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“Sir Flins, don’t you think you’ve had enough to drink tonight?”
Illuga’s exasperated voice cut through the chatter inside The Flagship; the captain was accompanying Flins tonight at the bar, increasingly worried at the amount of alcohol being consumed by his colleague. Illuga gestured to the bartender, Demyan, to stop giving Flins anymore to drink tonight even while the taller man spilled complaints in his ear.
“We have work tomorrow…!” Illuga argued, trying to stop Flins’ indignant moans, challenging the fae’s pouting with a mildly annoyed glare.
“I’ve performed fine with more to drink before…”
“That worries me more!!” Illuga shouted back incredulously, searching the other’s eyes for any source of deceit. Frustratingly, Flins did not look one bit affected by the drinks… Even Illuga was a bit buzzed with his one glass of beer.
“We’ll leave after one more glass, Master Illuga.” Flins made puppy eyes at the Lightkeeper captain, hoping to influence his hard-set decision; it’s worked before, so Flins was hoping his charm wouldn’t fail him now. Illuga even faltered a bit, his people-pleasing habits clawing to break through.
“… No, we’re leaving now—finish your drink.”
Flins and Illuga had a staring contest, eye contact unwavering, an unspoken agreement that whoever loses would cave; Flins made no move to finish his drink, as if challenging Illuga. The captain caught on to the fae’s antics fast, seeming to debate for a few seconds in his head and heaved a sigh once he reached a decision.
Suddenly, Flins’ world turned upside down has he was hoisted onto Illuga’s left shoulder; the younger Lightkeeper carried the taller man with little-to-no effort, left arm locking Flins’ legs behind a strong, secure grip. Flins adjusted himself, hands pushing against Illuga’s back to correct his head’s position. The fae quickly grew flustered at Illuga’s boldness, not expecting to be manhandled so brazenly—in the tavern where everyone could see, no less. Flins tries to wriggle his legs free, ears burning as Illuga tightened his hold; Flins even let out a weak ‘Put me down,’ but it fell upon deaf ears.
“Thanks, Demyan, you can put the drinks on my tab.” Illuga bid the man farewell, who returned the gesture, pausing mid glass-polishing to wave back.
Illuga ignored the other patrons’ stares, tired out of his mind and desperately wanting to sleep. The other customers were completely startled by the show, with many staring bug-eyed, not expecting the Captain of the Nightmare Orioles to effortlessly sweep the fae off his seat like he weighed nothing, especially judging by his stature. Flins’ pulse was racing, caught off-guard by the display of tenacity; his struggling died down swiftly, beginning to enjoy being carried by Illuga—his hold was grounding and Flins found his strength very attractive. When Illuga noticed Flins stopped struggling, he squeezed the back of the fae’s thighs as if placating him and Flins had to hide his face in his hand, using all his willpower to not look like he’s enjoying it.
…
“You can put me down now, Master Illuga.”
Illuga still had the fae thrown over his shoulder, steadily treading on the path back to the Final Night Cemetery. Illuga made no indication that he’d heard Flins, as only the sound of footsteps echoed through the air, accompanying the rustling of fabric and clinks of Flins’ chains. The fae lightly hit the back of Illuga’s coat to get his attention, feeling a bit petulant now that they’re alone.
“I’m not risking you running back to the tavern, Flins.” There was a low growl paired with Illuga’s stern words; they left no room for argument, so Flins stayed quiet, letting out an amused huff.
The moment they arrived at the cemetery, Illuga finally put down Flins, then swiftly grabbed the fae’s coat as insurance—just in case. The captain ushered them both inside, eager to crawl into bed and sleep his exhaustion away; he didn’t even change into his pyjamas, he was that exhausted. In his half-asleep state, Illuga also stripped off Flins’ coat and dragged him under the same covers.
They don’t usually sleep together; Flins has little need for it, but offers the bed up for Illuga whenever he’s in the mood for a power nap, which is why this situation, albeit surprising, was a welcome sight. Illuga would refuse to sleep a lot, believing ‘there’s still much to do’, without any regard for his own physical and mental health, so Flins cherishes the fact that Illuga is finally getting some rest despite it being at the expense of his drinking time.
✧✦✧✦✧✦
“Sir Flins,”
Illuga sat upon the bed, stirring Flins ‘awake’; the fae opened his eyes slowly, mocking a groggy persona. When he blinked awake, his eyes squinting slightly at the morning rays highlighting Illuga’s silhouette. The sunlight complimented him well, as always.
“Yes, Master Illuga…?”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be so rude to you last night; it was unbecoming of me… My fatigue seemed to have influenced my actions.”
