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“I need you to makeout with a blaze.”
The words echoed out of the speaker on Jimmy’s handheld communicator, a groan slipping out of the blonde’s mouth. As he pocketed his communicator his mind immediately began racing as to the possible repercussions associated with this fiery task. He’d made his own rules and suffered much, much worse when playing this dare game with his friends before, so he couldn’t just back out at the possibility of getting a couple burns here and there.
Unbeknownst to Jimmy, somewhere far across the wide expanse of the universe, in an unknown and desolate region of the Void, beings beyond comprehension and understanding reside, watching his every move. As the blonde player walks off to gather burn cream and fire resistance potions and chapsticks, the higher beings giggle as they exchange mischievous glances.
Now this, they can work with.
As if on cue, they wordlessly flit away, all simultaneously working together to orchestrate just the right chain of events in order to execute their will. Whatever these beings are or whatever their motivations are, they have grown fond of the player Jimmy, and equally as fond of messing with him.
With such a perfect situation that’s fallen into their lap, how can they not capitalize on taking advantage of what is practically already set in motion?
It only requires a little pushing and pulling on their part, which should be no problem at all.
Back in the realm of the known and the playing, Jimmy sets off to gather the tools for this expedition. He’ll have to go to the Nether so he needs to get geared up for that. He’ll need his golden boots and to make some fire resistance potions to avoid some of the nastier burns that are so easy to acquire when in the Nether.
He quickly finds his golden boots and pulls them on, only fitting a little snugly and rigidly. He hums absentmindedly as he looks through his chests for the materials to brew the potions.
Jimmy snags his nether wart and manages to find a stray magma cream in his chest room, but can’t for the life of him track down any glass bottles. He searches his sorting system, top to bottom, but can’t find anything.
With a grumble he rifles through his last chest, and to his delight, spots a half-stack of glass sitting at the bottom of the chest. He whoops triumphantly as he leans down to snag the glass to craft up some bottles, but just as his fingers brush the glass, he watches as it just disappears.
He blinks a couple times down at the spot where the glass just was. How did that just happen? It was like the glass just poofed out of existence. Is someone pulling a prank on him? If so, it’s not funny. He will definitely die a very fiery death if he doesn’t have any fire resistance potions on him when he goes to complete his— er, task —so it’s very crucial that he does have these potions.
He closes his chest with a huff, putting his hands on his hips as he scours around his house for a solution. He could go down to the riverbank and dig up some sand to smelt, which seems like the quickest and easiest option currently. But then again, why is he rushing this? It’s not like he’s excited to complete this task, why can’t he take his time gathering the materials before going to the Nether?
He takes his time getting his shovel and making his way out of his house, enjoying the brisk warmth of the afternoon sun on his face. When he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath in, he swears he can feel grain stalks brushing against his legs and the sounds of cattle and chicken off in the distance. He thinks nothing of it when he opens his eyes and the senses disappear. He continues on down towards the riverbank.
The house, a voice that is probably his conscience whispers at the back of his brain. He stops in his tracks, considering this interjection. The glass from the house.
What house? He thinks in return.
The one your friends made. You can take the glass from the house. They won’t mind.
He could just stand here in the middle of his dirt path wondering where the may-or-may-not-be-his-conscience voice came from and why it’s suggesting this. But then again, there is glass at the house ripe for the picking. And like his conscience-voice said, his friends won’t mind!
So he brings out his silk touch pickaxe and course corrects himself, setting off in the direction of the house his friends built. He’s already been there once today to install a doorbell, so as a reward for installing an amazing doorbell that Mumbo would definitely be proud of, Jimmy can borrow some glass for the time being. Surely his friends won’t mind, it’s not like they’ll even know!
As he follows the path up and over the small hill towards the house, it comes into view and he almost flinches at the sight of it. It’s not the prettiest house, especially with the giant Grian head built into the roofing. He sighs as he makes his way down, already spotting the prized glass on the side of the building.
