Chapter Text
“What will it be, esteemed young master? Sparkling or still? Or… flavoured, perhaps? Oh, my, young master. You have quite the discerning palate. It will surely be flavoured today.”
“What in…” Illuga stared at the man in front of him.
Flins held an enormous glass pitcher in each of his elegant hands, both so full that water trickled over the brim. He smiled pleasantly and offered the pitchers to Illuga to illustrate his words. On his nose was perched a delicate golden monocle, and his hair was neatly tied back with a velvet handkerchief. Rather than his typical black cloak and accoutrements, he wore a baffling black and white suit with a tailcoat and shining leather shoes. To complete the image, a small yellow rose peeked from his breast pocket.
It was nothing short of absurd, the way Flins looked. Illuga once read part of a light novel that a Ratnik had abandoned in a storage shed to collect dust, and he could faintly recall a romance involving a butler and his fair lady.
“Young master?” Flins prompted. “My arms tire, young master.”
“If you think I’m roleplaying with you, you are wrong!”
Illuga squeezed his eyes shut. A moment later, he felt weight on the sofa where he sat. A hand softly brushed against his cheek.
“Look at me, young master,” Flins whispered.
“This is… ridiculous…” Illuga replied.
“Sparkling or still?”
“Stop touching me.”
Illuga finally dared to open his eyes. He stared at Flins’ face, so close that he could count each delicate eyelash, and watched the way those yellow eyes crinkled happily at the corners.
“If you’ll not choose, then I suppose I must do it for you, young master.”
Flins steadied the pitcher he held in his free hand and tipped it back, drinking freely. Illuga watched with a growing dread as he filled his mouth with water.
Smash! The pitcher fell to the polished marble floor and shattered. Taking no notice of the mess, Flins pushed himself against Illuga and pressed their mouths together.
“Mmph!” Illuga choked—
—
Illuga stood on Wavechaser Plain, blinking as he held a hand up to block the bright sun. It must have been summer, since the air was pleasantly warm and he wasn’t even wearing his coat. A hawk cried out from far overhead. Nearby, he noticed several mandragoras tottering along through the brush.
“Illuga.” The beautiful voice that called his name was too familiar.
“Flins?! I can’t say I expected to see you here,” Illuga said, truly shocked. Flins rarely left his island residence. Here he was, all the same, looking just as handsome as he always did.
“There’s an issue, Master Illuga, to tell the truth,” Flins replied gravely.
“An… issue? Are you alright?”
Flins gestured to the plains surrounding them. “Well, just take a look at all these Flinses. How will you ever find the real one?”
Illuga blinked, and when his eyes focused, he found himself standing before an endless line of identical Flinses. They all stared at him expectantly.
“The real one…?”
Illuga reached out and pressed his hand against the nearest Flins’ chest. The Flins smiled blissfully and enveloped Illuga’s fingers with his own. “It is not I, but I find myself enchanted all the same.”
“What the hell?” Illuga snatched his hand away and stepped in front of the next Flins. “Can you tell me which one is the real Flins?”
“Would that I could, dear Illuga,” the Flins replied, and he seemed genuinely upset. “I know that it is not I, but beyond that I am utterly useless to you.”
“Oh, this will take too long,” Illuga groaned. His heart was pounding.
The second Flins reached out and caught the hem of his sweater. “If I may… Why are you looking for him?”
“Because I don’t want to lose him to a hundred fakes! Who knows what sort of trick this is? What if he’s in danger?”
The Flins smiled, overcome with emotion, and let go.
Irritation and nervousness growing, Illuga took several wide steps backward and cupped his hands round his mouth. “If the real Flins doesn’t come to me in ten seconds, we’ll never be friends again! And I truly won’t visit your lighthouse ever again, so…!”
One Flins stumbled forward, looking scared. The rest of the Flinses disappeared in tiny flickers of dark flame. “How could you threaten me like that?!”
“What?! You’re the one playing tricks on me!” Illuga stalked closer and smacked his shoulder. “Don’t do that!”
“It was meant as harmless fun…” Flins protested, “Although… Perhaps it was not so harmless. I am deeply sorry, Illuga.”
Illuga crossed his arms, unimpressed. “Well, I’ll not be visiting your lighthouse anytime soon, so you’re already paying the price.”
“I suppose I am. Forgive me.” Flins pulled him closer until he found himself in a deep embrace.
Slowly, Illuga rested his head on Flins’ shoulder. Although he had been frightened for a moment, his heart had already calmed. Enveloped in that warmth, he nearly felt like smiling. “Right…”
—
“I-Illuga…” Flins groaned, teeth gritted.
Illuga looked intently at the man below him, his pale skin nearly translucent in the flickering lamplight. He dragged his fingertips straight down Flins’ throat, eliciting a low, strangled sound.
“Let me, Illuga… Please…”
“I’m not done yet,” Illuga murmured, concentrating. He leaned close to Flins’ chest and pressed his mouth to the skin. It was warm. Flins’ hands tightened on his legs, urgency evident in each of his shudders and minute spasms.
Illuga had never been so close to him before. Flins panted on the bed below him, his dark hair spilling across the blankets carelessly. Illuga was smaller, but he managed just fine to cage Flins with his own body. Even as he trailed across Flins’ chest with his lips and teeth, he felt a hand brush his hair carefully out of his face.
“If you’d only relinquish the high ground, I would give you everything.” Flins was practically begging. Illuga enjoyed the sound.
“Take it from me, then, sir,” Illuga breathed between kisses.
Flins buried his hand in the hair at the base of Illuga’s neck and guided his head back up. Their mouths collided messily; the stars that filled Illuga’s mind made him wish he was the one on the bed.
