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The LED eyes of Cypher's mask were glowing blue, all too similar to Sova's prosthetic as they sat across each other. And although Cypher seemed to be focused on the chess board between them, he was staring at the hunter just as much as the man was staring at him. The way his eyebrows pulled together slightly more than usual, the way he squinted a little and didn't even seem to notice the strand of hair which fell over his forehead… Such focus on the hunter's face could only ever be noticed in two situations. When he was hunting or when he was looking at Cypher. And the spy loved to humour his curiosity, letting his lips twitch into a smile behind the mask, wondering if Sova caught that barely visible detail through the black fabric. And he always felt like the man did.
“The eyes of your mask, Cypher, are very similar to my prosthetic,” the blonde finally spoke and Cypher's smile widened. It was another one of the man's hidden questions, which he deep down already knew the answer to. This time the question was more of a statement, which sounded more or less: ‘You made my eye, didn't you?’
“It was easier to reuse the blueprints. Besides, the blue fits you,” he answered calmly, moving a rook on the board. Sova sighed, with either frustration, resignation or pity for himself. Another one of the secrets Cypher had kept from him was unraveled, and his feelings about that were just as mixed as every time it happened.
“I should have known earlier,” he murmured, pushing a pawn forward. Cypher hummed at that, as if he was analyzing the conversation as much as the chess game, with the same admirance and satisfaction with his opponent.
“But you did, correct?” he humoured and Sova left him with no answer.
Sometimes he thought the hunter only refrained from pointing out Cypher's little hidden truths out of fear of seeming paranoid or silly. Or maybe it was because every one of these situations left the Moroccan feeling slightly nervous, anxious, due to the deal they made. No, they both knew it was only fair and there was no point in pitying the other.
“Your move,” the hunter pointed out, and it was clear he didn't mean their chess duel. Still, Cypher took his turn on the board first, before actually satisfying Sova's request.
“We really used to have the same eyes,” he spoke, keeping their conversation in that same specific tone, their little bubble of secrets and cryptics. Sova deciphered the words in a second, and he leaned in just a bit closer, as if trying to somehow see through Cypher's mask.
“I wish I could see them.” This time Sova made no move on the chess board, abandoning it in order to focus on the man in front of him fully.
Cypher sighed softly, leaning back in his chair a bit, as he understood their game of chess was done. He looked away, and yet he still felt the blonde staring.
“I know Sasha,” He replied, the man's name falling from his mouth so dearly, apologetically.
“And you will but not today.” Cypher tugged at the edge of his mask uncomfortably. At that, Sova brushed the loose strands of his hair back and just looked at the spy as if he was trying to see the man under that mask. He found himself doing that far too often recently.
“I'm sorry. I shouldn't push you,” Sova apologised, looking away. He didn't want to go back to his old habits and make it seem like he distrusted Cypher again. That wasn't the case at all.
The Moroccan chuckled lightly, though a hint of nervousness lingered in the raspy sound.
“Don't apologise, little Owl. I would have been hurt if you didn't want to see my face,” he spoke and although Sova seemed embarrassed by the nickname he also looked somewhat more at ease.
Silence fell between them, one that was a sort of comfort amidst all the things they were glad to not have to talk about at the moment. Sova continued looking at Cypher's mask, trying so hard to imagine the face underneath it. A new piece had just been added to his puzzle. Brown eyes, which he imagined with such a playful golden flicker in them, one he hoped hadn't been dimmed by all the hurt in the spy's life. His imagination seemed to thrive, soon adding full lips and a strongly defined, slim nose to the image. Dark, slightly neglected eyebrows and a light stubble the prickling of which he wished to feel against his cheek… And yet the image was incoherent, incomplete, like a rose put together out of a few crumpled poppy petals. And so the frown on Sova's face returned as the reality of the cold blue LED eyes staring at him was undeniable. Said eyes shifted slightly as the person behind them seemed hesitant for a moment, but also determined to do something to smoothen the furrow of Sova's brow.
“The new year's party is soon,” he started, very obviously nervous about doing so. He waited for a response before continuing.
“I know, Cypher. I still have to write my speech,” Sova remembered, which the spy thought was rather simple compared to the task which stood in front of him.
“I want to kiss you at midnight.”
The words fell from his lips a little too quickly, a little too quietly but lacking no determination. Sova's eyes first squinted slightly, then widened as the man took a sharp breath. He wasn't going to ask Cypher if he meant it, knowing the man wouldn't have said it otherwise. Still, soon after the first shock, a nearly overwhelming wave of pure happiness flooded him and he clenched his fists to contain the will to just sweep his partner off his feet and twirl around the room with him.
