Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Tada!” Killjoy called out with pride. “I told you, didn’t I? Fully functional!” She adjusted her glasses over her nose and nodded her approval.

Omen was too stunned to say anything. He just stood still, looking at a strange man staring him back instead of what should have been his reflection.

It all started a few weeks back, when the youngsters of the VALORANT protocol were excited to explore the city they had been assigned to work in for the week. An invite had been extended to Omen to tag along and he, as usual, refused.

“You never go out with us.” Raze had complained, pouting her lips. Omen should’ve acted more annoyed, or hostile. He instead was just honest.

“It’s best I stay here.”

“C’mon. You should mingle with us.” Phoenix insisted. They had been working together for too long. There was a time they were all too scared to even approach him.

“I don’t mingle. ” Omen huffed, eager to leave.

“A little sun and some fresh air could do you some good!” Killjoy tried arguing as well.

“Do you think someone that looks like me could ever enjoy themselves outdoors?”

“Yeah! Every person can!” Raze nodded.

And that’s when he hit the nail in his own metaphorical coffin. Annoyed with the conversation.

“I’m not a person. Certainly not in the eyes of the average population. I’m not parading… this around.” He waved at himself. Self deprecating.

The regret he felt was instant, even faster than the sudden air of understanding around them, followed by the poorly veiled pity. He hated that.

“Phoenix’s ego is pretty distracting.” Killjoy winced.

“Hey, you mean charisma.” Phoenix retorded. Omen didn’t want to hear it. He groaned and left and hoped the conversation would be dropped and forgotten. 

For some time, he thought it was.

Until now.

Killjoy had called him to the lab with urgency. He should’ve known it was no actual urgent matter but yet another experimentation she wanted his help with. He hated helping in the lab. It was never a good sign when they needed the expertise of the man who could teleport and break his own body apart into millions of pieces.

So when Killjoy waved around a bracelet of sorts and what looked like a metal circlet around, he was very dubious. But then, she started rambling about what it did.

“… been on my mind since, you know? Because I think there’s a lot you could enjoy and if I could help in any way, I should! So I reused…” she drowned on and on about her ingenuity and some specifics while Omen zoned out. Until her words made sense again. “And this will help you look, well, less conspicuous. So you could go out with us maybe. Or not! Up to you really.”

That caught his attention.

“Here. Let me.” She approached him with the bracelet and he hesitantly extended his right arm, letting her fit it around his wrist. With a click, it tightened up, stuck in place.

“And this.” She presented the circlet. “Goes on your head.”

He took it too, staring her down.

She waved her hands for him to hurry up.

“C’mon! Let’s test it!”

He gave up, putting it on under his hood, only slightly bothered by the feeling.

Killjoy leaned close, picking his arm and pressing buttons on the bracelet as she explained.

“Alright, so, you see this menu here? This button powers it on, but after that you need to navigate the disguises available. I only have one so far because it takes some effort to get a nice scan like this converted properly, alright? And I didn’t even know what you’d like! We can talk about that later. Anyway, it’s the same button to turn the disguise on and off. You have to click it like this for it to work, so no accidental disguise changes!”

She clicked as she spoke and then a low hum went over his whole body, making him shiver and twitch. And where his bandaged arm was a second before, suddenly there was the sleeve of a jacket.

He looked up at Killjoy stunned and she grinned widely at him.

“Right?! Go check it out!” 

And she pushed him over until he was standing in front of a mirror, staring down at a stranger.

He wore a green heavy jacket over a gray hoodie that was pulled over his head. Black jeans and shoes. His face… 

He had a face. His skin was only a shade or so darker than Killjoy’s. He had a bit of a stubble on his chin, dark just like the short hair poking from under his hood. His eyes were slightly tilted in a way that made him look permanently tired, hazel and fixed on him.

That… that was…

“That’s… strange.” He said, unable to say anything else.

It was both mesmerizing and horrifying. To see a glimpse of a person he could be, and feeling so out of his body, staring at a stranger trying to be him. He couldn’t really tell what he was feeling.

“Well, it’ll probably take some getting used to.”

