure?”
“Yeah, it’s just... it’s just like a sleepover, right?”
“Right, yeah... I’m gonna go get changed, I’ll be back.” Barry grabs a t-shirt and shorts out of his pyjama drawer and calmly walks out into the hall, closing the door behind him. Then he half-runs, half-shuffles to the bathroom as quickly and quietly as he can.
He brushes his teeth, washes his face, combs his hair, puts on deodorant and gets changed in about three minutes.
Then he runs back.
“Knock knock,” he says as he knocks on his own door, trying to ignore the way his heartbeat is echoing in his ears. “You decent?” What the fuck, Bluejeans. What the fuck was that. That was so fucking stupid—
Lup laughs. “Yeah, come in.”
Okay, maybe it wasn’t so stupid. He opens the door and there she is, as beautiful now as she was last night, under the covers on the right side of the bed. That’s usually his spot, but he can adjust.
He almost chokes on his own spit as he sees she’s wearing one of his t-shirts.
“Is this okay?” She asks, pinching the fabric away from her body with both hands, drawing his gaze dangerously close to her chest. His eyes snap back up to meet hers, blood rushing to his face and ears.
“Is what okay?”
“‘M wearing your shirt. That okay?”
“Oh. Yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah, that’s cool.” Of fucking course she’s talking about the shirt, Jesus Christ .
Barry flicks his desk light out and crawls into bed beside Lup.
“Do you wanna talk?” she whispers, flipping onto her side to look at him. Barry really should take off his glasses but he doesn’t want her face to go all blurry. He wants to cherish this.
“Um... sure, you go first.” He rolls over too, and for a half second their bare legs brush under the covers.
Was Lup just in her underwear?
This sleepover thing was a bad idea.
Barry hasn’t gotten a boner in front of anyone in almost 20 years, and it takes him a few minutes of half-listening, half-thinking about gibbering mouthers to calm his dick down.
“...so, just, like... I dunno. I guess I don’t have much to talk about after all. Thanks for letting me sleep with you.” Lup says, and then tugs the covers up to her chin, letting her ears peek out.
“No problem.”
She sighs, and Barry isn’t sure he’s ever seen her this content. “Your bed is comfier than mine,” she murmurs, almost to herself.
“What?” That’s impossible, they all have the same beds.
She’s already Tranced out.
For as long as he can remember, Barry Bluejeans has slept on his back, staring straight up at the ceiling until he falls asleep. But tonight, he stays on his side, memorizes every inch of Lup’s face until it’s emblazoned on the backs of his eyelids.
The last thought he remembers having is that he is truly, absolutely, unequivocally in love with this woman. Then he wakes up flat on his back with Lup’s head on his chest.
Barry carefully cranes his neck to look at the alarm clock on Lup’s nightstand. 10:13, holy shit. He slept in.
Somehow he manages to get out of bed without disturbing Lup, and he takes very slow and deliberate steps as he putters around his room, not sure what to do. He resorts to organizing his desk drawers.
He doesn’t really end up doing that, though. He just stares at the woman in his bed while holding various different pens and pencils. He’s seen Lup’s face without makeup, obviously, but those times were intentional, her face scrubbed clean either after she woke up or the night before.
But this is different. Her mascara is smudged around her eyes, lip gloss stained around her mouth. Her cheeks are rosy, and she’s sprawled across the entire bed, snoring softly.
She’s absolutely gorgeous. Barry knows he’s being redundant but it’s the truth and there’s only so many ways he can phrase it. Everything about her is utter perfection.
He wondered for years why her voice went up an octave when she really got laughing, until he realized she was slipping into Elvish. Same thing happens when she’s wasted. When she’s concentrating on something, she’ll run her tongue over her teeth over and over again.
Barry sighs and puts the pens back in their respective cups. Organizing will have to wait, he needs to get dressed and fuck off. He grabs yesterday’s jeans off the floor and throws them on. He hasn’t washed them in a few weeks, he’s gotta let the raw denim mould to his body, but he really should’ve thrown them in the freezer last night to kill off any microbes or bacteria or whatever.
He likes his current process of getting a new pair each cycle, it’s a nice hobby. Something to think about other than Lup.
Other than the mission, not Lup, he corrects mentally. He should be focused on the mission. Not Lup.
Not Lup.
Christ.
CYCLE FIFTEEN
“Hey, Bluejeans, I brought lunch,” Lup announces before entering the lab. Barry scrambles to wipe his cheeks but it’s too late. Lup stops dead in her tracks.
“Hey, Lup,” he tries to play it off like he hadn’t just been biting his fist to keep quiet while he cried. Lup sets the ham sandwiches on a nearby table, definitely breaking the “No Food In The Lab” rule, and rushes over to him.
“What’s up, my dude?” she asks softly, and he picks his glasses up off the desk.
“Nothing, it’s not a big deal.” He sniffs and drops his chin down to his chest, too embarrassed to look her in the eyes. “I, um... got something in my eye.”
Lup squats down in front of him and places her hand on his knee. “Okay, do you wanna go over to the eye rinse station?” She’s looking up at him with such a raw look of concern that it sets him off again and he doubles over, wracked with sobs.
“Hey, hey, hey, Barry...” he can barely hear her over the blood pounding in his ears. She’s rubbing his shoulder, but he feels it distantly, sort of like he’s a spectator of his body rather than an inhabitant.
“I had a niece.” His voice hitches on the last word and he feels like he’s being ripped apart from the inside out.
“Oh, Bear...” Lup tugs him gently onto the floor beside her, sending the wheely office chair to go bump into a desk or something.
She hugs him and for the first time he realizes how strongly she smells of rosemary, mingled with the usual campfire smell. It takes his mind off of Claire for a couple seconds, but not nearly as long as he’d like.
Lup stays for what feels like an eternity. He knows he’s getting tears and snot all over her soft green sweater but Jesus Christ he misses his little girl. Good God.
“Sorry,” he wipes his nose on the back of his hand and grimaces. “Super unprofessional. I’m okay now.”
“Dude, I’ve known you for sixteen years, we’re not… you’re not just a colleague to me, man. We’re friends! Friends cry in front of each other, it’s all good!” She laughs, clearly to try lightening the mood. “Do you wanna talk about it, or…”
“Um…” Barry runs the math in his head. It’ll probably help to tell someone, as much as he feels like he’s burdening Lup. “Yeah, yeah. Prob’ly should.”
“Okay, awesome. I’m all ears.” Lup sits up a little straighter and folds her hands in her lap.
Over the next hour and a half, Barry spills his guts. He tells Lup all about Claire, his niece, and how she was the smartest little girl in the whole Planarverse, and it turns out Lup is a great listener. During each story, she nods engagingly, laughs at the funny parts, and rubs his knee sympathetically when he gets choked up.
Eventually, she gets up and brings his lunch over. “I’m gonna grab you some juice. Gotta rehydrate.” He laughs and thanks her, and that’s when he thinks that maybe Lup is a woman he could fall in love with.
He was right.