Chapter Text
*******
The first few coughs happened during a match of the Apex Games, when Nox was least expecting it. The force of them caused his aim to fly wide, the Peacekeeper in his hands suddenly rendered useless as its last shot was fired into the rocky mountain. He won the fight with a quick, heavy punch and a single tick of gas damage from one of his traps, knocking the last member of the squad and ending the fight.
As he reloaded his Peacekeeper, he brushed off the experience, assuming the coughs were due to a new pollen he was being exposed to on Storm Point. It was a perfectly logical explanation, after all.
“Hey, nice one! High five!”
Nox met eyes with his teammate - Elliott (commonly known as Mirage) who had his hand held up excitedly - for a single moment before striding past him and heading toward the next area. From behind him, Elliott called out, “Or ignore me, that’s cool too!”
Despite his confident pace, Nox fought with his thoughts for a handful of seconds. Duos were always more difficult when he was paired with Elliott. The man was highly… distracting. In more ways than one. From his perfect, floppy curls to his shining gold-scaled jumpsuit, it was impossible to miss him physically. Mentally -
“Hey, after this, wanna get a beer?”
“No,” Nox said flatly.
“Oh… okay.”
Nox tried to pretend that he wasn’t bothered by the disappointment in Elliott‘s voice.
“You frequently join me outside of the games, in my laboratory. I cannot fathom a logical explanation as to why you would desire to see me in a social setting.” Nox glanced at Elliott in the corner of his eye, seeing him shrug even as he jogged to keep up.
“Just, ya know. Thought it would be cool to spend some time with you outside of fighting for our lives! And it would be great to talk about something other than the ways we’re gonna kill people.” He laughed with a tinge of nervousness.
Nervousness. Most curious.
Footsteps sounded to their right, ending the conversation.
Another squad wipe later left them panting and bleeding, crouching for cover underneath the stairwell of a suspended yellow house. They both used Phoenix Kits, the familiar mechanical whining seeming far too loud for their precarious position.
“Hey, let’s make a bet,” Elliott said quietly with a playful grin. “If we win this thing, I’ll do anything you want - but only once! And if we lose, you have to get drunk with me.” He winked as his Phoenix Kit finished healing him. Upon dropping the depleted cylinder, he shot finger guns at Nox.
“Why would I take that bet when there are nine squads left? The odds are not in our favor.”
“Because,” Elliott replied, his grin becoming wider. “You could have complete silence for a whole match if you wanted.” He shrugged, acting nonchalant. “Or, ya know, I just owe you a favor. Up to you.”
Nox contemplated it for a few seconds. He couldn’t deny that having a man so well known and adored as Elliott - Mirage - owing him a favor could potentially unlock doors that he was unable to on his own. And if he himself lost the bet… well, he could still handle his liquor.
“Very well. We have a deal.”
“Yes!” Elliott exclaimed quietly, clapping his hands together for a moment.
Nox frowned, utterly baffled as to why Elliott was so excited. Regardless, he would do his best to win the match.
*******
At the Water Hole with five squads left, they aced a team only to be immediately set upon by a third party. They took care of them, but the encounter left the pair scraped and bleeding badly. Just as they jogged for cover behind loot chests where they could heal up, a sniper shot ripped through Nox’s chest, sending him sprawling into the grass.
He tried to stem the bleeding even as he crawled toward Elliott as fast as he could. The man was frantically gesturing for him to join him in safety. Nox heard quick footsteps and mechanical legs signaling the approach of Octane. Elliott sent out a decoy that was immediately shot. As it dematerialized, Octane came sprinting around the corner, already pulling the trigger of an Eva-8. Elliott immediately began shooting back, the burr of his R-99 unmistakable.
Another sniper bullet cracked Nox’s white knockdown shield. The third bullet nailed his helmet, and all he saw was darkness.
*******
Playful brown eyes stared up at him, calloused fingers entwined with his own. Brown curls blew slightly in the wind. Nox’s eyes fell to smirking pink lips. He felt overwhelmed by an emotion that he was unfamiliar with.
