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When Ren felt himself being shaken awake, his first thought was that he must be back in Hermitcraft. Someone was probably there to ask where he’d been, or at least say he overslept. He had just kind of assumed when he went to bed that night, his experience in the game was over.
When his vision and wits came to him, however, he found that was not the case. It was still dark from where he lay in the heart island’s foliage, and ruby eyes stared down at him.
He yelped. A hand covered his mouth. It was quiet for a second, until Skizz resumed snoring somewhere beside him.
“What are you hiding?” hissed Martyn. Of course it was Martyn. Ren had forgotten it couldn’t be anyone else. His gaze was so intense– he hadn’t looked at Ren like that in a while.
He hadn’t looked at Ren in a while.
He wasn’t looking at Ren now, Ren realized.
“I’m not hiding anything,” he tried to say. It was muffled by Martyn’s hand. The red removed it, and Ren repeated himself in a whisper. Martyn’s glare deepened.
“Yes you are,” with a start, Ren felt the sharp coolness of a blade at his neck. “Now tell me what it is.”
“You– you can’t kill me,” Ren said.
“You don’t know that,” Martyn replied. He was right. Ren wasn’t actually sure if he could or not.
“I don’t– I– I’m not hiding anything! I’m just feeling kind of under the weather–”
“Don’t lie to me. I know how you lie,” Martyn paused for a second, then sneered. “Which is weird, isn’t it? Because I don’t know how Tango lies.”
Ren hesitated. For far too long.
“That… is weird. Because how would you know how I lie when you don’t know how Tango lies? Tango being– being me, of course.”
Martyn recognizing him wasn’t necessarily surprising. It seemed everyone knew subconsciously– Joel and Mumbo had slipped up with his name, Skizz’s compliments were… suspicious, to say the least. But the rest of the time everyone earnestly treated him as Tango. Martyn wasn’t any exception. But, still…
Martyn narrowed his eyes.
“Tango,” he pressed the blade closer, “What can you not tell me?”
Ren inhaled a deep breath and suppressed a swear.
“If I can’t tell you, how would I?” he responded, quietly. That was the one thing he’d somehow known when he turned up here. No one could know.
Maybe that was the right thing to say, because Martyn’s hard gaze seemed to soften, just lightly. And, more pressingly, the sword eased up some. Ren went on.
“M–Maybe it’s not really something I can’t tell you. Maybe it’s just something that… that everyone assumed, and I have to go along with.”
Martyn was still staring at him, but something seemed to have changed.
Quiet, almost so quiet that Ren didn’t hear, he said “Ren?”
Ren froze. He thought he had done a pretty good job at hiding his identity.
Maybe he had. Martyn always was too observant for his own good.
Ren was doomed. He wasn’t any good at lying in the best of times. Especially not to Martyn. Especially not when he was looking at him like that.
He tried to smile. Make his next words sound almost like a joke.
“If I was Ren,” he forced a laugh, “that would… definitely be something I wouldn’t be able to tell you.”
Martyn dropped the sword from his throat. Ren felt like he could breathe again.
“Right,” said Martyn. That harsh intensity was gone. It was replaced by something softer, but almost distant. He sat up, allowing Ren to do so as well. Ren had hardly even registered the weight on top of him.
“Do you want to go for a walk?” Martyn asked. Ren looked at him.
“Huh?” he looked around. Martyn was standing up. “How do I know you won’t kill me?”
“I’m feeling uncharacteristically kind,” Martyn deadpanned.
Ren nodded, and got to his feet.
“Plus, you were right,” Martyn added, with a shrug and a bit of a smile. “I can’t really kill you anyways.”
“Wh–” Ren furrowed his brow, “Well, jeez! Way to make a dude sweat!”
Martyn turned and gave Ren a wider smile. This one was warmer. It felt nice to not have to obscure his vocabulary– he figured Martyn was similarly happy to hear it.
They were mostly silent as they left the Heart Foundation, crossing the bridge to the mainland. The whole world was quiet. It was sleeping.
Ren didn’t miss much about the life games, but oddly, something he did miss was the night. It was relatively calm, compared to the day, once everyone went to bed. Some sort of silent truce seemed to hang in the air. Everyone was equally exhausted.
Something else Ren missed was Martyn. His hand twitched, as if to take the other’s, but he pulled back. Maybe that would be too much.
“So…” Ren said. Martyn looked at him. “Where are you taking me, exactly? I mean, obviously I know where everyone’s bases are, I’m just making sure.”
Martyn laughed a little, and rolled his eyes.
“Nowhere in particular,” he admitted. “Just a late night stroll, I guess.”
“Ah, yes. Clears the head,” Ren nodded.
“Something like that.”
Martyn stopped in front of the Secret Keeper. Ren stopped with him. For a while, he just watched Martyn stare at the stone mass.
“If there was something you couldn’t tell me,” Martyn began, eventually breaking the silence. “Do you know why you wouldn’t be able to?”
Ren nodded.
“Um. I don’t think so. I think it’s just– It would be just… a gut feeling.”
“Hm.”
“...Why do you ask?” Ren looked between the Secret Keeper and Martyn.
“Oh, I’ve just… I have a gut feeling of my own. And it’s not a good one.”
A second’s quiet.
“Huh.”
The statue and Martyn broke metaphorical eye contact as he turned away.
“Anyway,” he said. “I can take you by my place, if you’d like. I don’t think you’ve seen it.”
“Oh. Sure thing.”
Martyn nodded, and began leading him to the aforementioned base.
