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 Posted: Fri Jul 11, 2025 5:13 pm
Takes place in June, right after Resentment. After the forest, they went to Surtur.
Vyn wasn’t used to such frequency in his visits. He accompanied Surtur at scheduled times for the sake of ease, because Surtur could only travel so often and Vyn had other obligations to work around. But Surtur offered the escape—temporary, like so much had become—and Vyn saw no reason to refuse. In his misery, Earth felt too much like a prison. The longer their mission continued, the more Vyn resented the Earth and its people. Even its beauty had lost its luster.
Surtur kept a little house in a little village high up in the mountains where the Mist had not reached. There was a sadness to it, as there was everywhere on a dying world. Vyn added his own torment to the dismal air, slumping into a chair near the hearth.
Once he’d cleaned himself up as best he could, wiping the blood and dirt from his face with scraps of cloth and water he kept in subspace, Vyn retrieved the small leather pouch with the twinkling earring Surtur had gifted him last time.
“You said you’d help me with it,” Vyn reminded him.
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Posted: Fri Jul 11, 2025 5:16 pm
The fire was already burning by the time Vyn seemed settled enough to talk to him again. Surtur had lit it the moment they arrived, but the little house still held the chill of a long absence. Even though the frequency of his visits may vary, he did his best to keep everything as though he’d never left. As if maybe someone might show up and need the shelter.
While Vyn cleaned himself up, Surtur had swept the light snow that began to fall off of the village paths. A habit he always did, even though no one walked them but him. He cleared every doorway to each little house in the village, dusted off the signs above the apothecary and inn, and made sure there was enough dry firewood set outside of his little house.
The village had been empty for centuries, but it had not been abandoned. Even if he was the only one there.
And now there was someone else, no matter how temporary.
Surtur watched as Vyn settled into the worn chair beside the hearth. Grief was heavy there, but it was just a part of the world now. There was no judgment in the somber air around them.
When Vyn spoke, pulling out the earring from the small leather pouch, Surtur crossed the room to stand beside him. He reached out with calloused fingers, brushing gently along Vyn’s jaw so he could tilt his head up. It was almost as if his movements were ceremonial, rather than just observation.
“I did say that,” he nodded quietly in confirmation. He had the tools ready. The last time he took Vyn there with him, while Vyn was finishing up his research, Surtur had taken the time to get everything prepared. Just in case.
There was a fine silver needle, clean cloths, healing ointment made of herbs that Surtur had dried himself. He knelt down beside Vyn, letting the firelight illuminate the small room.
It was filled with things to the casual eye, but everything that might seem to be hoarded held special value to Surtur. Special meaning. There were shelves filled with books and carved figurines. Broken pottery, musical instruments that hung from the walls. A dragon horn above the mantle. Pieces of armor or cloth set up as decoration. Children’s toys. Sheet music in large leather binders. But each had a label in rough, elegant script. Names, dates, places, all remembered and kept not just to keep. But it was part of his grief that grew into obsession over his years alone. A sanctuary for everything that he remembered for those no longer with him.
“You will feel a sting. That is all,” he explained quietly, wanting to make sure Vyn knew what to expect. He’d pierced many ears before. His children’s, his lovers’, his own. The only hesitation he had was for Vyn’s comfort.
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Posted: Fri Jul 11, 2025 5:16 pm
Touch was a novelty.
Not that Vyn went without it. Touch wasn’t so rare in his life as to be new or unfamiliar, but it was usually… restrained. Especially after joining the Vanguard, after leaving home for Earth, touch came with less frequency, to such a degree Vyn had chosen to make a point of touching when he thought the moment allowed for it. He hugged Aliez and Andreiya because he cared for them and treasured their closeness. He hugged Lyndin because he thought Lyndin might need it whether or not Lyndin ever gave any such indication, but also to satisfy his own greed, because admiring Lyndin from up close was better than doing so from afar. He touched the rest of his comrades, too, though less often and always in support, gripping hands and arms to offer what comfort he could.
The brush of Surtur’s fingers against his jaw was a kind of touch Vyn had not experienced for quite some time. There was a practicality to it, of course, but with it came a gentle surety Vyn craved. He tilted his head in the direction it was guided, softly compliant.
“I don’t think I’ll mind,” he said. “At least I know this pain won’t last.”
Like the wounds he hadn’t bothered to treat with his source stone, the puncture Surtur was preparing to make would heal on its own in time.
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Posted: Fri Jul 11, 2025 5:17 pm
Surtur’s hand lingered along Vyn’s jaw for maybe a moment longer than necessary. Not long enough to overstep or that Vyn might feel the need to pull away, but enough. Long enough for Surtur to trace the shape of Vyn’s jaw with his eyes, to look at his face where bruises would grow darker under flawless skin, to note how the color of his eyes was like moss, soft and easy to take for granted. Sad in a way that Tyr’s were.
“Still,” he hummed, his voice low, almost reverent. “Tell me if it is too much.”