“That’s not me.” Omen couldn’t take his eyes away. Seeing the man’s mouth move as he spoke, hearing the words stumble out.

“Well.” Killjoy huffed. “Yes. I didn’t know what you looked like, so I just grabbed something random. Like I said, we can work on it. Did I get anything right?”

He stared at himself some more.

Turning his head this way and that.

He honestly had no idea. None of it fell any more familiar than the distorted shadows that made himself.

“The… hair.” He hesitated, sounding more confused than certain.

“Alright. I’ll write that down.”

Killjoy turned, excited to do just that, and Omen finally took his eyes away from himself, ready to talk her down from it. 

That is, until the lab doors opened with a hiss.

“Killjoy, where’s your soldering iron? I need it for-“ Cypher stopped short of his entrance when he spotted Omen standing there.

They just stared at each other.

Omen twitched. He heard the electronic humm again and watched as Cypher startled at it.

“What in the-“

“Cypher!” Killjoy interrupted him. “Look! It’s great right?”

Cypher managed to look very confused, even with the mask on.

“I’m sorry, I think I’m missing something.”

“It’s Omen! My disguise kit works!”

“Ah!” The lenses in his mask widened. “Is that what you were doing for him?”

Omen wasn’t liking it. He felt his body twitch again. From his chest, up to his head. And the hum sounded again.

“Aw. Is it glitching?” 

Whenever Omen flickered, the illusion would grow a brighter tone, starting to break at the seams where Omen did, before it settled again.

“No.” Omen said, because it was true. The issue was himself. He removed the circlet, placing it on the closest desk, causing the entire disguise to glitch. “It’s fine.”

Killjoy reached over again and clicked at the bracelet, and then, the illusion was completely gone and Omen could see his bandaged arms once again.

“I’ll try making some adjustments to that.”

“Killjoy.” Omen tried interrupting her before she was lost in her thoughts. “Leave it.”

“But it should be working perfectly if you are going out with it.”

“I’m not.”

Killjoy looked at him, disappointed.

“Why not?”

“I don’t like being outside. It’s too much.”

“Ah.” Was all Killjoy had to say to that, staring dejectedly at her invention. 

“Do you at least want to keep it? It is a gift.” 

Omen breathed in. He looked around, accidentally catching Cypher’s stare again. The man just nudged his head encouragingly.

Omen sighed.

“Yes… thank you… for…” For caring? Noticing? Trying to fix him?

Omen didn’t really know how to finish his sentence. Because in the end, he at least understood where she was coming from.

“No problem.” She smiled. “I’m gonna keep this with me to make some more adjustments for now, but if you ever need it or want to talk about updating the disguise, just let me know.

Omen nodded.

“Thank you.” He said again, and because he didn’t know what else to say, he left.

———

The rest of the day was spent normally, with Omen just roaming the halls, for things to do. He was on stand-by for any missions (technically, it was his break actually, but that was no different for him than being on stand-by). When night fell and his body refused to make himself tired, he decided he could maybe start another knitting project. He had seen an Octopus pattern he could try. 

He grabbed his knitting supplies and left for the recreational area. There was a lamp next to the corner of the sofa that he could turn on and keep the room relatively dark while working comfortably. 

When he reached the room however, someone else was there.

Cypher sat down with a book in his hands, engrossed in his reading.

It was pretty normal to find him there. Their late night “hang outs”, if they could be called that, were a big factor in their current relationship. It was almost friendship, though Omen hesitated to call it that. Omen didn’t make friends, really.

Cypher noticed him standing there and looked up from his book. His mask’s lenses curled in what looked like a smile.

“Come on. Don’t get shy on me now.” He papped the seat next to him. Omen’s favorite spot.

Maybe they were friends. Cypher knew some things about him too well, like his favorite seat, or when he wanted to avoid a conversation. And Omen started to figure him out back. Like his favorite teas and music, and when he wanted to talk but pretended that was not what he intended at all.

Omen sighed. No escaping this one.

He took his seat in the corner and pulled the lamp closer to him, Cypher’s book be damned.