“I would like that a lot, Amir. Thank you.”
A soft sigh from the Moroccan followed and Sova finally let that smile slip on his lips. Cypher chuckled, as seeing the Russian smile always put him in the best mood of all possible, and the tension seemed to be gone in an instant.
“You're very well mannered, my measured friend.”
“So are you, giving me this much time to prepare,” Sova said as both enjoyed the banter. “I should get a new suit for the occasion, no?”
“No, I quite like the blue one,” Cypher stated, making his lover's smile widen. The black mask stretched slightly over Cypher's equally happy expression, which could never escape the hunter's attention.
‘I love seeing you happy,’ he wanted to say but he let that thought stay in his mind. He didn’t like coming off as too perceptive of Cypher. He knew the man appreciated his privacy and was involuntarily wary of everyone, even Sova. So he kept the thought to himself, and just looked at the man as dearly as he held him in his heart.
The promise of Cypher revealing his face required a lot of trust. Almost too much, the spy thought. It shouldn't be that big of a deal for his partner to see his face. The thought shouldn't make his skin crawl but rather make him happy. And yet the premise of anyone seeing him filled him with such dread.
There were many aspects to it.
The matter of his safety, the reason why he put the mask on in the first place.
The unplaced fear of being seen he developed, and which he was slowly but surely fighting with Sova.
The insecurity he'd never admit to as to not seem shallow.
That feeling of detachment that made him question his identity. Was that face even his anymore? Was he still Amir, or did Cypher consume that part of him? The frequent dreams where his mask melted with his skin, choking him as he tried to rip it off, even if it meant skinning himself alive, were far too vivid. He could almost still feel the wires of blue LED lights digging into his eye sockets, scratching under his eyelids. Hours of staring into the mirror couldn't make this face seem any more like it belonged to him.
And then there was the shame. The man under the mask was weak. He was a man who couldn't protect his family. He was the one who ran and hid. Amir was everything Sova had thought of him months ago. A coward and snake.
And yet still, the hunter seemed nothing short of overjoyed by the news that he'll finally get to see his partner, to kiss him, to do this right. He wouldn't expect anything bad from Cypher. There was a time when he thought the spy was all things bad but that was the past, which he was quite ashamed of now. The way he had behaved towards the man he now admired endlessly was unacceptable.
He even punched Cypher once. Well, a little more than punched. It was all in a fit of anger and frustration, when The Blackmailer was at large and Sova was desperately trying to make sense of the situation. He was so sure it was Cypher who decided to mess with them and one of the man's dark jokes that day ticked him off… Punches flew and he only stopped when the spy pinned him to the ground with a gun pressed right between his eyes. All because at some point in the fight his fingers slipped under Cypher's mask…
“If you think I'm a traitor tell me why won't I kill you right now.” Cypher asked him that day. Sova remembered his answer, remembered and regretted it.
“You'd have to run.”
He recalled how Cypher's face had twisted, how he had thrown his gun on the ground and shoved his mask up just a bit to reveal a part of his neck, along with a small tattoo of a specific geometrical shape, something like a logo.
“If I ever run from you. Find me,” He had said, his voice trembling with disdain.
After that mission he hadn't seen the spy for a few weeks. He now knew Cypher had locked himself away, panicking, contemplating leaving, cursing himself for his own actions. All while Sova made tens of sketches of the tattoo, only to not be able to get it right at all. As if his usually great photographic memory decided to keep that slate clean for some reason.
So yes, their road was bumpy at first. But in the end, there was never hate and they always found themselves pulled to each other. Sova's distrust gradually turned into almost unhealthy curiosity, Cypher's cautious interest into admiration… With time they had realised that whenever everything around them was too stressful, they would turn to each other. Tired of worrying about work, they'd try to work the other out instead. Before they even realised it they'd become the other's comfort space of a sort, an escape. And sure, maybe it wasn't at any point rational when they ended up drunk on that balcony, confessing their biggest secrets. But it was them, it was real and that was all that mattered.
So when they made things official (between themselves only) they made a ground rule that for each secret they confront, another one will be revealed along it. It was their way to keep each other's trust, to learn to open up to each other.