The world behind his partner was bright, but indistinct; that didn’t matter though. The only thing that mattered were dark eyelashes fluttering closed as the man stood on his tiptoes and leaned in. Nox used his free hand to cup the man’s face, thumb running over a neatly-kept beard.
He gave into his desire and closed his eyes, dipping his head down and kissing the beautiful man gently, sweetly. Those pink lips were soft, so soft as they moved against his.
*******
Nox opened his eyes to see the ceiling of the main ship’s medical bay. He glared at it, nostrils flaring.
On one hand, he was angry that the dream had ended so soon; on the other, he hated that he was having the dreams to begin with. They came more frequently these days. It seemed as though his subconscious was becoming slowly consumed by Elliott as Nox learned that he was more than a pretty face.
The man had been growing on him for months. The attraction and fondness that Nox felt for him were continuously spiraling upwards like some sort of particularly stubborn vine, despite his own disdain for it. Elliott was charming and funny, somehow always managing to get Nox to crack a grin from behind his mask at least once a game. He was highly intelligent too, which piqued Nox’s interest; more often than not, he actually found himself out of his own depth of knowledge when Elliott discussed his holographic inventions.
Nox hated that he loved it; or at least, he told himself that he hated it.
Off the field, Elliott often brought him coffee in the lab. He would pepper Nox with questions about his work, appearing to actually be interested. Sometimes he would bring a book, and they would work quietly. Others, he would bring a small invention that he was tinkering with and chatter about what he was working on. Nox found those evenings to be… well, lovely.
Later that evening was one of those times.
“What’s this for?” Elliott asked, poking a beaker with bright red fluid.
Nox glanced up from his microscope before going back to his analysis and replying, “It’s a catalytic agent that has been combined with hydraulic acid. It holds the ability to cause extreme pain by melting the skin and muscle off of your bones in seconds.”
In his peripheral vision, he saw Elliott lean back quickly. “Oh. You uh, don’t plan on using this stuff in the games, right?” He laughed nervously.
“No. It’s too powerful. I would be unable to stop it from affecting myself as well, especially in a gaseous state.”
“Oh, okay, cool. Good to know. At least I know you’ve got some good stuff to protect us with if anyone tried to mess with the ship! I’d hate to be the person you’re pissed at!”
Nox couldn’t help but smirk. “Yes, you would hate it. That is a mere fraction of the pain I could inflict.”
“Oh yeah, I ber- berlie- believe you.” His voice brightened as he asked, “Hey, you lost that bet.” Nox could hear the grin in his voice, and something inside of him loosened. “That means you owe me a night out sometime! And I was hoping that that sometime could be like, right now.”
Nox looked up from his microscope in surprise, before narrowing his eyes in suspicion. “Why? What could you possibly gain from my inebriation?”
“Just, you know. To talk and uh, have a good time! We’re always talking about death and murder, it would be good for you to relax some. Working all the time isn’t healthy, you know.”
“Nor is the amount of sugar you consume on a daily basis,” Nox countered with a small smirk.
Elliott blushed and gently play-punched him on the arm. “Hey, leave my chocolate out of this, okay? Ajay said I’m nowhere near dia- diatea- diabetic! And don’t try to change the subject!”
Nox cleared his throat, repressing a cough before sighing deeply. “Very well, we can go.”
“Awesome!”
The pair made their way to the ship’s bar, where most (if not all) of the other Legends had already congregated. Elliott steered Nox toward the bar itself with a hand on his shoulder. (Nox pretended as though his entire body wasn’t on high alert from that single touch.)
Once they arrived, Elliott grinned and asked, “What’s your poison, Master Gasser?”
Nox raised an eyebrow at the epithet. “‘Master Gasser?’” He was thrilled to see a bright pink blush spread across Elliott’s cheeks.
Clearly embarrassed, Elliott scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah. Cause you’re a ma- maz- master at gassing us, get it?”
“Fitting, then, I suppose. As for my drink, I can only consume Alpha-level substances.”