Flins pushed himself upright, emitting a soft laugh and Illuga was stunned into silence—he rarely sees Flins in bed, let alone waking up together, and the sunshine twinkling off the fae’s twilight locks was picturesque, Illuga muses that he wouldn’t mind seeing this again in the morning.
“Don’t apologise, Young Master. With me acting like a spoiled child, I don’t blame you.” Illuga scratched his neck nervously, unable to disagree with his comparison; but alas it rubbed Illuga the wrong way to disrespect his senior like that.
“I still shouldn’t have used force—“ Flins gently placed a finger to Illuga’s lips to silence him.
“Hush. I’d gladly let you do it again.” He teased the captain, sending a coy wink in Illuga’s direction.
A beat of silence.
Illuga instantly shot out of bed like lightning just struck, face burning bright red, he fumbled his coat back on—even missing the arm hole on his first try—and rushed out the door shouting a quick ‘I’llseeyouatworkSirFlins,bye…!’. Flins found it fascinating how fast the Lightkeeper ran out the front door, chortling when the whole building shook from Illuga slamming the door.
“I suppose I should get ready for work too…”
During the hike to Piramida, instead of overviewing the upcoming meeting with the Lightkeepers, Flins thought about different ways to get Illuga to handle him roughly again. It’s such a fun sight seeing the captain riled up got Flins all hot and bothered, and he wanted to re-experience the rush of adrenaline again—ah, yes, for research purposes, of course. It’s not everyday he lets a human this close; Illuga is an exception.
As he stepped off the elevator, he caught Illuga’s eyes as he walked towards the main plaza; the shorter man noticed, momentarily pausing mid-conversation, before he flickered his eyes elsewhere, shyly avoiding the fae’s gaze. Flins chuckled to himself; Illuga was probably reminded of their interaction earlier that morning, and the fae loved that he had such an effect on him.
Inside the Grand Mead Hall, Illuga stood near the front beside Nikita and the other Lightkeeper captains. The meeting was a quick brief about clearing out the random surge of Wild Hunt monsters around the Voidsea Outlook; Flins was less focused on listening and, instead, more focused on ways to aggravate Illuga into disciplining him again. The entire time, Flins left fleeting touches against the back of Illuga’s neck, hoping the captain would do something, but Illuga held an admirable amount of resilience.
Once the meeting adjourned, Flins followed the crowd, a little bit disappointed that Illuga paid him no mind; it’s not the first time he’s tried to distract him this way, so he’d likely become accustomed to Flins’ antics. What he didn’t notice was that Illuga lingered behind Flins, ready to confront—he snatched one of the straps hanging off Flins’ coat, tugging him backward. Illuga then clutched Flins’ arm, tightening his grip as a threat.
“Stop doing that during our meetings, Flins.” He glared—or tried to—Flins saw he wasn’t too mad, so it was comparable to an angry bunny. Flins hummed, as if contemplating the captain’s words.
“What will you do if I don’t stop, Master Illuga?”
Illuga gave a resolved sigh, knowing that asking Flins to stop teasing him was as difficult as getting Illuga to stop being his self-sacrificing self. He decided to let Flins off the hook once again, missing the way the fae’s smile fell a little when Illuga didn’t press into the matter any further. Ah well, Flins could try a different approach.
An opportunity landed into Flins’ hands once the fight against the Wild Hunt resurgence was quelled. Flins was working with Illuga this time, and he’s always eager to watch the young master in action, with his and Aedon’s coordination being nothing short of beautiful. Once the battle settled, the Lightkeepers took a quick break, catching their breath; they didn’t linger any longer, however, since Nikita instructed them to head back to Piramida as soon as possible for any intel updates.
“Are you hurt, Sir Flins?” Illuga approached the fae, who was leaning by a tree. Flins noticed the slash in his trousers, which may have triggered Illuga’s concern.
“Ah, I’m fine, Master Illuga. Feel free to walk back without me.” Flins covered his unblemished skin, using magic to manifest a laceration on his leg so Illuga wouldn’t notice before he came closer. Illuga gently tugged the hand out the way, lightly hissing at the bloody gash on Flins’ thigh.
“At least the cut looks clean; are you able to walk?”
Flins could’ve easily said ‘yes, I can’, but he knows a golden ticket when it’s waving in his face.
“Would you be against carrying me to Piramida?” Flins leaned more weight onto the tree, wincing to sell the illusion more. Illuga sympathised, seeing the ‘pain’ Flins was in, and immediately set himself into action.
“Piggy-backing could aggravate the cut, so perhaps…” Illuga talked to himself, before he nodded, resolute.