On cue, Flins swept him over and braced himself above Illuga’s dazed form. He pulled Illuga’s legs up, prompting them to wrap around his waist, and smiled coquettishly. “May I?”
—
“Gah!”
Illuga sat straight up in his bed and buried his face in his palms. He felt faint. He tried to ignore the heat in his lower stomach. Strange dreams with Flins were one thing, but sex dreams were on an entirely different and completely unwelcome level. Until he was sure Flins reciprocated his feelings, he shouldn’t even dare to dream up any sort of relationship between them.
This really was unbearable. It had been over three weeks since Illuga had started dreaming of Flins. Every night it was something new, and each scenario was more absurd than the last. Having sex was definitely a new low. He was such a damn degenerate. He sighed loudly, glad there was nobody to bear witness.
It was only later that day, while he was in the middle of sorting reports, that it finally dawned upon Illuga. Flins was the cause for all of it.
The realization sent papers fluttering around the office as Illuga stumbled to his feet and knocked over an entire sorted pile of meeting minutes.
“That… That…” Illuga choked out, turning to stare out the window. What time was it? Would he make it? “That pervert!”
—
“Flins!” In his haste to reach the island, Illuga leapt from his boat too early. Splashing through icy, knee-deep seawater, he used the momentum of the tide to pull the boat ashore. He called for Flins more than once, but this part of the island remained quiet.
Illuga ran up the hill toward the lighthouse. His thoughts were a mess: one moment they scattered so thoroughly he could barely justify his reason for being here, and the next his resolve would again take coherent form within his brain. Either way, he knew he was about to rip Flins a new one for the torture he had subjected him to for the last three weeks.
Flins stood under his old awning, much like always, stooping down to sort through several small boxes.
“Hey, Flins!”
He straightened and turned to face Illuga’s approaching figure, expression slightly apprehensive. A jewelled necklace hung forgotten from his hand.
“Young Master Illuga. I was not expecting you today. Is everything alright?”
“Did you—?!” Illuga paused, wondering how to word his accusation in a way that wasn’t pure nonsense.
Flins dropped the necklace and gently took Illuga by the shoulders. “Really, are you alright? Have you been sleeping well?”
“Ah! That!” Illuga levelled his finger straight at Flins’ nose. “I knew it.”
“You knew what, Illuga?” Flins frowned.
“I don’t know how you’re doing it, or why you’d choose me, but you’ve ruined my dreams.” As Illuga spoke, the frown on Flins’ mouth deepened progressively. “Everything was normal until I mentioned my nightmares to you—what, three weeks ago? Four? It’s a damn cruel trick to have me dream of you! And don’t you feign innocence, you hear? You keep mentioning my sleep. I know that this is because of you.”
Flins looked down to the ground and his grip on Illuga loosened considerably. It was a moment before he spoke. “I take issue with you claiming your nightmares to be normal.”
“What? That’s what you get from this?”
“Not so. I… I took issue with your nightmares. I have always wished for your happiness. So… I only hoped you might dream of better things. Your favourite… people, or your favourite places… Ah…”
Illuga thought Flins was merely at a loss for words as he explained, but quickly noticed the tremble of his shoulders. He seized both of Flins’ cheeks with his hands and tilted his head upward.
And that bastard was holding back a laugh. Illuga bristled like a cat and squeezed his cheeks until they bulged. Flins could hardly contain himself.
“Right, so you trapped me in strange, perverted dreams, and now you think that’s funny?” Illuga asked, tone distressed, brows furrowed. “I’ve been suffering because of you. You don’t even know how I feel about you and you’ve left me in the lurch, damnit.”
“Master Illuga, that isn’t it,” Flins muttered, gasping slightly as he attempted to compose himself. He really seemed to be enjoying this. “I sent you happy dreams and that is all. Nothing more. I—” he paused briefly to hiccup, “—never inserted myself into your dreams.”
“What? What did you just say?” Illuga let go of Flins as if his face were made of red hot metal. Flins caught his hands on the way down, holding them securely.
“Oh, I don’t mean to laugh, I’m sorry.” He smiled widely. His eyes were alight with something dangerous. “Just… Illuga. I didn’t expect this at all.”
“Flins.”
“You had perverted dreams of me?” Flins pressed in a honeyed, soft voice. “What kind, Illuga? Can you explain? Will you show me?”
“Stop, stop,” Illuga protested as he tried in vain to pull his hands away. His face was on fire. “Are you telling me the truth? And how could you… I mean, in the first place, dreams…?”
“I do not lie.” Flins tilted his head to the side. “You needn’t dwell on the how of the dreams… I only made use of a few illusions. More importantly, I suppose this makes me your favourite person. Doesn’t it? Might I assume so?”
“What’s the point in admitting something like that?” Illuga croaked, nearly dead from embarrassment. “I’m leaving.”
“You can’t leave; you just arrived.”
“Have mercy on me…”
Flins released his hands, but it was only so he could sweep Illuga into his arms and pull him flush against his body. They stared at each other.
“I have always wished for your happiness,” Flins whispered, “I would do anything to secure it. Whether I send peaceful dreams your way or hold you like this to confess all my desire and longing for you, it is all merely a part of my quest.”
Illuga’s heartbeat pulsed headily in his ears. From his parted lips, only breath escaped. His mind went blank and he could not speak. His hand found Flins’ hair and threaded through it like a shuttle in a loom. Flins leaned down and kissed him, simply and surely. The sensation was unquestionably and so sincerely real. There could be no doubt; the dreams had been nice, but nothing would ever again measure up to this sensation.