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The cold, harsh air was far from what Cypher was used to. The warmth of the decorations the protocol was rushing to set up, however, was not. Everybody in the protocol loved the holiday season. Even if Viper made a show to roll her eyes any time a Christmas song came on the radio, he still saw the way she would carefully wrap up the gifts she got for people. Similarly, Yoru would scoff at the handmade ornaments they all made every year. Still, there would always be one extra hanging on the tree before the night was over. Of course, they all knew he was aware of their hidden sentimentality and they would glare at the knowing smile he would give them.
These weeks were certainly some of his favorites. Everyone was finding excuses to be cheerful. They'd take breaks from the stress of the missions, which also came less, during the holidays, he thought, considering the idea that their selves on earth two were also busy with festivities. He always found a laugh, seeing the young ones sneaking off without each other, just to come back with hands full of boxes. He also appreciated just how much work they always put into the annual christmas party, and that time had finally come around.
He walked into the common room, heading towards the kitchen so he could make his morning tea, only to be met with chaos. He nearly knocked right into Reyna, as she meticulously strung up Christmas lights on the tree, cursing any time one of them was knocked loose. He carefully shuffled around her, not wanting to see just how irritated she was. In the kitchen he nodded to Jett who was seasoning a turkey. Sage stood next to her, asking the occasional question about how exactly she was supposed to make the stuffing. It was rare to see those two cheerful together. Typically at this point, Jett would have slipped on an ice patch outside, and come in insisting that she was dying and needed to be healed. Sage would have rolled her eyes and found a professional way of saying “Get lost”, and then the two would spend the rest of the night bickering back and forth.
Trying to stay out of their way, he reached into his cupboard above the fridge, only to realize that his box of tea was gone. None of these kids listened to him, he’d have to check the cameras to see who he needed to bill for it this time. He spun around, trying to head back to his room, only to realize his path was now obstructed by Skye, reaching up to hang a small piece of mistletoe in the walkway.
“Ay Cypher, I'll be out of the way in one moment,” Skye said, strained as she stretched up.
This was far from his favorite holiday tradition. In concept, it was a cute idea. It would create cutesy moments for young lovers, and it would also cause a great deal of humiliation for those who didn’t…appreciate their loved ones that much, he laughed, remembering the video he had somewhere of Phoenix and Gekko from last year, the two made such a big issue about it that people started asking if they were hiding something. However, funny as that was, somewhere along the line, the younger agents came to realize that he stood as far away from that plant as he possibly could.
Kids were getting more observant, they were going to put him out of his job, he thought. The running theory was just that he was just private, and it would be “emotionally compromising,” and say too much about his secret life. This wasn’t really a bad idea, and he let them run with it. He remembered a conversation he caught in the halls as Clove and Neon were packing for a mission.
“I mean, it's crazy! The rest of us have all ended up there before. Why’dya think he hasn't?”
Neon cocked her head, looking off for a moment before shaking her head.
“...It's Cypher, what can you expect? He's always super careful about these things.” she laughed “And it is his job to be sneaky. I’d bet he’s snuck out of some seriously awkward encounters before.”
“Bah! Careful my arse, nobody ever expects it and then POOF! They just appear out of nowhere and getcha!” They followed this by grabbing Neon and shaking her a little bit.
As funny as the conversation had been, it did cause Cypher the smallest bit of concern. He made sure to look around before he walked under it, wishing to avoid anybody jumping out and attacking his lips, as Clove seemed to think it happened. Neon gave him far too much credit, he was sneaky but any time someone passed under that thing, all eyes locked on. He made a conscious effort to not give out too much personal information, and kissing someone was pretty personal. To him, at least. There hadn’t been many he had taken interest in since Nora. He had been pretty consumed in his work and personal hobbies. As sat down in his room, he considered the idea more. Would he actually go through with it if anybody did catch him off guard? He had a hard time thinking of anybody he wouldn’t just outright run away from. Ultimately deciding in almost all cases he’d simply hole up in here until people forgot about the incident without him there to remind them of it for blackmail. Almost all, however, was not every. Every time he opened his drawer, he was met with the book Omen gifted him, and he certainly couldn’t deny that he searched for reasons to grab his hand. It was like the few others he had spoken to, and when they knew too much about him, he’d simply disappear. Disappearing was a lot harder when you both work and live with the problem though, so he came to accept it. He would make the occasional on brand flirty comment, Omen would huff a laugh at him, then they’d go back to working next to each other. Killjoy had commented on it once, pointing out how neither of them ever wanted to work around anybody else, but how they always seemed so content. This was followed up with her accusatorily asking if they were hiding something from her, and he wasn’t entirely sure how to reply. They’d never really talked about their relationship, but Omen never seemed unhappy with anything either, and he was the first to talk if he was upset. Cypher leaned back in his chair, hand on his chin as he stared at the ceiling.