He lifted Flins’ legs up from the back of his knees and cupped the fae’s back with his right arm, resulting in a bridle carry. Flins wrapped his arms around Illuga, unfamiliar with being held in this position. The sight was a bit comical—their height difference mainly to blame. The other Lightkeepers in the squad gawked, not expecting Flins, of all people, to be the one sustaining an injury. Illuga cleared his throat, snapping everyone out of their trance and they all started hiking back to Headquarters.
“Sorry, this must be embarrassing for you…” Illuga’s ears warmed, avoiding Flins’ gaze.
“Nonsense, I’m enjoying every second.” Flins tightened the grip around Illuga’s neck, snuggling his head into the crook of Illuga’s neck.
It’s not exactly manhandling, but Flins will take what he can get. He can’t really complain when he has Illuga’s attention all to himself right now.
Once they stepped off the elevator, the plaza was crowded with other Lightkeepers—some attending to the wounded and some redirecting the mass into the Grand Hall for the scheduled debrief. Illuga didn’t expect to draw so many eyes, hoping that they would be one of the first few to arrive, but it seems tending to Flins took longer than planned. His colleagues gaped at the sight of Illuga holding Flins in a princess carry, uncharacteristic for Flins to be in someone else’s care; hushed murmurs began to spread, and Illuga’s face ignited, scurrying to the medical bay near his house. Flins’ chuckling tickled his ear and Illuga groaned in exasperation, trying to ignore how his stomach did back flips.
“Okay, you stay here and get patched up. I’ll talk to my pops about giving you a day off.” Illuga gave a stern look to Flins that says ‘listen, or else’, and turned on his heel, returning to the Grand Hall for the debrief. The fae watched his back retreat as a medic wrapped up his ‘wound’.
✧✦✧✦✧✦
Flins resumes his behaviour a few days later, trying to goad Illuga into reacting aggressively again. It’s so rare for Illuga to be so forward, Flins finds himself looking forward to seeing it more and more. After his day off, the following afternoon, Flins couldn’t find Illuga anywhere in Piramida and was later informed by Nikita that he was out at Cliffwatch Camp on duty with the traveller, so unfortunately the fae resigned to try a different day.
The two finally have patrol together, so Flins tried to withhold Illuga’s weapon as a tactic; they were at the Final Night Cemetery, having a quick rest at Flins’ home before they headed out for a patrol round. The fae thought maybe Illuga would maybe get more physical with Flins to get his spear back, perhaps yanking his arm or body—but turns out Illuga’s patience today is particularly remarkable. The shorter man gave him an expectant stare, before holding out his palm calmly, no words spoken. Illuga’s eyes were devoid of irritation, as if believing Flins purposefully grabbed his spear for him.
There was a long pause as Flins debated if it was worth acting bratty again to get his way, and finally settled on giving Illuga the weapon. It was one if his weaker ideas, so Flins didn’t bother to pursue the method. Flins resolved to leave the attempts for today, content with the idea of just spending time with Illuga, but it seems like the Moon Goddess chose to smile upon him today.
Out on patrol, a battle broke out between the two Lightkeepers and the Wild Hunt, and Flins was flanked by two at the same time, unable to notice the third one encroaching behind him. He took out the first two with Illuga before something instantly yanked him to the right—Illuga’s arm wrapped around his waist—the captain caught Flins’ fall with one arm while he stabbed the abyssal monster with the spear in his opposing hand. Flins’ eyes widened, sparkling at Illuga’s reaction, heart surging at the show of strength; he couldn’t be happier, finally getting some more rough handling. Illuga didn’t notice Flins’ smile, instead checking the fae for potential injuries and fretting over any holes in his uniform.
It seems that Flins garnered more results not baiting Illuga: a similar thing happened a couple days later. The two were tasked to fix this kuuvahki-powered cannon, when the machine swelled with energy, gearing up a shot at the two Lightkeepers. Flins prepared to leap backwards, believing Illuga would do the same, but the captain’s self-preservation was practically non-existent. Illuga, alternatively, tackled the fae to the side, arms wrapped around Flins’ middle, and the two tumbled like a barrel until the fae ended up on his back. Illuga laid on top of him, like a shield, he got up on all-fours, both arms trapping Flins’ head to the ground. The shorter man was more concerned about the cannon—now powered off— to notice their suggestive positions.
“Master Illuga…” The words snapped Illuga out of his thoughts, he peered down at Flins, now fully conscious of how he pinned the fae to the floor. Illuga immediately launched himself backwards, leaning on his rear, he waved his hands in front of his body, giving more space to the other.
“S-sorry, Flins— Are you hurt?” Illuga, although he asked, couldn’t bring himself to meet the fae’s eyes, too self-conscious about their previous positions.