As he follows the path he’d barely made earlier today, he notices small, colorful flowers planted along the path. Strange. He doesn’t remember planting those. But honestly, they’re quite cute and tie the whole pathing together, so it’s not like he’s complaining!
As he approaches the house he makes his way to one of the windows, readying his pickaxe to swing, when the voice returns, itching at the back of his brain.
Inside.
“What?” He says aloud, because it’s not like anyone is around to hear him talking to himself.
Go inside.
“Why?”
You can get the glass easier from inside. Go inside.
It’s not like Jimmy particularly wants to argue with the voice of his conscience. After all, isn’t it supposed to know best? Even if the glass is right here and he doesn’t know what benefits he’d be granted by going inside to get the glass, he figures he may as well listen to the voice anyway.
He trudges back around to the front of the house and figures he may as well use the doorbell before entering. He presses it and hears the cutesy chime of the note block contraption, smiling to himself at his accomplishments. He tries the door handle and swings the door open, stepping inside to get his glass and get out.
When Tango woke up today his head was already racing with plenty of plans and projects he needed to accomplish today to keep on schedule with the production of Decked Out.
What he did not expect when he woke up today was to find a portal doorway smack dab in the middle of the guts of Decked Out.
This isn’t the first time he’s seen a portal doorway appear in his base before. They’re the most common way for players to travel between worlds seamlessly, and it’s also how Grian gets all his friends to join in on the death games he hosts every now and again. But doubt creeps through Tango as he stands and stares at the portal doorway. Limited Life just barely ended, how could there be another life game up and running so quickly? And he usually receives an invitation from Grian prior to the games’ starting. So if this isn’t an invitation to another death game, what is it?
Tango isn’t really in the business of stepping through magical portal gateways that randomly appear around his base. Well, maybe he would be on any other day, but he’s got a lot of stuff to do today, and stepping through this mysterious doorway could totally throw off his whole mojo.
But it’s not like he can just leave it here. Who knows what kind of danger it could put all his complex redstone machines in? Or what if one of his fellow Hermits decides to come along and winds up going through it?
No matter whatever craziness is associated with this portal, Tango knows that it’s not a good idea for it to just sit here and hang out, especially when it’s so close to the redstone wiring of Decked Out.
But how does he get it to go away? He knows nothing about portal doorways!
Go through, says a little voice at the back of his brain, but Tango dismisses that urge immediately. If he is being pranked right now, then the pranker definitely wants for Tango to go through. So he’s going to do the exact opposite!
He whips out his communicator and begins typing up a message to send to Grian. If anyone knows why or how this portal doorway appeared in his base, Grian would know.
Go through, you know you want to!
“I really think that I don’t!” Tango says in a sing-song manner, finishing up his message to Grian. But just as he’s about to press send, the communicator is knocked out of his hands, skidding across the cave floor. “Hey!” He shouts at— well, he’s not really sure.
He steps forward to grab his communicator but is knocked backwards by an invisible force. He yelps as he’s thrown backwards, directly into and through the portal doorway. Welp, guess he is figuring out what’s up with the portal by going through it, after all.
His stomach is doing somersaults for a brief moment as he’s suspended in a dull galaxy of Void. Whispers float above his head as he’s held there in the empty nothingness, and if he listens closely, he can swear that he hears giggling.
Then he’s back on his feet before he knows it, standing upright in a building of some sort. It’s dimly lit, silk curtains hanging over the windows and candles arranged in a circular fashion surrounding him on the dirt floor. He glances around the room and tries to get his bearings, and realizes that he’s no longer in his Deep Frost Citadel get-up, and is in fact back in his regular everyday clothes. Inexplicably, he’s clutching a poppy in his hand.
He has very little time to question how or why he’s ended up where he currently is before he hears a door being opened behind him, accompanied by a familiar voice calling his name.
“Tango?”
Tango whips around to see his old soulmate, the one and only Jimmy Solidarity standing in the doorway, disbelief painted across his face and a pickaxe hanging at his side. Despite the confusion and bewilderment currently coursing through Tango’s veins, simply seeing Jimmy makes a warmth bloom through his chest.