Elliott’s eyes became huge as his embarrassment was forgotten. “Alpha-level?” He looked Nox up and down. “Look buddy, I’m strong, but I don’t think I can carry you to the med bay. Won’t you get like, alcohol poisoning super fast?”
“No. I am simply immune to most toxins due to having exposed myself to such a large number during my lifetime.”
Wonder replaced an expression of worry. “That’s cool as fuck. Anyway, time to get to it!” He faced the bar and waved his arm. “Bartender!”
*******
In retrospect, perhaps getting drunk with the object of his affections was not the brightest idea.
One neon green drink found Nox relaxing enough to actually smile more often than not, and four tequila shots for Elliott had him breaking the touch barrier between them. Nox’s heart was beating out of his chest every time Elliott would touch his arm during a laugh, but he didn’t think he was giving himself away too much beyond a smile.
Nox downed the second neon drink quickly - quick enough for Elliott to do three more shots by the time he finished it. The room became wonky, the handsome man in front of him becoming the centerpiece of his world as the alcohol did its job. He felt fuzzy, warm, so warm. Too warm.
Without thinking anything of it, he took off his outer jumpsuit jacket and laid it over the empty barstool to his left. He turned his attention back to Elliott, whose eyes were wide as they roamed the broad expanse of his chest. His t-shirt was fitted and black, a simple thing that he never gave much thought to. It did its job, and that was the point of it.
“Wow, you’re - you’re ripped,” Elliott said, still staring at Nox’s chest and shoulders. He then reached out and poked a thick, defined bicep. “And solid. That’s uh. Woah.”
Nox smirked as his pride flared. “Were you under the impression that I was some sort of weakling?”
“No!” Elliott exclaimed, his eyes shooting back up to Nox’s as that beautiful blush coated his cheeks again. “I just - I don’t know. You’ve always got that big suit on, I guess I thought some of your size was just from la- laiy- clothes.”
“Now you know you were mistaken. I exercise often.”
“Yeah, I can tell. Woah.”
There was a somewhat uncomfortable silence, then. Nox was only partially aware of Elliott’s eyes glued to his body again as he waved down the bartender.
“Another Alpha-Level glass, and two more shots for my… friend.”
As the MRVN began whipping up their drinks, Elliott’s voice piped up with a hopeful tone. “I’m your friend?”
Nox looked at him with a raised eyebrow, unable to resist the grin tugging at his lips. “I would certainly hope so, given the amount of time we spend together.”
“Hell yeah!” Elliott held up his hand for a high five.
With a playfully exasperated sigh, Nox indulged him. Just then, the MRVN finished with their drinks. Nox pulled his drink towards him, taking a long sip and beginning to hum along to the music that was playing even as Elliott downed his shots, chasing them with a bright pink drink (complete with a tiny umbrella) that he had been nursing all night.
By the time the pair finished their third round of alcohol, Nox was undeniably wasted.
He found himself leaning against the back wall of a booth, feeling better than he had in a long time. Elliott - who had forgone the jumpsuit jacket and revealed a plain white t-shirt and a simple gold chain around his neck - was in the booth with him. In fact, the handsome Legend was reclined - his back against Nox’s chest - and propping up the back of his head with his hand in a way that pointed his elbow to the ceiling. Nox had his arm around Elliott’s waist for security, since the man had nearly accidentally slipped under the booth twice already.
They casually discussed chemical theory with Fuse, who sat in the opposing seat looking highly amused - at least he did from what Nox could tell. The scientist didn’t quite have the spins, but he was certainly drunk enough that everything was somewhat morphed.
“Listen,” Nox slurred. “The next time we fight together, Elliott will send a de - decoy into a room to trap our opponents. I will then deton-nate my… I have forgotten the word.” He thought for a second and settled on, “Gas bomb, and you will fire your - what do you call them?”
“Knuckle clusters, mate,” Fuse replied, laughter in his voice.
“Of course. You will set those off. They will be trapped and dying.”
Elliott interjected, “And all we have to do is finish them off!”
