“Is this where I pretend to have even the foggiest idea what time it is?”
WHAT: Reunion after the time-travel shenaningans to Ancient Vallo WHERE: The Frye Train WHEN: Monday, May 10 (backdated) WARNINGS: None that I can think of? STATUS:Complete!
How did someone actually prepare for the sudden re-arrival of their significant other?
Serefin had nowhere to go, no place to be. It was all sit tight, move the knives, they'll appear where they left, and so Serefin sat on the bed he and Jacob shared, he moved the knives he had tried to collect from their hiding spots around the train (an abysmal showing) and Jacob would just be there. Time frame was sketchy, the precise moment fluctuating. And Serefin, restless and itching for a drink to smooth his bouncing knees and racing heart, couldn't seem to wait.
Ostyia had kept from catastrophizing, from being a depressing pessimist about the whole situation, but that didn't mean he was free from the darker thoughts of his mind during the days Jacob and the others had gone. It was not the first time he had spiraled over bad circumstances—it hadn't even been the first time him and Jacob were separated by the forces of Vallo—but the stakes were progressively higher than they had been last time. Serefin had more to lose. Serefin hadn't been the one left behind to the relative quiet of the train and the city and usual places where he spent time with Jacob. It had haunted him in the worst way.
He would have done horrible things to have a demon come crashing through the walls at this particular second, just to give him something to do. The fighting had chased the thoughts away, but only barely.
So he paced up and down the cars, moving tiny things straighter and kicking at the legs of a couch to push it back more. Anything and everything to waste time. That was until—
Serefin didn't have the kind of magic that could track a person anymore, at least not stealthily. He didn't have magic that could sense arrivals or set off alarms. But something spiked his blood inside of him, and Serefin urgently threw open one of the side-exit doors of the train to see Jacob standing a dozen yards away.
From the open door, leaning against it casually than he had felt this whole week, Serefin called to Jacob, "We will need to figure out a better way to keep the time between us. You're late."
Jacob appreciated an adventure. He didn’t even mind being bagged up and thrown into one, like yesterday’s rubbish. He had minded the missing piece of the puzzle, though. Nearly every friend he had went into the past with him; why the man he loved had gotten left behind was beyond him. He certainly didn’t care for it and if he had any way to have words with unfair magical shenanigans, he would’ve given it a piece of his mind. Instead, he nursed his sore ankle and made sure he was near his sister and Diego when the magic of the time stone sent them back.
He swayed in place, in the abandoned parking lot next to the train, trying to get his bearings. Serefin’s voice was like a compass, pointing him home.
“Is this where I pretend to have even the foggiest idea what time it is?” Jacob lifted a hand to block the sun in his eyes and got a good look at Serefin. His smile grew, relieved and a little giddy. He hobbled closer. “Not to sound painfully trite, but you are a sight for sore eyes.”
"You are assuming that I know what time it is," Serefin responded with an equally giddy grin, which faltered, briefly, at seeing Jacob's uneven gait. Serefin's steps were quick down the stairs and across the lot, eager to meet Jacob halfway. After ten days centuries apart, even this distance felt impossibly enormous.
His hands were on Jacob first, pressing into his chest, roaming down his side, attempting to be a crutch to help his sore ankle while also needing confirmation that he was real. Serefin knew how much wanting something could devolve into hallucinations of the worst kind, and his need to be with Jacob gnawed at him like hunger, edging into starvation. Was he allowed to look desperate after ten days?
Serefin's smile went a little crooked, playing at coy. "I could say the same about you. I had almost forgotten the sound of your voice. It is always the senses that start to go first, I was once told. I can't remember who told me, but—" He couldn't keep it up anymore. Serefin cut off his own ramblings by swiftly kissing Jacob. Better, this was better.
Pulling away too soon, Serefin added, "I took several cold showers in solidarity."
Jacob grabbed two handfuls of Serefin's shirt as he was inspected and he pulled him in the rest of the way when it seemed the rambling was coming to an end. He smiled into the kiss. Feeling warmed through, he ran his hands soothingly over every bit of Serefin that he could reach and pressed his face into Serefin's shoulder for a moment.
"Bollocks. That voice thing better not be true," he scowled, pulling back. "But I suppose I could just yammer your ears off until we're certain." He took Serefin's face in his hands, stroking his thumbs across his cheeks, and looked his fill. He really had missed this face. How alarming to discover he was in so deep that just seeing Serefin restored a balance he hadn't fully realized was so off-kilter.
"The shower thing's alright though," he smirked. "I'll make that one up to you. Probably still have dragon blood under my fingernails, if we're being honest. God knows what else."
"Slightly true, barely true, perhaps I had to say all your words out loud to pretend you were here. It is not the same however, I could never do you justice, and it only made me miss you more," Serefin said, with a soft huff, almost like embarrassment that he had gone through the trouble of trying to fill the gaps.
He couldn't help the pleased noise that came out of him as Jacob's hands were on his face. How needy he had become, how abruptly he had thought he couldn't get this back. No one claimed he wasn't dramatic, and if they stood here, outside the train just relearning the shape of one another, Serefin wouldn't complain. But the privacy of their shared space held a better allure.
