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The door to the archives slides open unannounced. The other members of the Astral Express always knock before entering but Caelus is—different, and that's how Dan Heng knows it's him.
"Hey," he greets at the door. "Can I come in?"
Dan Heng doesn't look up from the tablet in his hands as he bobs his head. He remains quiet as the smell of soft clay and stardust brushes into the room. He can immediately tell that Caelus isn't here to look something up.
Caelus eventually owns this by asking, "Are you busy?"
Dan Heng meets ginkgo-gold eyes, expression neutral. "Is something the matter?"
"No. I'm just curious about you," Caelus says. "The others have talked to me about themselves, but nobody wants to talk about you. They say I should ask you myself, so—" He gestures between them.
Dan Heng takes a breath and releases it slowly. "I see."
He supposes this was inevitable. Caelus is a curious person—if one could house a Stellaron inside them and still be considered a person—and his head innocently tilts as he waits for Dan Heng's go-ahead to begin; a nod.
It's the typical fare. Where are you from? Why are you here? Where are you going? Dan Heng deflects these inquiries and more. It isn't that he wants to be mysterious—Caelus is just looking for answers that are difficult to give without disclosing more than he's comfortable with. At times like this, he envies March 7th, whose amnesia allows her to genuinely answer I don't remember. But Caelus has proven himself a headstrong ally, remarkably good-natured, with an odd fixation on trash cans and a strange knack for business management.
So he endures.
As it drags on, he expects Caelus to be annoyed by their terse dialogue. Instead, the fellow Trailblazer looks more and more thoughtful by the moment, like the things Dan Heng won't answer are just as interesting as the things he will. Eventually, Caelus exhausts his questions.
"I'd offer to answer things too, but you already know everything about me." He sighs, rubbing his neck. Briefly, Caelus' downturned eyes look the same as March's: He's disappointed with himself, like there's something wrong with him.
"That's not true," Dan Heng corrects him. "There will always be things about you that I don't know," he says, his own eyes finding the wall. "There will always be things that one does not know about themselves." Dan Heng grips the crease of his elbow, and he thinks Caelus notices but chooses not to comment for his sake.
"Then I guess," Caelus smiles, drawing Dan Heng's attention by stepping forward. "We'll just have to learn about ourselves together. Right?"
And there it is: The golden glow that Dan Heng can't look away from, as if Caelus is welcoming him into an embrace with his eyes alone. The reticent male silently nods, then looks down at his tablet, indicating that he's finished conversing.
There's an anticipatory pause.
"Hey." Dan Heng freezes as a glove suddenly shadows his hand. "Can I ask you one more question?"
Dan Heng relaxes his grip and nods again. Caelus waits until Dan Heng looks up at him. Their gazes mingle for a moment until the proximity makes Dan Heng uncomfortable. His expression shifts and his body language grows more closed as he tries to step away, but Caelus' fingers gently slip around his wrist and root him in place.
"Have you ever kissed anybody before?"
Dan Heng's eyes flicker with surprise before he quickly looks aside. Heat had begun crawling up his back as soon as Caelus walked in; it's even worse now, the flush starting to creep beyond the collar of his turtleneck. "No," he swallows hard. Not in this life.
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Caelus smile. "Uhuh. Sorry—just one more."
The smell of clay grows stronger, stardust filling Dan Heng's nose, his every breath warmed by the Stellaron's—Caelus' heat. Caelus’ lips are only inches from his cheek and Dan Heng's neck is on fire.
"When I first woke up," Caelus says, rubbing a circle into Dan Heng's wrist, "someone told me that I should make sure not to have any regrets. So I wanted to ask you..." Their chests press together. Frigid blue finally lifts to meet molten gold. "Is there anything you regret?"
Dan Heng's expression twists farther than either of them expects it to. How can he regret things he doesn't remember? Can he loathe himself and his decisions without the context, only the consequences? Before Caelus can probe the tumult of his thoughts, Dan Heng sighs, setting down his tablet. "Caelus, is this going somewhere?" he asks.
"I'd like it to," Caelus responds, blindingly honest. "Would you?"
As Dan Heng forces his heart to find a steady beat again, he thinks he ought to stop being surprised by the other's bluntness; he wields a bat like a weapon, after all. "Caelus," Dan Heng says again, his cautionary tone tempering Caelus' enthusiasm, "I don't think this is a good idea."
"Why not?" With his regular goofy smile, Caelus chuckles, "I do things you and March think are bad ideas all the time and those turn out alright, don't they?"
Dan Heng sighs. "Past victories—"
"—don't guarantee future ones," Caelus finishes, his smile softening. "Just like there's no guarantee we'll have another chance for this." Dan Heng's brow knits as Caelus squeezes his wrist. "You don't have to commit to anything. I just—"
Caelus is stopped by a cold hand gently touching his cheek. With a thumb on his jaw and long fingers nearing his temple, his eyes widen and glitter. Words fall away. Orbiting stars circle closer and closer, threatening to collide. Caelus' eyes shut as if trusting the universe.
Dan Heng finds himself doing the same.
Their lips meet in something tentative and barely-there. Caelus presses for more, but Dan Heng pulls back. They open their eyes and re-evaluate for a moment, searching one another for a sign. Dan Heng gives it with a soft, silent nod. They kiss again, less shy this time, assured that this is something that can be indulged without fear.
Whatever this may or may not turn into, at least for now, they have no regrets.
Dan Heng's hand cups Caelus' warm cheek. They part to breathe the wonders of the cosmos together. Then, abruptly, Caelus laughs. A hot flash races up Dan Heng's throat to finally start coloring his cheeks. He feels juvenile as he demands, "What is it?"
"I feel better," Caelus replies, pressing their foreheads together. Dan Heng can feel him vibrating.
"About what?"
"Not having regrets," he explains with a smile, eyes still closed. Dan Heng watches his lashes flutter over his cheeks. "I had one—when March pushed you out of the way after I woke up—and now I don't."
Dan Heng is speechless, so he just shakes his head, a mute smile on his face.
Caelus' eyes drift open. Dan Heng's expression sobers slightly, but the golden-eyed Trailblazer just smiles at him.
"One more question: Can I stay here tonight?"
"The archives are a public space. I can't stop you."
"So... yes?"
Dan Heng sighs as he nods into another fond kiss.