Still, when the 31st of December finally came around, both men felt unusually nervous, as if they hadn’t been through far worse than a simple kiss. Sova’s usually perfectly steady and precise hands suddenly couldn’t braid his hair properly and Cypher stared at himself in the mirror for far too long, worrying about all sorts of things, from how his face was going to be revealed to whether his partner would mind how slightly chapped his lips were. The spy managed to nick himself with an electric razor while trying to give his beard an aesthetically looking trim for the first time in years and Sova scowled at himself in embarrassment, having gained some sort of clarity that shaving his private parts was a very stupid thing to do.
At half past 10 they were both ready in their suits, neatly groomed and only more stressed.
Sova stepped out of his room, feeling as though staying in it would drive him crazy. He didn’t even realise he had a deeply focused frown on his face as he walked through the corridors, repeating his speech in his mind. Despite what he told himself there was absolutely no need for him to arrive at the cafeteria early, considering his speech was planned after Brimstone’s and Sage’s.
Some of the younger agents under the commandment of Clove were setting up the food and liquor tables, having already decorated the whole place the previous day. Killjoy and Raze’s bots seemed to try to avoid serving their purpose as hard as possible, circling around the agents who were attempting to put glasses of champagne on the trays the robotic waiters were supposed to carry. Jett tried to dash after one of them and nearly stepped on Wingman who was ordered to move a speaker just to keep the creature occupied. There was a sort of chaos usual to the VP, one which meant things were going well.
Cypher joined Sova in the cafeteria a few minutes before the party was supposed to start, once all the youngsters left to get dressed. The lights hadn’t been dimmed yet and he found the blonde admiring the decorations. He stood right by him.
“They really outdid themselves. This looks much better than what they did for Christmas,” the spy commented, looking at his partner’s focused face instead of the decorations. He watched as he calmly stepped out of his own thoughts to respond. He assumed he was rehearsing the speech again.
“Was it that bad?” Sova asked, unsure whether he was thankful or mildly annoyed by the disruption.
“There were shattered glass ornaments fixed with hot glue on the Christmas tree.”
Sova let out a huff of laughter, before focusing on his own thoughts again. Cypher tilted his head, looking at the frown on the blonde's face.
“You look great, Sova. I’m sure you’ll do well on stage,” he reassured, but was met with a slightly surprised expression as the hunter turned to look at him. After all, the speech wasn’t his main concern, but rather a way to keep himself occupied.
“Thank you.”
Who set up the light to shine right into his eyes? Probably Phoenix, considering how often he blinded his teammates.
He tapped the microphone, looking as stoic as ever. Speeches were never his favourite, but he knew how to pick his words.
“Good evening friends. We're here tonight to celebrate another year spent together. For some of you it's the first one, for others the tenth. But it's a great achievement for all of us. This mission is never easy. We've all been through a lot. We've been hurt. We've died. But we fought for our world, for each other, and we survived. In all the suffering we managed to find friendship and love. That's what I wish to celebrate tonight, and what we must continue to protect.”
He looked over the faces of all his friends. Killjoy's hand tightened on Raze’s. Yoru stepped on Phoenix's foot so the man would stop elbowing him when Sova mentioned love. Sage was looking straight at the stage with a proud smile and Reyna looked right at Sage.
And in the back of the room, leaning against a wall was Cypher. His eyes were on Sova, glowing lightly and standing out to him in the dim room even amongst all those unique people. He knew Cypher could have watched in a way that he wouldn't have noticed instead but seeing him there made the seriousness melt away from Sova's face, replaced by a bright smile. Even from across the cafeteria he saw how the spy's chest shook gently with a chuckle before he looked into Sova's eyes intently and pushed off the wall, hiding behind his hat and walking over to the storage room off to the side. He didn't see the man walk in there, just the door closing behind him and he was compelled to follow.
As the stage he was standing on crowded with people who put in effort to organise the party, he took his chance to back up amongst them and slipped away, off the stage and right after his hide-and-seek-loving partner.
He beelined towards the storage room, stepping past Omen, who had found himself a place in the shadows as usual, without even saying hello.
He was sure the phantom noticed his urgency but it didn't seem to matter at the moment. He was following Cypher's trail like a will-o'-the-wisp.
He reached the door and walked in. It closed with a soft click and although his eyes didn't need time to get used to the darkness, he didn't see Cypher in there anyway.
“Sasha, my measured friend,” a voice called out from behind him. He'd fallen for the oldest trick in the book, which hiding behind the door was.
“Amir. You barely waited for me to finish my speech,” he said with playfulness he rarely showed.
