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2026-02-04
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a blossom in midwinter

Summary:

After a League meeting in Nasha Town, Illuga ends up tipsy at the Flagship, lamenting the absence of a certain Lightkeeper.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Illuga doesn't often find himself in Nasha Town, let alone at the Flagship with a few drinks in him. However, after a League meeting, he'd been talked into chatting with a few other members, and one thing led to another…

Actually, Illuga may have indeed played too many rounds of roulette with Miss Nefer and company. Illuga had joined the roulette in hopes of learning more about other League members, which he did succeed at, though… he's definitely feeling a buzz.

Once the game has ended — which, might he add, others are stumbling away from, far worse for wear than Illuga himself — he heads over to a table on his own.

What a shame Sir Flins isn't here, he thinks as he sits down, setting his drink down and looking at the empty space across from him. The thought almost surprises him, coming seemingly out of nowhere, save for the fact that Flins is on Illuga's mind far more than he would like to admit. The booze certainly isn't helping.

Illuga sets his head down on his arms and lets out a long sigh. He's doomed — he has reached a fate like so many others, a longing for someone so close and yet… just out of reach. Even when it comes to Flins, who carries with him an air of mystery that the average person finds themself drawn to, Illuga's certain he's not the first to have fallen off the deep end.

While Illuga doesn't find Flins particularly mysterious anymore, he is drawn to other aspects of him: he is curious and well-spoken, dedicated to the Lightkeepers' cause, and at times, he can be quite… silly and endearing.

Yes, Flins' penchant for teasing Illuga drives him up the wall, but as long as Flins is smiling, happy as a damn clam at the simple idea of Illuga being flustered or frustrated, well… Illuga wouldn't have it another way.

"Goddammit," Illuga groans into his arms, shaking his head. He is so whipped.

"My, my, whatever could cause such a pitiful sound?"

Illuga swings his head up to be met with Flins standing besides the table.

"Sir Flins!" he exclaims in surprise, feeling his heart flutter wildly in his chest. In an attempt to portray normalcy, he asks in a steady voice, "What brings you to the Flagship?"

Flins smiles, easily slipping into the seat across the table from Illuga. "I was meeting with a seller when I crossed paths with Miss Nefer," he says, setting his drink down on the table. "She had mentioned that there was a lonely soul at the Flagship, seemingly awaiting company."

Illuga suppresses another groan. For all the teasing that Flins likes to do, Nefer certainly gives him a run for his money. Perhaps Illuga should be thanking her, given his recent lamentation of Flins not being around, but now that he's here, Illuga kind of wants to disappear into thin air. He takes a long swig from his cup.

Flins yellow eyes settle on Illuga, his tongue darting out to wet his lips before he brings his own cup to his mouth, taking a languid sip. Illuga tears his gaze away, suddenly interested in the wood grain of the table, which shifts slightly as he looks at it. Hm.

"What is on your mind, Young Master Illuga?" Flins inquires, tracing around the rim of his cup with a slender finger.

Illuga shakes his head. "It's nothing," he says, gaze flickering up and back down.

"My apologies for intruding, but you seem out of sorts."

"I've just had a bit to drink," Illuga admits the half-truth.

"Would you like some water? I would gladly—"

"No," Illuga answers quickly. "Thank you, Sir Flins, but I am quite alright."

Flins laughs a little — a sweet thing, like a flower blooming beneath the moonlight. Illuga lifts his gaze again to meet Flins' and holds it steady for a beat. Flins is so… he's so

Illuga allows himself to scan over Flins' face, his eyes decorated with tired eye bags that only add to his charm, his eyelashes dusting over his cheeks when he blinks, his lips pulling into a smooth grin.

Illuga could curse at him. Without thinking, he says, "You are so pretty that it's actually unfair. I'm enraged."

Flins eyes widen for a split-second before he laughs and says, "Are you certain you wouldn't like some water?"

As his words catch up to him, Illuga feels a hot flush spread across his face and to the tips of his ears. "Don't laugh," he says, taking another long swig from his drink, an attempt to smother out the heat and hide his face.

"My sincerest apologies, Young Master," Flins says, reaching a hand across the table to grasp Illuga's free hand. "It was shock more than anything. You are quite free with your words after a few drinks, it seems."

Flins' hand is warm against Illuga's, even through their gloves. Selfishly, perhaps, Illuga lets their hands linger together.

"Might I add that there is no reason to be enraged?" Flins asks, tilting his head and still smiling so sweetly. "Your beauty transcends my own tenfold or more."

"Flins, please don't toy with me," Illuga responds, his throat tight and heart hammering. "There is no need for flattery."