“So, Martyn…” Ren began. Martyn hummed his acknowledgement. “How have things been? I don’t think I’ve, uh… hung out with you much. This season.”
“Yeah. Not last season either.”
“Right. Yes.”
“Going about as well as a death game goes, I guess. You know I won last time.”
“I– I do. I do, actually,” he did– word had traveled, “Congrats, man.”
“Yeah, thanks,” said Martyn, who didn’t sound particularly congratulated. “It’s been an… interesting time, for sure.”
“Bad interesting? Or, like, neutral interesting? Lukewarm interes–?”
“One of those.”
Ren nodded.
“Right. Yeah.”
Again, he reached out to take Martyn’s hand. He hesitated again, now at the sight of a hand which was so clearly not his.
“It’s– I haven’t really…” Martyn sighed a heavy sigh, and looked around. “I haven’t told anyone this. But I mainly just miss… Ren.”
Ren took that as his cue to grab Martyn’s hand. He reciprocated immediately, grip strong enough to bruise.
“...Really?” Ren asked.
“Yeah. It’s felt all wrong, without him here,” Martyn said. Ren… didn’t know if he’d ever heard him so earnest. “But, it’s also– ugh.”
Martyn groaned. Ren squeezed his hand.
“On the other hand, it’s… it’s really a good thing, right? That he got out. And so… if he somehow came back, I’d be kind of pissed. But also relieved. It’s stupid.”
Ren nodded.
“Well… if he did come back, I don’t think it would be by choice.”
Another long silence. Ren looked at him. He didn’t look at Ren.
“Right.”
They found themselves at the foot of a mountain. Martyn brought him up the stairs. Martyn seemed to be gripping his hand even tighter. It hurt, enough that Ren idly wondered if he’d take a tick of damage. But he didn’t say anything.
At the top sat a shack, decorated by what looked like a jolly dog. It startled a laugh out of Ren.
“You really did miss Ren, huh?” he joked. Martyn laughed a dry laugh.
“Hey, this one wasn’t me, to be fair. Well– I built the dog, but that wasn’t–”
Ren chuckled a bit. Although, he was starkly reminded that the people who were allegedly Martyn’s team mates had died, so. Not much.
“You want to go inside?” Ren suggested. Martyn nodded once and pulled him in.
It was… relatively cozy. There was a bed, and the build itself had a homelier vibe than some other bases he’d seen. Smack in the middle sat three chests, suspended in midair. Ren saw the way Martyn’s gaze lingered on them, and the signs up front labeling them “TIMMY” “MUMBO” and “MARTYN,” and he decided not to comment on it.
“It’s nice,” he offered. Martyn shrugged.
“It’s alright.”
Martyn stood in the middle of the room, quiet. After a moment, Ren went to sit on the bed and Martyn, having not relinquished his hand, followed.
Neither of them spoke. The house was dead silent. Ren still held Martyn’s hand.
Minutes passed. Martyn was visibly lost in his thoughts. Ren wasn’t sure what to do, and pondered that idly. Until his tiredness appeared to catch up with him. He hadn’t been in one of these in a long time, after all, and it was more taxing than Hermitcraft in just about every way.
It started with him hesitantly resting his head on Martyn’s shoulder. Martyn jumped. But then, he squeezed Ren’s hand and rested his own head on top. The intimacy made both of them take a deep breath.
Then, Ren began to genuinely doze off. He almost felt Martyn stiffen beside him, lift his head. But he definitely felt as he began nudging him in the side. He startled awake. Martyn was looking at him.
His smile was small, and warm, but tainted by something.
“You should head back,” he said. Ren furrowed his brow. He continued, “Else you’ll be really confused in the morning.”
Ren stared at him for a moment. For a long moment.
“You sure?” he asked.
“That you’ll be confused?” Martyn chuckled drily, “Yeah, pretty sure.”
“No, I meant–”
“Best to rip it off, isn’t it?” Martyn turned away from Ren, so Ren couldn’t see his face.
Ren was still.
“...Martyn.”
“That’s me.”
“I…” he started falteringly, “You know, I miss you too.”
Martyn turned to look at him again.
“I have no idea what you’re on about, Tango.”
Ren stared at him. Martyn’s deep red eyes were glassy.
Ren didn’t think too hard before he leaned up and kissed him. Martyn froze, a whole body thing. Ren could feel the moisture of a tear falling down one cheek.
Ren pulled away after a moment, and found his own eyes misty as well. He blinked some.
“...I guess I should go,” he said, when Martyn said nothing. Martyn nodded. That distant sort of look was back.
“Yeah,” he said. “Maybe for the best.”
Martyn, for the first time, released Ren’s hand. Ren took this as his cue to stand. He didn’t feel steady on his feet.
He walked to the door, all too aware of his footsteps– the thud of Tango’s boots against dry terracotta– being the only sound. He could feel the red gaze on his back.
“Um…” he lingered at the door. “Martyn. Ren really cares about you.”
He heard Martyn scoff a laugh.
“Yeah?” Ren nodded. Martyn hummed “Alright. Let him know I care about him too.”
“I’m pretty sure he knows.”
“I’m not the most subtle, am I?”
“You have your moments.”
“Aw, thanks.”
Somehow, despite it all, a small smile found its way on Ren’s face.
“Maybe I’ll see you around more soon,” he suggested.
“No,” said Martyn’s voice, suddenly severe, “I’d hope not.”
Ren’s smile fell. He nodded.
“Fair enough.”
Another long, long moment of silence passed.
Then, Ren stepped outside, and shut the door behind him.