He took out his supplies and looked for his patterns. Cypher, to his credit, let him settle down in silence, waiting until Omen started and was as relaxed as he could be in his condition.

Once Omen started with the purple thread, Cypher spoke up.

“What a gift Killjoy got you, right?”

There it was.

Omen hummed.

“Thoughtful.” He mumbled.

“Very.” Cypher agreed. “It was nice of her, of wanting to include you in something she and other agents enjoy.”

Omen huffed, eyes glued to his project as he worked the needle. Great. He was being scolded.

“I thanked her, didn’t I?” He said defensively. “I get it. But it’s a wasted effort. A disguise won’t make me any better company. It’s best if our worlds don't mix.”

“I don’t think any of them want you to change, Omen. They are just friendly people. They care.”

Omen didn’t answer.

“And I, for one, find your brooding company delightful.” Cypher teased.

Omen groaned.

“Maybe you’re just boring.”

Cyper laughed. That open, laugh that made Omen feel lighter.

“Maybe we’re old. ” He joked, a smile apparent in his voice.

Omen shrugged.

They lapsed in silence for a few minutes, and Omen focused on working the yarn into what would be the head of his octopus.

“Would you like to, though?” Cypher spoke up again.

Omen looked at him, head tilted in question.

“Go outside. Have a day out.”

Omen adjusted himself on his seat.

“I don’t know. It’s been too long. It’s too much. I wouldn’t even know what to do.”

Truth is, Omen didn’t know how to be normal anymore. He became out of touch with people and the world, split between trying to stay in the plane of the living and constantly hearing and being pulled into the plane of the dead. Noisy, crowded places seemed like a nightmare. He couldn’t see himself bouncing from one place to the other and dealing with all that, trailing along a bunch of excited young adults.

Even when people weren’t staring him down like the horror he was.

“Then how would you like going out with me?” Cypher asked.

Omen stopped knitting, looking at Cypher who was looking back. Book forgotten on his lap.

“I’ve gone out a few times.” He joked. “We could do all the boring old people things and just get some fresh air. Nothing too exciting.”

Omen was pretty sure he voiced none of his concerns outloud, but Cypher somehow guessed them anyway. Maybe he could read thoughts. Well, that was a ridiculous thought. He hoped Cypher didn’t read that.

“Like what?” Omen asked. Cypher tapped his knee.

“We could grab a coffee. I saw a shop nearby, very cute. And did you know there’s a park close? We can just stay out for an hour then head back. Do some bird watching.”

“Bird watching.” Omen deadpanned.

“Yes.” Cypher smiled. “Would you like to?”

Omen hesitated. Uncomfortable with the idea of being out, but somehow being worn down by Cypher.

“When?”

“How about in the afternoon?”

“Fine.”

Cypher perked up with the answer.

“Good! I’ll see you then! Wear something warm.” He picked up his book and got up, patting Omen on the shoulder as he left the room, humming a tune.

Omen watched him go with knots in his guts.

Oh… what had he just agreed to?

—--------

The morning came and went and too fast afternoon came, and for some reason Omen was nervous. He was standing close to the base’s back exit, disguise on and breathing in and out slowly to suppress any flicker of his body. He was still disguised as the same man Killjoy had shown him before. She instructed him a few things she hadn’t before as well.

The bracelet was waterproof so there was no issue in it getting wet, but the disguise itself was just a projection and wouldn’t change according to its surroundings, meaning that if he did get wet, the disguise wouldn’t. So no abusing it. She also explained that the disguise wasn’t physical, so touching anything in it that Omen wasn’t wearing would cause your hand to just go through, so he had to be careful being touched. That’s why the disguise had the hood on, mimicking Omen’s purple one. He was glad she kept it like that, he didn’t know how comfortable he’d be with it down. 

So there he was, prepared and waiting for Cypher to go out and… do normal things… Like people did.

He’d felt less nervous walking into a compound filled with armed men trying to shoot him dead.

“Omen!” Cypher called. Omen turned around and was startled at what he saw.