“Nothing serious, Master Illuga,” Flins giggled, the timbre bringing a hotter wave upon Illuga’s rosy cheeks. “Thank you.”
✧✦✧✦✧✦
Flins ended up bent over Illuga’s desk one night, completely caught off-guard by Illuga’s rough treatment (not that he’s complaining). The captain was pulling an all-nighter, and Flins happened to come across him at his office. The fae’s footsteps were light, but he didn’t intentionally mask any sounds, thinking Illuga had also heard him open the door. The moment Flins’ hand touched Illuga’s shoulder, he was directly shoved onto the plane of the desk, papers flying everywhere, and his arms were pinned behind him by Illuga’s gloved hands. Flins didn’t even see Illuga move, the situation dazing him momentarily.
“Sir Flins?!” Illuga unlatched his hands from Flins’ trapped arms, “Sorry, you startled me…” Flins got up, leaning on his elbows as he peeked behind his shoulder, looking at Illuga. Hopefully the dim desk lighting hides the tips of Flins’ ears flushing scarlet.
“It seems you need to rest, Master Illuga.” Flins hid a smile, hearing Illuga make an indignant sound. “Surely staying up this late doesn’t benefit your well-being.”
“You shouldn’t have snuck up behind me…” Illuga tried steering the conversation away from his atrocious sleep schedule.
“I admit I could’ve greeted you verbally, but my footsteps and the door were fully audible.”
“Fine.” Illuga gave up, inviting Flins to stay the night, way too tired to care about the implications.
Come morning, Illuga tried to convince Flins to help him write up the reports he abandoned last night, stating that Flins can ‘get it over with’ and that he would help him. Of course, the fae adamantly refused, shuddering at the thought of paperwork. The whole morning, Illuga felt like he was talking to a brick wall, Flins redirected him with flowered words, remarking ‘you’re the most reliable at writing reports’ and offering him a warm glass of water, so Illuga just stopped pestering, finishing his breakfast quietly. Illuga’s front door closed, with Flins going who knows where, and the captain settled in his chair, mentally preparing to finish the reports.
It was a bit past noon when Illuga started feeling peckish, placing his quill down to stretch; his body gladly welcomed the change after being stuck in one position for hours straight. He decided to check the food selection the Grand Mead Hall had today, too busy to cook something with all the reports needing to be finished.
When he stepped inside, he made a beeline for the food, thanking the volunteers for their work, and even stood to chat with one of the Lightkeepers-in-training as he munched on his plate. Illuga was midway through a fowl drumstick, nodding along to a conversation, when his eyes drifted away for a second, latching onto a familiar head of blue hair. He did a double-take as he choked on his mouthful, eyebrows furrowing at the sight of Flins drinking with a few other Lightkeepers at the long table. He felt utterly betrayed—left to plough through the paperwork by himself while Flins was just here enjoying himself.
Illuga shovelled the rest of the food down, muttering a quick ‘excuse me’ to his conversation partner before storming over to Flins’ seat. The instant Flins put down his cup, Illuga wrenched him out of his seat and tossed him over his shoulder, reminiscent of the same scenario at The Flagship. The Lightkeepers inside the hall made a riot at the sight of Illuga carrying Flins again; a lot of them only heard about it through the grapevine, so seeing it in person made it all the more of a spectacle.
A visible blush painted Flins’ cheeks and ears, his colleagues’ wolf whistling making it worse; he didn’t struggle, wondering what got Illuga so worked up, and mourned the rest of his drink.
“I can’t believe you left me to write reports while you went out to drink.” Illuga muttered on his walk back home, Flins still draped over his shoulder.
Flins was flung on the couch the moment Illuga stepped foot inside—but the fae was faster, grabbing Illuga’s coat, so the captain would follow him in the fall and land on top of him.
“You’re such a handful—why are you being so difficult?” Illuga sighed, but his anger was already fading, knowing it’s useless to scold Flins.
“Are you going to put me in my place, Master Illuga?” Flins tilted his head, an arm around Illuga’s neck to pull him closer, playful lilt in his voice.
Illuga responded with a gaping mouth, unable to say anything as a deep scarlet spread across his fair complexion—his arms almost gave up for a second, Flins’ allure almost distracting him from keeping upright. Flins observed the captain’s eyes as Illuga’s brain short-circuited momentarily, amused laugh reverberating through the living room. They were currently tangled up together on the couch, with Illuga’s arms trapping the fae’s head against the cushion—Illuga positioned his leg between Flins’ and cupped his chin with a firm grip; Flins watched, breath hitching as Illuga’s lips turn upwards into a smile, eyes glinting.
“Don’t complain after, okay?”