He moved with precision. He cleaned the area along Vyn’s ear, and with a single, practiced motion, he passed the prepared needle through. There was some resistance, but then it was done. A small bead of blood formed where the piercing was made, but Surtur gently wiped it away with the cloth. He used the herbal ointment to soothe the area, although he knew with Velencian technology it was likely not needed. Still, there was more to it than just healing. The experience of the scents; the faint mint and lavender was meant to calm the nerves.
Once satisfied, Surtur gently took the earring from Vyn and carefully fixed it in place. He rose, standing back just enough to see. Then he turned to take an old, small mirror from the mantel and held it up for Vyn. It was weathered with dark marks around the edges, but it still worked for reflection.
“It suits you,” he nodded. His voice was worn by memory but still held quiet sincerity. He handed the mirror to Vyn and settled on the chair beside him. The fire crackled away in the hearth. The snow tapped softly against the roof and windows. He let the silence settle gently around them for a short while.
“You do not let just anyone touch you like that,” he quietly observed, speaking not as a question, but it was an invitation.
He turned slightly where he sat in the chair beside him, close enough to touch if he wished, but instead he kept his hand resting lightly on his own knee. He didn’t push Vyn to respond, he didn’t try to rush him, but his eyes, darker than Vyn’s but with the same pupil shape, remained fixed on Vyn’s face, carefully watching his expression.
“You can stay. As long as you like,” he added quietly after a moment. But this time, it wasn’t just about research or shelter.
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Posted: Fri Jul 11, 2025 5:18 pm
Vyn held himself still. The needle was as Surtur said: a brief sting, followed by the subtlest ache when it was done. Though the ointment would likely be unnecessary as soon as Aliez took notice and managed any further treatment himself, Vyn took pleasure in the faint aroma. He caught a trace of something flowery beneath something with crisper notes, like paste for cleaning teeth mixed with tender blossoms from the garden.
He took the mirror warily, afraid he might be displeased by what he saw—not the piercing so much as himself. The last several weeks since the Hollow had seen Vyn douse himself in bitterness and disappointment. He didn’t bear it all without shame. If anything, the further he withdrew, the more shame eclipsed all else.
The earring glittered in the firelight, a darker green than his eyes but not so ostentatious in design as to seem gaudy or out of place. A lock of pale hair fell in the way when he turned his head for a better look. Vyn tucked it back—longer now than when he first arrived on Earth, and untidy from his fight with the Eternal Senshi. Otherwise Vyn thought he still looked like himself, though perhaps a touch less innocent. Young, but seasoned in a way only four years on another world with the knowledge of impending doom could accomplish.
“Thank you,” he said, both for the gift and for the offer. Surtur’s world might not support life, but the shelter was adequate for the short term. The little house was firewarm, and full of trinkets Surtur had so painstakingly preserved, breathing life into his world through memory alone.
Vyn set the mirror aside once he’d looked his fill. He met Surtur’s gaze with something that could pass for a smile, though it never lost its sadness.
“It’s not that I don’t let anyone touch me,” he shared, “so much as they simply… don’t. The people of Earth are more demonstrative in that way, I think. I try to be, because… I think it’s a comfort some of us could benefit from, but it means I initiate most of it, so maybe I’m not used to receiving it first. And… no one has had much reason to touch my face,” he concluded, touching the tips of his fingers to his jaw where Surtur’s had so recently been.
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Posted: Fri Jul 11, 2025 5:18 pm
Surtur watched the way Vyn touched his own jaw, how his fingers ghosted over the place Surtur’s hand had just been. It was a small gesture, but Surtur felt a fluttering in his chest.
After so many years alone, it still surprised him how much a simple touch could mean. It hadn’t been that long ago that he felt that feeling before, again. He and Tyr had found each other, yes. But even with their understanding of each other, Tyr still often felt out of reach.
“That sounds lonely,” Surtur said after a long moment, his voice low but with understanding. “For you to give so much and still go untouched unless you ask for it.”
He shifted slightly as he turned towards Vyn in the chair beside him. He let their knees brush. This time, Surtur didn’t move away, and he didn’t let the silence fall between them either. At least not yet.
“I touch you because I want to,” he started softly, his eyes on Vyn’s face. “Not because I think you need it, or because it is polite or comforting. I do not want to be just another person you give comfort to. I want to be someone you can take it from.”
The words that tumbled from his lips surprised him a little. He hadn’t planned them, but maybe that was what made it so easy to say. He didn’t want Vyn for some calculated reason, nor did he want him in spite of the bitterness or grief clinging to him after everything.
He looked at Vyn’s face, studying it. Not just how he looked, but at the tension around his eyes, as though trying to read through the lines of exhaustion and loneliness.
“You came here with a thousand reasons not to trust anyone. And you still let me close,” Surtur said, his voice softer still. His hand moved, slower than before. There was no reason this time, not like when he tilted his head up to look at his ears. He simply let his fingers brush against Vyn’s knuckles where they rested on his jaw, lightly tracing over his skin. It was a suggestion more than a request.
“You do not have to want anything from me. You do not have to want more. But I do.”
He brushed his thumb slowly along the edge of Vyn’s fingers, as if to keep them grounded in the midst of a choice not yet made.