There was a man approaching him. Dark brown curly hair, a bit of a mustache and beard growing. Brown skin that paled in patches around his eyes. Dark eyes that glowed with the grin he had in his face. He still wore a hat in his head, but went for another coat, with a scarf to match it.

“There you are!” The voice tumbled out of his lips. A familiar voice in a stranger’s face. “Ready to go?”

“You… You’re disguised too?” Omen asked, voice accidentally coming out strained. He fought back the twitches of his body with a passion, feeling his stomach doing somersaults.

Cypher looked at him with mirth, and wasn’t it strange, seeing that smile that he heard so often.

“Of course. I thought we were being inconspicuous.”

Omen didn’t know how that was inconspicuous. Omen couldn’t stop looking at Cypher, surely other people would stare as well, captivated. But Cypher was the one supposed to know about people, not him, so he kept quiet.

“Did you steal that from Killjoy?”

“Maybe.” Cypher smiled at him.

“Right…” He said awkwardly, not sure how to follow up.

 “Come on then. Let’s see about getting that coffee.” Cypher waved him closer and walked. Omen followed.

—

The more they walked, the worse Omen felt. There weren’t a lot of people out. It shouldn’t be an issue, but Omen couldn’t help but stay strung up tight and nervous, watching his surroundings with alarming levels of paranoia. Gaze following every corner they turned, every person they passed by, every street they crossed. Feeling like they would look through his ruse at any moment. It was a downward spiral that kept going until he could only focus on putting one foot in front of the other, on breathing in and out slowly and on tapping his fingers against his thumb rhythmically. Anything to keep him focused on not twitching madly, which would definitely give himself out.

“Omen…” Omen snapped his head to the side, looking at Cypher.

Cypher opened his mouth to speak but hesitated. He looked to the side for a moment, and then turned back to him.

“That’s the park.” He pointed out, and Omen followed his gaze, seeing a trail of dark pavement cut towards an expanse of trees. “According to the pamphlets, the warm tones of the leaves make for a, ahem, breathtaking visage. Word by word.” He said.

Omen hummed in reply, looking at the orange tree tops with slight disinterest.

“What the pamphlets did not say, however, is that the park has a lot of exits, and shortcuts.”

And then Cypher took his hand and tugged him across the street.

He was looking forward, so he missed the way Omen’s entire body twitched violently in surprise.

Omen looked around alarmed only to find… No one noticed. He still searched, baffled, expecting something to happen, but in a few moments he was just walking beside Cypher in the cool afternoon air, under the shade of the trees.

The cold didn’t bother him. He could barely feel it. He could smell the trees however. It was a unique kind of smell. The smell of nature. And if he were being honest, it did look beautiful. It was also a lot quieter and emptier than the sidewalks. 

Cypher let go of his hand and he let it swing awkwardly close to his leg. He tried to meet the man’s eyes, but he was still looking forward. Humming to himself.

Omen let his eyes roam over the trees, catching how the sun filtered through the canopies. He tried to find any of the animals he’d hear chirping. And before he knew it, he was calming down significantly. The sound of his and Cypher’s boots against the creaking leaves marking their passage.

He let his eyes roam at Cypher too. Catching his side profile, the way the tree shadows would dance over his hat as he walked. 

They kept in silence as Omen took in the scenery. 

Eventually Cypher nudged him with his arm. 

“There’s the cafe. Cute, right?”

It was a brown building just outside the park across the street, resembling those from the last century, despite the glass walls of the entrance. It had decorations of swirling vines and leaves made of rusting metal.

Sure. Cute.

There was only a couple inside, making an order.

They approached the door and Cypher stopped at the entrance, looking at the menu. Omen let him, gazing over it as well, not as closely.

“Oh, look!” Cypher called excitedly. “They have Moroccan coffee!” He pointed. Omen leaned in, spotting what he pointed.

“Are you getting that?” Omen asked.

Cypher laughed.

“No. I’ve had the real thing before many times. I want to try something new. Would you like to try it?”

“Sure.” Omen mumbled, voice coming out more like a growl. 

“Alright. Hmm… what should I get…” He turned back to the menu, a hand coming up to his chin as he made up his mind.