What were they?
__________
Knowing everything about everybody made Cypher an excellent gift giver. He would review everything his fellow agents wanted, then sit down with Brimstone, claiming to need the money for his own personal equipment. Then he would order everything, wrap it, and leave it unlabeled under the tree. He considered himself to be the Valorant Santa Clause. He eye’d what he left under the tree, which was perfectly put together, courtesy of Reyna’s neurotic light hanging behavior. Everybody was already chit chatting with each other, and he saw that they pulled out the folding table. It was a simple, plastic one that was elegantly decorated with lots of beautiful food and unnecessary decorations. He walked up to Viper, who despite all of her complaining, could still be found in the classiest ugly Christmas sweater he had ever seen.
“They’re playing your favorite song,” He said, leaning next to her on the wall. as jingle bell rock blasted in the background.
This earned him an eye roll paired with an irritated scoff “This is the worst one you could say that to.”
“Ah, so what you’re implying is that there is a best one?”
“How well do you think you’d be able to see through your cameras if I tore you apart like a Christmas present?”
He took three swift steps away from her. “Come on, Sabine, enjoy the season just a little bit!” He said, before quickly running away before she could grab him.
Messing with her was really one of the greatest parts of these gatherings. He wondered where Killjoy was. Typically she’d dress her bots up in little Santa hats and station them around, however after the incident last year, it smelled like burnt hair for weeks in the common room and she was told they couldn’t come to the party. He wondered if she was intentionally avoiding the party this year because of that. Then, he saw her in the kitchen talking with Raze. This was definitely the best chance he had to go bug the two of them, and seeing his opportunity, he began to walk, making absolutely sure there wasn’t anybody there. Cautiously observing the area as secretively as he could. Just because people knew he was avoiding the plant every year didn't mean he wanted to make it any more obvious. And once he knew the coast was clear, he walked through. As if on cue, he heard a familiar whooshing sound as his foot passed the threshold. Smoke scattered around and pulled in as he tried to back up, however it was too late. Cypher looked at Omen who now stood in front of him, briefly considering if this was his payment for harassing Viper. Did she call him here? Out of the corner of his eye he saw Killjoy give him a look, and then look away with a smile on her face.
“Cypher,” Omen said, extending out a small,messily wrapped box. Did he not understand the predicament they had been put in? “I got you a present,”
No, he didn’t realize. That caused some indescribable feeling-- no, a feeling he was choosing not to describe. That was far more accurate. Acknowledging it with the man right in front of him was a tad bit harder.
Omen cocked his head, the slits on his face narrowing, to which Cypher glanced up, and then back to Omen. Of course, this would be the year, the year people were waiting for it. He wouldn’t really be complaining if he didn’t feel like everyone was looking at him. He took a step closer, preparing for his inevitable death which he recognized as a tad bit over dramatic, but it still felt appropriate. What if somebody recorded them? How was he supposed to hold embarrassing moments above everybody’s heads if they had proof that he kissed someone?
Omen looked up, humming as he noted their predicament. How did he feel about this? Cypher knew everything, but he couldn’t read minds, and that was his biggest flaw. He felt him grab his hand and he almost jumped. This was it, he thought, closing his eyes as he prepared for the smokey smooch he was about to receive. But instead, he felt the box be placed into his hands.
“Absolutely not.” He said, before turning around, and walking away.