“Exactly.”
Nox suddenly became aware of the firm torso beneath his hand. Without thinking, he slowly ran his thumb over the soft cotton shirt, accidentally finding soft skin at the end of the motion. Elliott tensed beneath him for a moment, but said nothing. A few seconds later, Nox felt Elliott’s hand on his thigh beneath the table. The trickster squeezed once before his thumb began stroking back and forth.
“You’re a bloody genius,” Fuse complimented, interrupting Nox’s solitary focus on his (and Elliott’s) physicality. “I’d love to see that in action. Especially if old Mags is there.”
“It would be… stimulating to witness.”
“Hey, but what if they have Bang?” Elliott asked. “She can just smoke us out.”
Fuse leaned forward with his elbows on the table. “Then we’ll have to sniff ‘em out, won’t we?”
Nox was unbothered by the idea. “Depending on the current stage of the match, there is the chance that they will die to our tacticals alone.”
In a pouty voice Elliott exclaimed, “Hey! But that means I won’t get any damage numbers! Unfair!”
Nox couldn’t help it; he laughed, harder than he had in decades. The world was spinning slightly as he did so, the alcohol-induced euphoria washing over him.
“A win is a win,” he finally managed to say. He noticed that Fuse was looking at him in amused surprise, but before he could think about it, a tickle in his throat made him cough slightly. The tickle became stronger, and he coughed a couple more times before finally catching it.
Before Elliott could disagree with Nox’s previous words about a win being a win, Valkyrie's voice came over the loudspeaker.
“Alright everybody, it’s karaoke time! Whooo’s ready for liftoff?”
A loud round of rambunctious cheering made Nox look over to see the slightly raised platform against the far wall, where Valkyrie was standing with a microphone in her hand.
“I’ll take that,” came Loba’s accented voice through the loud speaker as she strode up to her girlfriend. She pushed a few buttons on a machine that was set up on a bar stool, and music played. Almost as soon as the song began, she started to sing.
“You know my ex, that makes it all feel complicated, yeah.”
Elliott shot up straight. Without thinking, Nox’s arm tightened around him.
“I love this one!” Elliott exclaimed.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Nox asked, too wasted to realize how that must have sounded to Fuse.
Elliott spun around not unlike an otter, causing Nox’s breath to catch at how close their faces were.
“To sing!” Excitement danced in his eyes, and Nox couldn’t help but smile as he loosened his grip.
Elliott managed to extricate himself from Nox and stand up, wobbling for a few seconds before finding his balance and running up to the stage. As he did so, Fuse chuckled, the sound audible even over Valkyrie and Loba’s singing.
“It’s good to see you look happy instead of so bloody miserable!”
Nox, watching Elliott grab the mic so both he and Valkyrie could sing into it, smiled in a soft way that he was unaccustomed to. He opened his mouth to reply to Fuse, but immediately forgot what he was going to say as Elliott’s voice came through the mic, accompanied by Valkyrie's.
“I swear to god,
I never fall in love,
Then you showed up and I can’t get enough of it!”
Nox’s mood plummeted as disappointment and pure jealousy pumped through his veins. There was far too much excitement and passion in Elliott’s voice for him to not be empathizing with the song.
Of course he’s in love with someone, Nox thought viciously as he abruptly slid out of the booth. Due to his drunkenness, he had to grab the end of the table for support for a few moments until the world stopped spinning. He ignored Fuse’s call of concern, unable to focus on anything other than the lines Elliott was singing. Look at his face, Nox thought as he glanced up at Elliott for a few seconds. He tore his eyes away in pain. Hear his voice. The words he sings…
Nox quickly stalked to the exit. Everything felt like a dream, the world appearing watery in a way. I should have known. He may be the closest thing to perfection that humanity has to offer… but that does not make him any less unattainable; at least for me.
Once outside of the bar, the world began to spin even faster as his emotions and drunkenness got the best of him. He staggered into a wall, then slowly lowered himself to the ground. He rubbed his temples as he bent his knees so they pointed toward the ceiling. Being caught like this would be… disgraceful.