He shrugged and stepped up to the sliding doors of the cafe, waiting for Omen to follow him. He did, let himself through.

He could tell it was warmer inside, and the smell changed as well, resembling more of sweet spices and wood.

“Good afternoon.” The barista welcomed them with a smile.

“Good afternoon!” Cypher greeted back, as they made their way past the leaving couple. “Could you get him a cup of Moroccan coffee to go?” He pointed to Omen as he spoke. “As for me…” He pondered a bit more. “This? Perhaps.” He pointed at something on the menu.

“A Moroccan coffee and white Mocha with almond milk.” The barista wrote down. “Anything to eat?”

“Yes.” Cypher continued. “That tiramisu looks fantastic. Also a bag with six of those chocolate chip cookies.” He pointed as he spoke. “Would you like anything to eat?” He turned to Omen. 

Caught off guard, Omen just looked at the glass display ahead of him, clueless.

“Oh. Uh…” He let his eyes go over the collection of pastries and cakes in front of him, no idea of what even what his taste, much less what those things were and what he could possibly like. 

“This.” He pointed at something random. Cypher leaned to see what he was pointing at exactly.

“And a slice of Red Velvet.” Cypher finished their order.

“Alright, sir. If that’s all.” The barista finished writing it down and offered the card machine for Cypher to pay. “What’s your name?”

“Liam” Cypher answered with a smile. Omen turned to him, amused. The barista was none the wiser.

“Alright, we’ll call you when your order is done.”

Cypher thanked him and pulled Omen to the side to wait, just in time for a group of teenagers to walk in, chatting amongst themselves.

“You’re not Liam.” Omen mumbled at him.

Cypher grinned.

“No. That’d be Brimstone.” He said conspirationaly. “It just seemed fitting, seeing I’m using his card.”

Omen couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his mouth in a huff.

They were called and their orders taken, and they made their way out back into the park.

Cypher took a sip of his order, pulling a face as he did.

“Oh this is sweet.” He grimaced. He sipped again. “ Very sweet.”

“Do you want to trade?” Omen asked, lifting his coffee.

Cypher just waved him off.

“It’s alright. You haven’t even had yours yet. You should at least try it.”

Omen looked down at his cup. He didn’t much enjoy eating in public, disliking the unnatural way he looked while doing it. But he was disguised now. No one so far spared him more than a glance. And the natural way Cypher sipped at his coffee… It looked easy.

So he pulled his own cup up to his face, smelling the scent of the spices mixed in with the coffee. A waft of warm air hitting him. He slowly brought it to his lips and tipped the cup, letting the hot liquid hit his tongue.

It was a shame he couldn’t quite taste it like other people did, but there was enough flavor he could notice it.

He pulled the cup away, trying to place the familiar and unfamiliar tastes in his spotty memory. Figuring out which was what.

“So? How’d you like it?” Cypher asked beside him, looking at him expectantly.

Omen thought about it.

“It’s good.”

Cypher smiled at him, and his stomach turned to knots again.

“Let’s find somewhere to sit.”

They walked until they found a bench by the walkway, tucked further into the trail and away from the more walked parts. They sat down and opened their food.

“They are for Killjoy.” Cypher explained, shaking the bag with cookies. “Sentinel code.”

Omen hummed, opening the box that stored his cake.

“And this is for me.” Cypher opened his container as well, taking a spoonful of the desert into his mouth. 

“Mmmm.” He hummed in appreciation. “Good.”

Omen followed the example and took a bite of his red and white cake. It was more sugary than his drink, for sure. It was alright he supposed.

As he chewed he caught Cypher staring.

“What?” Omen asked defensively. 

“You know. I think it’s harder to read you with the disguise on. I can’t even tell if you like the food.”

Omen shifted, uncomfortable.

“It’s fine. It tastes good.” He mumbled.

“Ah.” Cypher nodded. “I think your disguise might not be emoting right. Your expression barely changes.”

That made him self conscious.

“Ah… Well. I can tell you didn’t like that. Sorry. Don’t stress over it” Cypher apologized. “You’re fine.”