For a moment, Cypher stood there, entirely baffled. The words rang through his head, box still in hand though entirely forgotten. Absolutely not, he held in an angry noise, as well as mocking words. He didn’t even really want to kiss him anyways, especially not now. Frustration took over his mind quickly, as he stood there in the kitchen, seething. He looked around, realizing that nobody was looking at him, He shook his head, remaining wide eyed and irritated. He was so stressed–So painfully worried over nothing.
He looked at the box, finally realizing its presence. It was poorly wrapped in plain red paper. How could he grab his hand like that and then just leave? Cypher took a deep breath, rejection ate at him from the inside. He walked further into the kitchen, standing next to Killjoy who seemed to have gotten distracted or possibly chose to ignore the whole ordeal. He preferred it this way, it was better that nobody witnessed him being utterly embarrassed.
He looked at her, noticing the way she was muttering and fumbling with something, and who missed out on an opportunity to push their problems to the side. He was brilliant, he knew how to read others almost perfectly...almost perfectly. He still couldn't read minds.
"Hello, little engineer," He said, pushing the bitter taste he had far back. She whipped her head over to him, covering the bot she had in her hands up with a dish cloth as if it really hid anything.
"Cypher! I figured you'd run away after your encounter!" She tilted her head to look behind him, "Where did Raze run off to, we were just about to–"
"I thought they told you not to bring the bots this year?"
To this, Killjoy laughed with a wave of her hand, "Please, they don't really care, nobody has even said anything to me!"
"This is why you are hiding them in the sink with a washcloth, right?"
She stammered out a couple of excuses, as he raised an eyebrow and nodded to each of them. The bots being here didn't matter to him, they were her babies after all. Teasing was the best distraction though, and it was funny to watch her clutch them as if he was trying to actively rip them from her grasp.
"If you tell Brim, then I'll tell Jett that you got jumped tonight!" Was the threat she ultimately settled on. He wondered if that would be better or worse than the actual course of events, not like he was going to tell Brim anything, but…He glanced over to the sink, seeing how the bot scuttled around, trying to make sense of the towel on top of it. Yeah, somebody was finding out.
“Why do all of you make it sound so threatening? I wasn’t jumped,”
She looked around before giving him a look like she knew something.
“Does that mean you enjoyed it?”
He fought his own urge to stammer out excuses, remembering just how ridiculous she sounded when she did that. Instead he took a deep breath, opting that truth was his best escape here.
“We’re both far too old for such a childish thing, that plant was put there to help all you kids find love.” Okay maybe the truth was better when it was bent a little bit, she didn’t have to know every-
“I think my turret has displayed more maturity than you two. You dance around each other more than Yoru does to Skye. No, what really happened?” She leaned in, suspicious.
He cursed this girl’s intuition, though it was what got her hired in the first place. Still, it would be his downfall one of these days. He became painfully aware of the sound his mask made when he blinked as he awkwardly tried to find an excuse.
Gasping dramatically as she pulled back, “Did you get ignored?” she asked, hand clasped to her mouth. “You did! Oh how tragic, I hope he still comes to the lab. He gave me a sweater for my alarm bot once you know.”
That was certainly one of the things she could've said, he considered saying. She was never good at this though and he tried to fight his general irritation.
“That is your way of relating to me, I believe?” Is what he said instead. Though it didn't seem to go any better, as all she did was roll her eyes.
“Cypher, you don't really need to be so worried. This isn’t the end of anything, and I'm sure if you just talk to him you can make up and kiss.”
Ah, that was…Cypher wished he was that idealistic. He quietly laughed, shaking his head at the insanely ridiculous idea. Talking would require him to be personal, and personal was a bit out of his usual routine. He wanted to argue with her, but as he went to talk Raze called for her, waving her away.
“I'm serious, talk with him.” She said before turning.
That just wasn't happening. “I will consider it. Your help is appreciated, Killjoy.”
Really, when did she start catching up to him?
______
The protocol all progressed further into the night, ultimately leaving Cypher behind at the beginning. He was used to staying back on missions, that was easy. Slowly pick people off from behind, get what they needed, and wait for his team to handle the rest. This was far from that. He wanted nothing more than to enjoy the party, irritate his co-workers, and leave them ultimately disappointed another year when he wasn’t surprised by anything. All of this was completely ruined by the only person he actually cared about. He was upset, selfishly upset with Omen, and a lot more frustratingly upset with himself. His entire job was to read people, to look at them, and find out their fears, their weaknesses, all of it. The moment it pertained to him though, apparently he became foolish, looking for what he wanted instead of what was obvious and then freezing up like some kind of small child.