“Jimmy!” Tango echoes, a bemused laugh falling out of his mouth. “Um, I didn’t—”
“How are you here?” Jimmy asks, taking a couple steps into the building, putting away his pickaxe.
“I don’t know! One second I was on Hermitcraft and then there was this door and—” Tango pauses, looking down and inspecting the ringlet of candles circling him. “Wait a second. Did you summon me?”
Jimmy’s face pales at the accusation. “Why would I— I didn’t set any of this up, I have no idea why this is here or how you got here and—!”
“Uh huh,” Tango says with an unconvinced nod. He crosses his arms, a smile forming as he watches Jimmy go red as he panics.
“Tango you have to believe me,” Jimmy says, taking another step forward. “I have nothing to do with this—!”
If Tango hadn’t been paying attention he might have thought Jimmy tripped, but there is no reasonable explanation for how even Jimmy could cross the expanse of the room so quickly just by tripping. It was almost as if some invisible force shoved him forward until he broke the ring of candles and was mere centimeters away from Tango. Both of their eyes go wide at the sudden forced proximity, Jimmy going rigid as Tango bites his tongue.
“I—” Jimmy musters, scrambling for an explanation as his face goes cherry-red. “I must have tripped, I didn’t mean to—”
“What is going on?” Tango asks, scrambling back ever so slightly as he begins laughing.
“I have no idea,” Jimmy says, a little breathlessly. Then his eyes widen, as if he just realized something. He groans outwardly, running a hand down his face.
“What? What is it?” Tango asks, curiosity taking hold.
When Jimmy pulls his hand away, his face is red and he’s avoiding looking Tango in the eyes. “I may or may not have been tasked to— um, well, kiss a blaze. Well, actually, makeout with one.”
Tango blinks at the admission. He bristles slightly at the thought, not at all jealous. Nope, not at all.
“How does that play into whatever is going on here?” Tango asks, cocking his head slightly as he gestures between them.
Jimmy just stares at him for a moment, dumbfounded. “Tango,” he deadpans.
It takes him a moment for it to click. And when it does, panic surges through him, face inadvertently going just as red as Jimmy’s was a moment ago. “Am I the blaze in this situation?” Well, more like blazeborne, but it might still count.
Jimmy shuffles, avoiding eye contact once more. “Well, you don’t have to be, but I gotta do the task no matter what, so…” He looks up at Tango, brown eyes wide and almost full of what Tango would describe as longing.
Tango bristles, and now he’s the one avoiding eye contact. “Wait, you said you were tasked with this? What does that even mean?”
Jimmy just shrugs. “Well, one of my friends told me. It’s kind of like a dare, I just gotta do it no matter what.”
Tango snorts. “Do you do everything your friends tell you to?”
“Tango,” Jimmy says, expression serious all of a sudden. “It’s okay, I’m not gonna force you to if you don’t want to. Just say the word, then we can try and figure out a way to get you back home.”
Tango could lie and say that he at least thought about denying his own buried desires and trying to figure out a way to return home. But really there was no hesitation in his mind. As soon as Jimmy’s tone lowered and his eyes filled with sternness and perhaps disappointment, Tango knew it was over for him. He always had a hard time saying ‘no’ to Jimmy.
“I’m not saying ‘no’,” Tango says, scrambling to reassure his old soulmate, his rancher, that everything is okay and that his feelings are still, after all this time, reciprocated. “‘S just a little unconventional, is all.”
Jimmy raises an eyebrow as Tango slips closer in anticipation. “Unconventional? How do you mean?”
Tango shrugs, a smile tugging at his lips. “All I’m saying is if you wanted a kiss you didn’t have to make a summoning circle to get me here.”
Jimmy frowns, but his face goes red all the same. “Tango,” he groans, and Tango would be a liar if he said the teasing didn’t make him feel a little giddy. “I’m serious. I didn’t set any of this up.”