"You are mistaken, dear Illuga," Flins says, pulling his hand back as he finishes off his drink. He slides out of the seat and stands beside the table, offering his hand once again to Illuga.

Illuga blinks up at him. "And how am I mistaken? There is no world in which what you said could possibly be true."

Flins beckons Illuga with the curl of his fingers. "Come, now. Let's go for a walk."

Illuga sighs as he takes Flins' hand, standing from the table. He downs the final dredges of his drink and stumbles slightly to the bar, where he pays his tab and then meets Flins at the door.

Flins holds the door open for him, as chivalrous as ever, and the chilled night air bites at Illuga's cheeks as he steps outside.

"This way," Flins says as they walk beneath Nasha Town's buzzing streetlamps and business signs, towards the edge of town. "Do you have a room at the Flagship tonight, Young Master?"

"I do," Illuga responds. He had paid for a room before the game of roulette with Miss Nefer, having heard tale of the information broker's game and in what state it leaves people.

"Then I won't take you far," Flins says, "Though, I am relieved to hear that you have no designs to trek to Piramida in this state."

Now Illuga asks, "Are you staying at the Flagship?"

Flins chuckles, "In fact, I am less prepared than you, it seems. I planned to head back to the cemetery tonight."

Illuga hears his own pulse in his ears as he says, "You can stay with me." Flins' eyebrows raise slightly at his statement, and Illuga scrambles to clarify, "You've had some to drink, and I'd hate for anything to happen to you. So please…"

"If it puts you at ease, then it will be my pleasure," Flins replies. "Of course, if you aren't too enraged at me to share a room."

Illuga blushes again, but says, "Enraged or not, I still want you safe."

They fall into a lull in conversation, then, though Illuga notices the slight upward quirk to the corner of Flins' mouth. The moon shines brightly over them as they tread a path on the outskirts of Nasha Town, the plants infused with kuuvahki glowing and swaying in the wind.

Then, Flins pauses in his tracks and says, "The Flagship serves its own purpose, but I believe the moonlight lends itself more to what I am aching to say to you, dear Master Illuga."

Illuga stops a pace further than Flins and turns around to look back at him. "Flins?"

Flins hesitates, reaching a hand out for Illuga but then lowering it again to his side. "Forgive me, I don't usually — well, I believe I'm feeling…"

"…Nervous?" Illuga supplies (mostly projecting, if he's being honest).

"Heh. I suppose, yes." Flins laughs, but continues, "Illuga, allow me to tell you how beautiful you are. You are light itself, shining so brightly that, at times, it can hurt to look."

Anything Illuga had to say shrivels on his tongue at Flins' words.

"Your blazing determination, your wondrous mind, your skin littered with battle scars… You are precious and you are beautiful, more-so than any gem. Please, do not misconstrue my words, as I mean them sincerely. It is not mere flattery, and I am not trying to—"

"Flins, I—" Illuga interrupts, but begins to choke on his words. "I am not— I don't deserve any of this."

"You are more than deserving of affection and praise, Young Master," Flins states gently, now reaching out his hand with more confidence, using it to tilt Illuga's face upwards to look at him.

Illuga can't help it but to melt at Flins' touch. "Flins," he says, and though the alcohol is still buzzing through his system, he manages to suppress what he truly wants to say in favor of, "Thank you."

"Of course," Flins responds, his hand moving to cup the side of Illuga's face. "I have been thinking of you often, Master Illuga. Indeed, more often than one thinks of a… coworker."

Now, Illuga laughs. "Are we not friends?"

"I consider you a dear friend," Flins answers quickly, "But there is… well, perhaps now is not the time."

Illuga looks up at Flins with big eyes. "What is it? You can't just leave it at that."

Flins opens his mouth as if to continue, but apparently thinks better of it. "Let's get back to the Flagship."

"Flins!"

At the Flagship, Illuga obliges to drinking the water Flins fetches for him. It is as they open the door to Illuga's room that Illuga realizes it, though: "Flins, I only got a room with one bed."

Flins' eyes flicker across the room. "There is a couch."

"You're not sleeping on that couch," Illuga argues, "It's way too small for you. I'll take it."

Illuga shrugs out of his coat, draping it on the back of a chair. Flins watches him intently before saying, "You paid for the room, Young Master. The bed is yours."

Illuga groans, leaning down to take off his boots. "Let's just share it, if you're going to be so stubborn." He manages to say it a lot more smoothly than he feels about such a thing. He's shared beds with other Ratniki before, but Flins — he's not sure he's ever actually seen Flins sleep. It occurs to him that it may be another of Flins'… non-human idiosyncrasies.