So he sat in a chair, staring at the Christmas tree while seething. Occasionally the urge to look around and see where Omen was came up. It’d be swiftly pushed away because his need for constant information didn’t outweigh how much he didn’t want to see that man. Showcasing his negative emotions was something he tried to avoid, but he wasn’t dense enough to not realize he was sulking in a chair sitting in front of a sparkly tree. It was like a black and white contrast, and he wanted to be left alone but the picture he’d painted clearly did not show that, curse the kind hearted people who worked at this damned agency, he thought, only to immediately retract the thought when Viper came and sat down next to him.
“Wonderful to see you again, I take it your heart has finally grown three sizes?” unsurprisingly, she did not seem to appreciate the comment, jabbing him in the rib with her inconveniently long nails as she drew a long sip of her coffee.
“They sent me over here to ask why you’re moping. It’s bringing down the mood of the party.”
“Never in my life did I expect you to be the one telling me to quit being a “buzzkill”.”
She narrowed her eyes and stared at him, “It seems like you’ve not expected a lot of things recently. Are you having job troubles, Amir?”
He was certain if he turned around he’d find Killjoy sobbing over her bots being confiscated, as if this was at all his fault. He did suppose he deserved her use of his name though after their prior meeting.
“This is why I strongly suggest not getting personal with these people,” she added as he continued to sulk in his poorly masked irritation that she seemed intent on feeding. “It’s only going to cause problems. So go get wasted like anyone else would, and stop hoarding the couch for your…” she gestured at him vaguely before shoving him up.
Cypher had a lot of choice words he would say to her if she wasn’t kind of his boss. Viper couldn’t really fire him of course, though having her as an enemy would be far from advantageous. So, he listened. Deciding to go grab a drink, he passed underneath the mistletoe again, deciding that if anyone else was there he’d simply do what was normal which was insult them and then run away to sit in a corner and watch them reconcile it. He poured himself a bourbon. In a pint glass. Taking a drink, he noticed the box was still sitting on the counter where he had forgotten it. It was probably another wonderfully knitted sweater that he'd simply never be able to wear, lest he wanted to give away his identity.
Omen made him a lot of things. A lot of things that felt very personal. Often he would wonder if he'd found the time to teleport into the office and find his actual file, or if he simply paid that much attention to him. He sipped at his glass, standing in the corner to avoid anyone seeing him with his mask up. They were two people who knew an incredible amount about each other's interests, at least when you compared it to anybody else. Surely Omen knew Cypher liked his company more so than the others, yes? He was forgetful and quiet but he seemed receptive. Agh, what to do? He tapped his foot against the kitchen tile. Viper wanted him to get wasted, Killjoy wanted him to just go lay it out with him, none of the agents were capable of helping him because they simply didn't know anything. It was the curse of being a private man. Omen was too, he held many secrets, many things Cypher could know if he wanted to. He could know the exact way into his smoke covered heart, but it wouldn't matter if he knew what he wanted because he still could not know what he was thinking. He wanted to leave this party, the music was quieting and the food was picked clean, much like his pride. He was an excellent informant but knowledge would never be the thing to save him.
______
He choked back the rest of his drink, feeling mildly embarrassed about the quantity. His entire body ached and he was filled with uncomfortable warmth. Whether it was from the drink, or the anger that remained, he really wasn't sure. So, despite his distaste for the cold, he still found himself outside, sitting on the balcony.
He had documented a plethora of incidents here. Jett falling off was always a highlight. Everyone freaked out until they remembered it was Jett. He leaned against the rail, realizing too late that he put his arms in snow, and now his sleeves would be soaked later. It was terrible, but it was better than suffocating to death inside. It was times like how he really wished he could take off the mask. Breathing the air made him feel better, but he wanted to be absorbed in it, awful as it was.