“I want you, Vyn.”
The words weren’t rushed, nor were they hungry. They just… were. Like fire or snow or ash. And Surtur would wait, if waiting was what Vyn needed. But he would not pretend that he felt nothing.
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Posted: Fri Jul 11, 2025 5:18 pm
Vyn would like to deny the loneliness. After all, what reason did he have to be lonely? He had friends he would die to protect, who would likewise sacrifice themselves for him. He had comrades to share his hardships with, if only he was brave enough to express them. He had Lyndin, too, who had more reason than Vyn to feel isolated and melancholy but who never gave any indication of either.
Touch wasn’t a requirement. Much could still be expressed in the absence of it—with a word, or a glance, or some other small gesture from one to another. Vyn gave of himself through touch because he wanted to, not because he had any expectation for his touch to be reciprocated. Touch wasn’t a universal comfort. What brought relief to one may not bring relief to another.
But he couldn’t pretend as if it didn’t make a difference to him, as if he didn’t watch the people of Earth with some envy when they offered their affections so openly, platonic or otherwise. Vyn often felt closed off from others, and though he knew it was partly of his own doing, he sometimes wished the effort to correct it didn’t have to be initiated by him—that in the process of drowning someone else would reach out and pull him to safety before he felt the need to scream.
Surtur touched him not out of practicality or comfort, but simply because he wanted to, because it brought him some level of satisfaction to do so. Surtur gazed at him attentively and spoke with confidence and sincerity, too earnest for Vyn to misinterpret his intentions.
“Oh…” A hushed exhale, soft beneath the crackling fire.
His cheeks, still flecked with dirt and a few specks of dried blood despite his effort to remove it, filled with color beneath developing bruises. His lips, split and swollen from another Senshi’s fist, parted around words he did not yet have. His eyes, wide and red-rimmed, glistened with new tears he hastily tried to blink away.
A creeping shyness crawled up Vyn’s spine, but he didn’t bow to it. He’d allowed Surtur closer than most because Surtur was not of Earth. Surtur had not been there on the hilltop the night Lyndin tried to obtain Caedus’ starseed. Surtur had little to do with Earth’s war; he hated the Negaverse because he hated Chaos but had no personal stake in the conflict. Surtur merely wished to revive his ruined homeland. Their goals were not so dissimilar that Vyn worried they would be at odds.
Hesitantly, Vyn took Surtur’s hand away and lowered it, only to hold it between his own. He ran the pads of his fingers over Surtur’s palm, tracing each line.
“I haven’t been with anyone for many years,” Vyn confessed.
There was a timidity to his words, but no rejection.
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Posted: Fri Jul 11, 2025 5:18 pm
Surtur didn’t move when Vyn took his hand, but instead allowed it to happen. He watched quietly as Vyn traced the lines of his palm. He felt the weight of Vyn’s words settle over them, but unlike the heaviness of grief, this was more open and honest, like the fresh snow that fell around the little house. He curled his hand under Vyn’s touch. It wasn’t to pull away, but to hold Vyn’s hand in return.
“You do not have to explain,” he said softly, reassuringly. “You do not owe me anything.”
Surtur shifted again, slowly and deliberately, until their knees pressed together. He lifted his other hand, this time to rest gingerly against Vyn’s cheek. The touch was light enough that if Vyn chose to pull away, he could. And when he didn’t, Surtur stroked his thumb gently over the curve of Vyn’s jaw, over a bruise that was beginning to darken.
“I will treat you with care,” he promised softly. “And I will stop the moment you ask me to.”
There was nothing rushed about his movements, about his touch. There was no hunger driving him, only the warmth of companionship. And there was clear intent in the way he looked into Vyn’s eyes. He leaned forward finally, close enough to share each other’s warmth, but he didn’t kiss him yet. Instead, he just rested his forehead lightly against Vyn’s.
“Come with me,” Surtur hummed softly, the words barely more than a whisper. Barely louder than the crackle of the fire in the hearth, or the snow that softly fell. It was as though the world was holding its breath.
“If you want to,” he said, and then waited, still holding Vyn’s hand, ready to lead… or to stay. Whatever Vyn chose.
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Posted: Fri Jul 11, 2025 5:19 pm
Vyn held himself still again—not out of any expectation of pain but out of the sudden fear that he might make the wrong choice.
His thoughts were as tangled as his feelings, his feelings as overwhelming as his thoughts. Vyn felt awash in contradiction. He wanted to be seen but didn’t want to be exposed. He wanted the space for vulnerability but not the danger that came with weakness. He wanted to be wanted, even if that wanting came with limits, but he felt lesser, to some degree, for wanting at all. What was this but a needless distraction, a silly diversion he wouldn’t know how to explain to anyone?
Perhaps he didn’t have to. Perhaps he spent too long trying to find words that weren’t even necessary, and not enough time living.
Vyn closed the distance between them and relished the stutter in his breath, the flicker of his pulse. He held his lips to Surtur’s and savored the rush of pleasure that came with being wanted—not flight, but something like it.
Fin to black! ;D
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