So it is all the more surprising when Flins removes his own coat and actually does clamber into the bed, lifting the blanket for Illuga to join him. Illuga does so — the bed is small, only meant for a single person, so immediately upon climbing into it, their bodies press together, Flins' chest to Illuga's back.

Illuga suddenly thinks this may have been a very bad idea. Then, Flins loops an arm around Illuga's waist and presses his face into Illuga's hair, and Illuga — perhaps still tipsy — can't find it in himself to care.

Flins — who teases him and leaves him on cliffhangers, who enrages him with his flippancy for his own life, who is so utterly and blindingly beautiful — is holding him so close, and is so warm, it feels almost like a dream.

Except Illuga's dreams are usually not so pleasant. The Wild Hunt haunts his resting self just as it does his wakeful one, but even so, sleep finds him tonight in Flins' arms. He wakes a few times in the night from his nightmares, but Flins' warmth and gentle touch lull him back to sleep each time.

When they wake to the dawn slanting in through the windows, Illuga rolls over to face Flins in the bed. He has an inkling of a headache, but he's still young and drank some water (at Flins' behest), so the hangover is minimal. What's truly on his mind, though, is the night prior — Flins leaving Illuga to wonder just what it was he had wanted to say on the outskirts of Nasha Town.

Surely, Illuga is sober enough to hear it now. He lifts a hand to poke the tip of Flins' nose, which causes Flins to scrunch his face and then blink against the light of day.

"Good morning," Illuga says, willing that Flins can't feel his quickened pulse in their proximity.

"Good morning," Flins replies, blinking slowly at Illuga. "I trust you weren't too uncomfortable in the night?"

Illuga lets out a breath. "I wasn't uncomfortable. I've definitely slept worse." He pauses for a moment, drinking in Flins' groggy appearance, before he says, "About last night—"

Flins smiles, amused. "I wasn't certain how much you would remember, Young Master. I believe Miss Nefer's game may have done a number on you."

Illuga huffs, "It wasn't that bad. I certainly remember our walk out of Nasha Town."

"Ah," Flins breathes, "Yes, I'd hoped so. I meant everything that I said to you."

Illuga — despite his wants to pry whatever Flins had been about to say right out of him — sits up in the bed and bites at the inside of his lip. Flins thinks he's beautiful, and that had been too much to truly take in last night. Even now, Illuga feels heat rising to his face at the thought.

"I have to be back to Piramida today to report on the League meeting," Illuga says, an attempt to dispel the heat. "I can accompany you to the cemetery, if you would like?"

"I would like that," Flins responds with a small smile. "But, do you need to leave immediately?"

Illuga thinks for a moment. "It won't take all day to get to Piramida," he says, "Do you have something in mind?"

Flins' tongue darts out to wet his lips. "I am partial to slow mornings," he says, "if you would allow me to bask in this warmth for a little longer."

Illuga melts a little. "Okay," he says, allowing himself to settle back into the bed. Flins brushes some hair out of Illuga's face, and Illuga bites at the inside of his lip.

"Sir Flins, you were going to say something last night," he says, not able to withhold his curiosity (nor longing) for any longer. "About us being friends."

Flins chuckles. "You can be quite impatient, Young Master."

Illuga doesn't bother with a response, just waiting for Flins to continue.

Which, he does: "As I said, I consider you a dear friend," he says, "but it would be foolish of me to deny that my admiration for you, my care for you, my feelings towards you… mean something else."

Illuga stares at him, pulse racing.

"Young Master Illuga, I adore you," Flins confesses, lifting a hand to hold Illuga's face. "I suspect that you already knew."

Now, Illuga scrambles for words. "I couldn't possibly entertain the idea—"

"You ought to have more confidence in yourself. Why would I not love you, Illuga?"

Illuga's world spins worse than it had last night, Flins' hand on his face the only thing grounding him.

"I adore you," Flins repeats.

Illuga has been a fool. He believed Flins out of reach, when Flins has consistently placed himself right into Illuga's grasp. Still, if the best time to come to such a realization was yesterday, then the second best is today, right now, in Flins' arms.

Illuga surges forward to catch Flins' lips with his own, his hand coming to rake through Flins' hair. His heart feels like it could burst, his pulse so loud in his ears. For a brief moment, he doesn't care about anything but Flins against him, Flins' hands roaming over Illuga's clothes, Flins' lips warm, warm, warm.

When they part, Illuga says, "I adore you, Flins."

Flins smiles, so soft and so sweet, and pulls Illuga back towards him into another kiss. With some clarity amidst it all, Illuga thinks that he has ought to thank Nefer.

Notes:

thank u illuga for coming home <3
now kiss ur bf mwah mwah