His thoughts were cut off by the sound of the balcony door. He wasn’t at the party anymore so they couldn’t rightfully be upset at him for moping. He rolled his eyes wondering if this was really the hill they chose to die on tonight. It wasn’t Viper sent to come make his night even worse though, no. Before he could even turn to face him, Omen occupied the space next to him, box in hand.
“You didn’t open it,” It was said more as a fact than anything with emotion, though Omen was harder to understand then he thought, so maybe he missed something.
“Observant,”
“Hm.”
Usually the silence between them was comfortable, he was okay with it. He loved to sit and work next to him because it compelled him to finish faster. Now, though, it just brought back the suffocating heat he felt inside. The issue wasn’t the party at all, it was him. It wasn’t like him to fight someone, but he really wanted to. He wanted to yell at him for making him vulnerable, he hadn’t been vulnerable in decades, not like this at least.
“I hate the cold,”
Omen was cold, he thought bitterly. He had been cold too, it was hard not to be after losing everybody.
“It was a long summer, you’ll get used to it.”
The picture that snow painted really was beautiful. It was untouched, nobody had knocked all of the icicles off of the trees yet, and he chose to focus on that instead of anything else, nothing else deserved it. And yet, it kept coming back to him.
“I worry that I’m losing it,”
Omen looked at him, head cocked. “Losing what?”
“People surely haven’t always been this hard to crack, yes?” He laughed, “I thought I had you figured out.”
“And you didn’t tell me about it?”
“Not like that,” Cypher couldn’t tell him any of that, he had to learn it alone. But… “I had been hoping-- no, that sounds, hmph,” He sighed, collecting his thoughts. He wasn’t used to being open like this. “I was prepared for you to,” he waved his hand, turning to face him as well.
“The mistletoe?” Omen asked,
“Yes, thank you.”
“Oh,”
Another beat of silence passed, Cypher tapped his fingers against the railing while he watched the way smoke puffed out next to him.
“I wasn’t aware we had that kind of relationship,” It was just as flat as the last time, but he did watch as Omen relaxed a bit next to him. “And I didn’t want to take that chance…”
How, what? The click of his eyes blinking was deafening outside. He scanned over every possible memory he had of them and he figured that it was made rather clear. Though, even he wasn't certain on his exact feelings, but still. What? Omen turned away from him, becoming suddenly fixated on some shrubbery, and Cypher realized that he was probably staring at him. He squeezed his fist, trying to stop the incessant tapping of his own fingers.
“You are one of two people I honestly,” when did he forget how to speak as well? “I honestly trust. And I have to trust Killjoy, it's a rule.”
This sparked a hum of laughter, but it really wasn’t a joke.
“You’re very reluctant about everything, and none of this holiday stuff gets any less confusing for me.” He cleared his throat, “I didn’t want either of us to end up in a vulnerable position like that and regret it. I didn’t mean to be that…harsh, I apologize for disrupting the party.”
“I’m sure I can manage until next year.”
They remained there until the cold began to get overwhelming. Cypher wasn’t exactly sure how Omen experienced temperature, but he was starting to freeze even underneath everything.
“It’s wonderful that we could clear this up, but I think I’m going to die if I stay out here.”
Omen perked up like he wanted to talk, and Cypher paused, waiting with his hand on the door handle. Then, with a blur behind him, Omen moved his hands over to his face, pulling him in with a surprised “Oh,”. It was short, and not particularly smooth, all things considered with the mask and Omen’s lack of lips, but he still pulled away starstruck. His hands rested on Omen’s arms as he stared at him, wide eyed.
He cleared his throat as well as blinked a few times before his eyes froze over, though suddenly he really didn’t feel that cold again. “I ah- I see.”
“Hm,” Omen looked away, but he remained in place. “It’s been a while,”
“Yes, it has been.”
“Was it that obvious?”
“Ah- What? No, I meant-” He stammered through an explanation, but he didn’t want to take the chance of looking away, convinced that if he did, Omen would disappear. But he didn’t, he sat there, looking around, but ultimately letting his gaze linger. And maybe when it was like this, he didn’t have to be able to see his thoughts to understand how he felt. Because he didn’t need some odd tradition to kiss him, he simply had to know that it was what he wanted.