He didn’t think so. Cypher seemed to be emoting just fine, with that contagious smile that reached his eyes, causing wrinkles to show up at the corners. Maybe Omen was a bit incapable of feeling anything truly, or maybe the equipment couldn’t read his face, that was nothing but a pit of impenetrable shadows. A reminder that he wasn’t quite human.

Cypher nudged him.

“You don’t need a face to emote. Your body is expressive enough. It’s almost endearing actually.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He grumbled.

“I do.” He insisted. “Like, how you straighten up when you see something you like. Or how you tilt your head down when you get embarrassed.”

“I don’t do that.” Omen argued.

Cypher laughed.

“You’re doing it right now.”

Omen tilted his head back up to prove him wrong.

That just made Cypher laugh again.

“Whatever.” Omen shoved another spoon of cake in his mouth. “You’re too easily amused.”

“You’re too amusing.” Cypher sipped his drink.

“I thought I was brooding, in your own words.”

“The best type of amusing.” Cypher nodded. “Do you want to try this?” He held a spoon of tiramisu up for him, a hand held under to make sure nothing fell.

Omen eyed him suspiciously for a moment, but judged it safe enough. He took a bite, used to trying foods offered to him by the agent whenever he was cooking at base.

This one was more bitter than his cake, he could clearly taste coffee in it.

“It’s good.” He said.

“Right?” Cypher agreed.

They sat like that, eating and drinking and chatting. They did some bird watching after all, pointing out at any they could see and trying to guess any they could hear. They talked about bird species, then about tree species, then the weather, the seasons, how it worked in different hemispheres, about traveling, and so on and so forth. They got up and started walking around again somewhere along their conversation. They kept at it even as the sun started coming down the sky and further and further closer to the horizon, painting the skies in oranges and purples to match the trees, the air growing colder and causing a red complexity to stick to Cypher’s face.

It was all magical in a sense. Omen could scarcely believe such a thing could ever happen to him, but there he was. Walking, chatting, enjoying himself, before he could notice he was doing it. So effortlessly.

“Hey.” Cypher called. “Come here.”

He reached for Omen’s hand and dragged him along.

He had been doing that a lot throughout the day too. Tugging Omen gently closer to something he wanted him to see, or away on a path he wanted him to follow. And Omen did, even if his hand was cold against Cypher’s warm one. He was delighted by the feeling. It warmed him up more than the coffee had.

It made his chest fill with something he feared was joy.

So Cypher dragged him up a pathway, taking them to an opening at a raising with a railing that overlooked part of the park and the city. The sun coming down to their left.

Cypher pointed a hand out.

“Underground, there.” He pointed away from the city. “Is our current makeshift base.” 

Omen looked at it, and then over the city.

“It’s…” He tried to find the words to say. 

“Pretty?” Cypher filled in, reading his mind before him.

Omen hummed in agreement.

“Yes… It’s pretty nice.” Cypher said, leaning against the railing and watching in silence as the sun continued making its way down from the sky.

Omen watched Cypher. Serenity in his face, framed by the warm light.

It painted a gorgeous picture. Omen wanted to keep it. He hoped that his memory would let him keep this moment, if nothing else. He pleaded it would.

“What did you think?” Cypher turned to him again. “Was I a good guide for going out?” He smirked, full of mirth.

“You were.” Omen answered honestly, voice soft. “I had a good time.”

Cypher's smile became softer.

“Me too.” He said.

They looked at eachother like that. Omen realized they were still holding hands, basked in golden and feeling warmth all over against the cool air.

This couldn’t be anything other than joy.

Terrifyingly, it didn’t feel like anything other than love.

And maybe he was projecting it, but that was what he saw in the man in front of him. It’s what rattled so hard against his chest, trying to escape his weary heart.

So he hesitantly raised his other hand, lifting it and gently touching Cypher’s cheek.

Cypher let him, leaning ever so slightly against it.

Omen moved forward, a tiny movement, barely perceptible. But Cypher noticed, he always noticed everything about him. 

Cypher moved closer, face just a few centimeters from Omen’s, close enough Omen could feel his breath against him.