“I'll make sure to rewatch it later on to really get the message,”
“I’ll make sure you delete the recording.”
“And how do you plan on doing that?” Cypher challenged. Although he was just joking, he really did record the man's speech through his mask. Watching his partner on that stage made him proud.
“I know where you keep your tapes,” Sova stated with confidence that bordered on foolishness and frowned upon hearing the spy chuckle.
“You don't know everything, Sasha.” He said with that sort of satisfaction he always seemed to gain from keeping his secrets, which waned when he said the man's name, overarched by a slightly apologetic, loving tone. Sova's happy expression also paled a little at that as if he'd been caught off guard by the words more than by Cypher's little trick when he entered the room.
The sounds of the party were muffled by the door to the dark, cramped room they were in. Music, agent's voices, someone talking into the microphone… it was all just background noise for the charged silence between them.
“Thank you,” Sova said.
“For tonight. And for every time you chose to trust me”
Cypher took a slightly shaky breath in before scoffing shortly.
“Should I record this speech too?”
The hunter shifted a little uncomfortably. He knew it sounded somewhat artificial but he meant it.
“I'm not lying.”
“I wouldn't accuse you of that,” the Moroccan cleared up quickly, knowing Sova's slightly intense insistence on honesty.
“Thank you too, Sasha. You're… dear to me.” The words were a little awkward and that wasn't what he really wanted to say. But ‘love’ got stuck somewhere in his throat, pushed down by fear and guilt.
Sova smiled. He knew what he wanted to say. He didn't have an issue admitting it.
“I love you too Amir.”
And just like that the distance between the men was only physical, as they both understood each other better than anyone else did. Rarely did they say anything straightforward but this cryptic way of things was just like their own secret language they were fluent at.
A wave of applause was heard outside the room before a very distinct “ten!” was shouted by the small crowd. There was a sudden urgency l in the small room as both men started slightly and tensed up.
When they heard “nine!” Cypher's hands reached up to his mask, unzipping it with shaky hands. He had to do it now or never.
At “eight!” He pulled it up to reveal his neck, where his adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed nervously, before pulling the mask up over his lips at “seven!”
The time before that and “six!” seemed like eternity to Sova and like not long enough for Cypher, as one admired everything he just got to see and the other forced his hands to stop shaking and reveal his nose.
Both the mechanical and organic eyes of Sova saw the blue LEDs of Cypher's mask move into the second plane to let real, brown ones be revealed and finally hold eye contact, pupils blown wide in both pairs as “five!” sounded out somewhere.
“Four!” wasn't even heard by them as the piece of black fabric fell on the floor quietly.
At “three!” Sova reached out, placing a hand on his partner's face, his thumb skimming over the old scars, and the razor cut from unskilled shaving. Rough beard against his soft palm, and soft skin on his calloused fingers.
He leaned in closer, close enough to where he could see the tiniest wrinkles in the corners of those brown eyes. He looked down at full, reddened lips and hesitated, suddenly shy and unsure. “Two!”
“One!” was shouted louder than the rest and happened quicker than any dynamic fight they've ever been in.
Cypher's hand snapped into Sova's hair, pulling him closer and linking their lips together. He stumbled before hugging the spy's frame closer and kissing back. Lips on lips with nothing interrupting the touch, saliva mixing together. Closeness they've been yearning for for so long, the warmth of the other's skin. None of the cheers from outside could be heard, and if they could, they'd seem to be cheering for them.
It wasn't by any means perfect. They hadn't had the chance to practice for at least seven years. And still it couldn't have been any better for either of them. It was starved, needy, desperate and slightly too rushed. Especially when Sova melted into the embrace, leaning his body on Cypher which caused them to stumble back into a wall. Only then, when the startled spy bit his lip, did they split.
Cypher didn't open his eyes right away, breathing shakily, but he could feel the Russian's eyes on him. When he did finally open them, he saw the man looking at him with so much love he looked like he couldn't handle it himself, as his eyebrows twitched gently. He felt Sova's calloused fingers trail up to brush against his cheek, caressing his face as if he was trying his best to commit it to memory.
He muttered some quiet word in his native language and let his shaky thumb skim against Cypher's lips.
The Moroccan in turn was too overwhelmed to do much, just staring at his partner.
“Sasha?” he spoke after a while, nearly not recognising his own voice. There was no vocal response but Cypher had already had all of Sova's attention on him before he even asked.
“Can I do it again?"