Tango smiles as he gets lost in Jimmy’s eyes, just as easily as he did when they were back on Double Life. “Whatever you say, songbird.” He reaches up to cradle the back of Jimmy’s head, eyelids drooping as they begin inching closer. Tango lets his eyes close as Jimmy’s breath ghosts across his lips, mouth opening slightly in expectation.
“Wait!” Jimmy suddenly pulls away from Tango, leaving the blazeborne hanging. Tango frowns, an eyebrow raised as he watches Jimmy fish around in his pockets for something. He’s triumphant in the end, when he pulls out a tube of chapstick and shakily uncaps it before applying it.
Tango can’t help from giggling at the sight, raising a hand to hide his smile. Jimmy’s eyes narrow at him.
“Don’t patronize me,” he says playfully, capping the chapstick and slipping it back into his pocket.
“Just get over here, loverboy,” Tango beckons, a drawl worming its way into his voice. Jimmy grins like a mad man, obeying Tango as he quickly closes the distance between them and kisses Tango with just as much passion and desire as the very first time.
Even though it’s unconventional, even though they haven’t done this in so long, even though there’s been so much distance and time since their initial fling, Tango kisses Jimmy with just as much intensity and longing. Jimmy returns it without hesitation, pressing close to Tango and planting his hands firmly on Tango’s hips.
Tango lets his hands wander with reckless abandon as their lips press against one another in tandem, the familiarity of it working in their favor each time their lips meet throughout the heated kiss. Tango’s hand travels up Jimmy’s arm, tracing the line of clothed muscle until it rests on the blonde’s shoulder, his other hand on the back of Jimmy’s neck in order to deepen the kiss.
When they part, they’re both left gasping for air before quickly reconnecting their lips. Jimmy wordlessly guides Tango backwards until his back is pressed against the wood paneling of whatever house Tango’s ended up in. Tango gasps as Jimmy gently pushes him up against the wall, allowing for Jimmy to tug at Tango’s lower lip with his teeth. Every touch and meeting of their lips and press of their bodies sends Tango into a further state of euphoria. His mouth is pliant against Jimmy’s, allowing for his soulmate to take what they both have wanted for so long. Tango’s hands ball into fists in the fabric of Jimmy’s jacket, pulling him inexplicably closer. They’re both breathing heavily and after a blissful moment, they both pull away once more, breaths uneven and thready. Jimmy laughs, his chest rumbling against Tango’s as he raises a hand to cup the blazeborne’s cheek. Tango gratefully leans into the touch, eyes needily taking in Jimmy’s lovesick expression and his wet, slightly bruised lips.
Before he knows it Jimmy leans closer once more and is pressing kisses against his neck and jawline. Tango involuntarily purrs, allowing himself to slip into the bliss that accompanies Jimmy’s knowing touch. Jimmy’s lips travel across the expanse of his neck and up to his jawline, lingering in just the right spots he’s come to learn. Tango’s legs feel a bit like jelly underneath him, but one of Jimmy’s hands remains on his hip and helps to stabilize him.
Eventually Jimmy pauses from his work, breath hot against Tango’s already warm skin. Tango tips his head back in elation, holding Jimmy close against him.
“I don’t know how you got here, Tango,” Jimmy says quietly, panting slightly in exhilaration, “but you’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like.”
“I might just take you up on that offer,” Tango says, a hand guiding Jimmy’s face up in order to meet his eyes. He smiles at his rancher and Jimmy smiles back, a sweet and soft smile he knows that’s only reserved for him. Tango lowers his hands and hooks his fingers around Jimmy’s belt loops, tugging him closer so they can resume their making out.
Somewhere far across the wide expanse of the universe, a group of unknown and unseen beings celebrate and cheer as two soulmates are brought back together. Even if it required a little coaxing and some server-bending, the two have been reunited more ceremoniously than ever. Whatever these beings are, gods or angels or viewers or watchers, they celebrate all the same, for their work here is done.