His heart hammered wildly, breath getting caught.

Cypher closed his eyes, leaning closer, and closer.

And then…

Omen’s arm twitched.

His stomach suddenly dropped. Watching how his beige skin deformed, showing bandaged, grayed claws with a hum for a moment before they settled back, like nothing happened. But it was too late. Omen could notice clearly now, how part of this jacket sleeve seemed to clip into Cypher’s scarf. How his fingers looked just a bit off against his face.

An illusion.

What was he doing?

What had he done ?

He stiffened up, stopping Cypher dead in his tracks.

Cypher opened his dark eyes to look at him with concern.

“What’s wrong?” He whispered.

Omen flickered again. 

Everything.

“I-...” He started, feeling his body shudder again, and again, becoming an unstoppable tick. The more Cypher’s expression twisted in worry, the worse he felt. And the worse it got. 

“Omen-”

Omen didn’t let him finish.

“I’m sorry. I have to go.” 

He turned around and started walking away in hurried steps.

“Omen-” Cypher called again but he couldn’t hear it. He let his body scatter, reforming several meters away, painfully. He shouldn’t teleport in these conditions but he needed to get away. So he did it again, and again, further each time. He bashed at that damned bracelet with unsteady hands, cursing himself until the disguise finally came off and he was staring at the taters that made himself.

He managed to reach the base eventually. He rushed to his room, dropping the bracelet over his desk and tugging the circlet with more force than necessary, throwing it down as well. He locked himself in his bathroom and held himself tight, forcing his body to stay whole. Making himself as small as he could, curled in the corner of the cold tiled floor.

Stupid. Stupid!

What was he thinking?!

That disguise had been a terrible idea.

So what? He dressed up as a man and suddenly he thought he could pretend he was that? A slightly handsome man, enjoying a walk in the park, and having what. Dates?

He scoffed at himself, air coming out cut off by another shudder.

That was not him. He couldn’t have that. And worse of all, he tricked Cypher into thinking it was.

Of course Cypher could enjoy a day with a handsome man, unbothered by anyone else, free to do as they pleased.

How would he share that with Omen? 

Omen couldn’t have it.

Cypher didn’t deserve to not have it because of him.

He felt awful. He shouldn’t have worn that disguise ever.

He spent the night in that corner. Thinking about a million ways to apologize to Cypher for offering him something he couldn’t give him, the taste of coffee still in his tongue.

—

To be completely honest, Omen was stalling.

He spent the whole morning locked in his room, and was well on his way to spending the afternoon as well.

He didn’t think he’d ever be ready to face Cypher again, though he knew he would have to eventually.

It just all became so complicated. It was one thing to know he had been enjoying Cypher’s company for months now, the way they got each other and fit without having to say a word, but it was a whole other thing to realize how deep that feeling went, to the point that yes, Omen wanted to spend more time with Cypher. He wanted to hold his hand again, and feel his warmth and know what coffee tasted like on his lips.

But how could he deal with any of that now? Now that he put on a fake face and pretended to be someone else to finally win his affections?

That was low.

“I’m sorry. ” He trained his apology again. “I didn’t mean to trick you. I let my feelings get the best of me.” 

Agh… He gripped his head.

He needed to stop knitting octopi and just… get it over it. It’d probably hurt less than whatever this was now.

Or it’d hurt more.

Whatever, Omen was used to pain.

It didn’t mean he looked forward to it.

He sighed, giving up. He hadn’t even eaten all day. This was getting pathetic. So he gathered his strength and got up from his new pile of crochet octopi, marching his way to the door of his room like a man to his execution.

He opened his door and was met with Cypher, a hand raised up and mask lenses blown wide in surprise.

“Omen.” He called like he didn’t expect him to be there, despite being about to knock on his door. He tried to recollect himself. “Can we… Can we talk?”

Down came the executioner sword, he guessed. 

Omen sighed, stepping back to let Cypher in.

Cypher walked inside stepping Omen.

Omen kicked away the pile of plushies, hoping Cypher would pay it no mind. He would.

“So…” Omen started, hoping to get it over with.