But whatever god existed clearly had it out for him, because even in the hallway he could hear Elliott singing about being in love. A little off-key in places, but it was very obvious that he meant what he was singing. Valkyrie’s voice was there as well, and Loba’s, but his brain focused heavily on Elliott. Unfortunately, at that moment, he was too drunk to walk.
Nox coughed suddenly, surprising himself as the tickle in his throat that he had felt earlier returned with a vengeance. He coughed again and again, unable to stop. He was rendered breathless by the strength of them. Eventually, however, they stopped. Panting for air, he pulled his hand away from his mouth and stared.
Red, with specks of yellow.
His vision swam slightly, eyes watering somewhat from the coughing fit. The red and yellow on his palm and fingers appeared to dance in a way similar to heatwaves.
Wait, he thought with a sharp jolt that managed to make him a fraction less drunk. Yellow?
He used his other hand to swipe at the yellow pieces. He squinted at them as he rubbed them between his fingers. Soft. Impossible.
Then it hit him.
Fuck, he cursed. More analysis is needed to confirm. He wiped his bloody hands on his shirt and used the wall to help him stand. Just as he was on his feet and managed to catch his breath, the bar doors slid open.
He hadn’t been expecting Elliott to search for him.
“Did you like it?” Elliott immediately asked excitedly, his eyes and smile brighter than any of the stars Nox had seen in space. He adored that smile, and it made him feel even more frustrated with the knowledge that Elliott had sang that song for someone other than him. After a second, though, Elliott’s expression began to dim as he registered the look on Nox’s face.
“No,” Nox said flatly.
Elliott’s expression instantly fell, appearing to be disappointed and confused.
“Why?”
Before Nox could speak, he coughed. He had been coughing more recently, as evidenced by his fit a mere minute ago… but this time was different - he couldn’t seem to catch it, no matter how hard he tried. He coughed harder and harder, until his throat was raw and he could feel the instinctual need to breathe. His back hit a wall and he doubled over, coughing into his hand.
He didn’t notice Elliott’s presence until he felt a hand on his back, slowly rubbing circles. His heart clenched at the gentle action, and slowly the coughs began to recede. Once they had, he managed to stand up straight, clearing his throat and gasping for air.
He pulled his hand away from his mouth, revealing skin that was far more blood-splattered than after his last coughing fit, along with a single bloody, yellow tulip petal.
His suspicions were confirmed; there was no need for an analysis of the yellow pieces after all.
“Hanahaki,” Elliott gasped quietly. His hand was gone just as quickly as it had come, and Nox hated how much he missed it already. Their small touches here and there meant far more to him than he wished they would. Their time in the bar had meant… “I’m - I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have sang that song if I had known you had…” he trailed off.
Nox looked up at Elliott and saw his pitying expression, mixed with something else he couldn’t quite name.
“It is none of your concern.”
“But they… you’re a catch, dude. You should tell them.”
“They have no desire to be with me in that way.” After wiping his hand on his shirt, he added, “No one does.”
“That isn’t true,” Elliott said instantly.
“Do not lie to me. I am not one to be placated with falsities.”
“I’m not…” he trailed off. “Do you need anything? A uh, cough drop or something? Because I could totally go get some from Ajay’s bay.”
Nox’s heart twisted at the expression of affection. No. Not affection. It’s concern, nothing more. With that in mind, he spat, “Leave me alone.”
Elliott jerked back as if burned. “Right. Okay. Sorry. I didn’t mean to-“
“Stop talking.”
Nox glanced over to see Elliott bite his lip as his chin dropped. “Okay. Whatever you want, dude.” He turned and left, heading back into the bar.
Elliott truly is in love with someone, Nox thought once again as he made his way to his apartment. It is a shame and a mercy all at once, for both of us. A sudden realization hit him. Yet… if I am dead, I can no longer continue my research.
Nox’s footsteps quickened. Upon reaching his quarters, he went to his computer and began to write a letter.
*******