“I’m sorry.” Cypher was faster. “I didn’t mean to trick you. I let my feelings get the best of me.”

Omen looked up, bewildered.

Cypher picked at his belt sheepishly.

“I know you like your privacy and your space, and I just ended dragging you out of your comfort zone and pushing you into mine. Going out like that, putting all my cards in your hand, trying to… well…” He took his hat off holding it over his chest with one hand and scratching the back of his head with the other. “I shouldn’t have put all that pressure on you.”

Omen didn’t know what to say. 

“What.” He let out. Confused as to what vision of their outing he had that resulted in that conclusion.

Cypher hooked a hand under his mask and pulled it up.

Omen stared in awe at that same beautiful face greeted him from under the curly, although now mussed up from being in a mask, dark hair, but now it didn’t have a smile gracing it, but a grimace instead, a shameful downward stare.

“Showing my face… Opening up like that so suddenly. It’s a lot, I get it. I should’ve been more forthcoming.” He stumbled over his words. “You don’t have to reciprocate any of this. Not my feelings and certainly not your own secrets as well. I just… I felt like I could share it with you? Maybe.”

He sighed, not able to meet Omen’s stare for long.

“I hope we can at least stay friends? I don’t want this to be what puts a rift between us.”

Baffled.

Omen was baffled.

This was worse. TERRIBLY worse. Cypher had truly fallen for his façade. 

“Cypher.” He hesitated, trying to not let out how heartbroken he was. “I’m not… I’m not a man with a good face. I can’t… I can’t be that man. I’m… this.” He tried letting out.

Cypher frowned, confused.

“I can’t…” Omen stumbled. He pulled his hood down, the shadows swirling his head at full display. “ This is what I am. Not a man you can be seen at the park with… Not… not someone you paint a nice picture with under the sunset. You don’t want to stay with this.”

It looked like it took a second for it to click for Cypher. But it did. And when it did, his eyes widened, horror mixed in.

“Omen.” He started. “Did you think I only wanted to kiss you because you were disguised?”

“Why else would you?” Omen stated the obvious.

Apparently it wasn’t as obvious to Cypher.

“Heavens, no!” He exclaimed. “Omen! The disguise is just a mask, I didn’t fall in love with it. I fell in love with you. I’ve been in love for a while.”

“That’s impossible.” Omen argued. “How could you? You couldn’t possibly have regular dates or even be seen with me.”

“Are you kidding me?” Cypher asked exasperated. “Omen, I have a secret identity. I don’t care about not being seen. I don’t care about not having regular dates. Yesterday, I just wanted to try something different. Something fun. We don’t have to do that again. I could spend every date inside these walls, just cooking with you, or watching the sunset come down, or watching you binge knit a whole family of little animals.” He approached Omen as he spoke, gently pushing one of the octopi with the tip of his boot, until he was standing right in front of him.

Omen looked down, not really believing it.

“Why?”

“Why?” Cypher rested a hand against Omen’s arm. “Because I want to.”

Omen didn’t think that was possible.

Cypher let his hand come down slowly, gently, until his palm was against Omen’s, their fingers intertwined. Separated by their dark gloves. Omen stared at them. He liked how it looked.

“You don’t believe me.” Cypher said.

Omen shook his head agreeing.

“Then let me prove it?” Cypher raised his other hand, touching Omen’s cheek. A mirror of what he had done the night before. “Have a second first date with me. No fancy bracelets, just us.” He whispered. Their faces just a few centimeters away from each other.

“Convince me harder.” Omen whispered back.

Cypher closed the distance without hesitation, pressing their lips together in a kiss. Admittedly, Cypher had missed his mark a bit, hitting the corner of Omen’s mouth instead, but Omen didn’t blame him, he couldn’t really see where his mouth was anyway, but he could feel it under his own, so he moved, and Omen moved with him, deepening their kiss. 

Cypher pulled back with an intake of air, eyes coming open.

“How about this?”

Omen felt like his whole body was on fire.

“Fine. I’ll go.”

Cypher smiled, and it only made worse things to his heart knowing that was his smile. Wrinkles and all.