"But you can yammer in my ear all you'd like. Especially about the dragon," Serefin said, tipping his head away, and pulling Jacob's hands down to examine them. "I am genuinely quite curious how you managed to get on one and then still..." His attention travelled down to Jacob's ankle, and back. "A much more exciting time than the days here. You would have been endlessly bored of being stuck."
He tugged Jacob toward the train, stepping backwards, his eye never left him. "Come, get off your feet for a moment before you start making things up to me."
“Oh, getting on was easy,” Jacob laughed, hooking an arm around Serefin’s shoulders. “It was the dismount I buggered up.” He could walk fine but he leaned on Serefin anyway. And if he nuzzled into Serefin’s hair, it was his own business. He unlatched himself at the ladder up into the train and took a second to examine the distance from ground to metal grating.
“Catch me if I go for a tumble here, alright?” With that, he grabbed onto the ladder rails and heaved himself up, hopping on one foot up the short set of rungs. He didn’t fall, but he did rest against the train next to the door. “We’re good, we’re golden. Now I can tell you about how incredible it is to hold onto a giant beast of death while it soars through the air. I mean, I missed you, desperately, but I can’t pretend that part of it was anything less than bloody unbelievable. I may never shut up about it.”
Serefin held up his hands dutifully in case Jacob did fall. He didn't think he would, but playing along with his ridiculousness was something that had been missing in these lonely days. Once the risk of a tumble was long gone, Serefin was a rung behind, stepping up to keep ushering Jacob inside.
"Ah, I would not tell you to shut up about it. In fact, you would win any argument. 'You may have done that but have you ridden a dragon?' Just do not tell them about the dismount. I doubt anyone wants to know what happens when you are no longer flying anyway," Serefin said, touching Jacob's cheek, charmed by his excitement. He was infectious in the best ways. His face went a little red—he'd claim it was flush from the wine he didn't actually have—at being told missed you desperately.
"This means I also get the privilege of telling everyone I know that I get to lay beside the man who was able to catch a ride on the beast. Truly, you have done all the work for both of us and I have much to live up to, should it—" Happen again, Serefin meant to say. Should they be separated by worlds or time or whatever was next.
It was an awkward pause before he continued. "If another one arrives here, I will expect a noble repeat so I can see for myself."
Jacob snickered. "The person I argue with the most is not at all impressed, love."
That probably wasn't entirely true; Evie might've been very impressed. He hadn't had the opportunity to annoy her with tales of his adventure on the dragon's back - one she'd very well witnessed, but he'd find time soon enough. Right now all he cared about was a shower and wrapping himself up in Serefin until that slightly haunted look left his eyes. He pulled Serefin into the bathroom with a grip that didn't leave a lot of room for debate.
"But I promise to act it all out for you once I've had a good scrub down and a nap. Want to help those very important steps to my recovery?" He waggled his eyebrows and took off a suspender and then the other one too. "You can tell me how things have gone here the last few days whilst we're at it."
Serefin did not have to be told twice. There was just a fumbling step as he was deftly pulled into the bathroom. He liked this tiny space, he had fond memories of being painfully obtuse about Jacob's feelings and his own in here. How far they had come that immediately stripping down was a common occurrence and not just to tend to wounds.
He made a small noise in the back of his throat, following Jacob's hands over his shoulders that were not free from the suspenders. Serefin took his time, tracing down Jacob's arms, over his chest, and to where his shirt was tucked in his pants. He tugged it free, while he said, "I played an absurd amount of Whist, which I still plan on claiming a game from you. I started to think I might be actually passable playing against beginners, but that also could have been the wine talking."
His hands slipped under Jacob's shirt, along his waist, everything warm and solid and good. "There may have been a situation with demons in the forest but nothing that couldn't be handled. However, I can now call myself the big guns." He lifted a hand briefly, wiggling his fingers in the air to indicate the stars, before he was back to undoing the buttons.
“Oh, we’ll have to test that later,” Jacob smirked. He was really only a slightly above average Whist player, but the urge to impress Serefin got a better game out of him always. Until it devolved into them distracting each other anyway. Serefin’s undressing him was the distraction right now and Jacob was more than happy to let it play out. But—
“Wait, wait. You fought demons?” He’d seen talk about it, but it had been after everything was seemingly more under control. He stepped back against the sink to give himself just a little more room to look Serefin over. “And how the Big Guns now?” It occurred to him that he could just see for himself and he reached for the bottom hem of Serefin’s henley and slipped his fingers underneath. “Take this off, yeah?”
"I admit that I was not completely sober when I agreed to join the others in the forest," Serefin said, and for once he felt slightly ashamed to confess this. One day his inebriated decisions might land him in worse situations or more dangerous ones, but care was something he often dismissed.
Serefin almost complained when Jacob stepped back, but then his hands were under his shirt, and he was asking to take this off, and Serefin moved without thinking, complying with the request. He pulled the shirt off and tossed it carelessly to the floor. Serefin was quick to crowd back into Jacob's space.
"It seems that there is a predilection for whatever the stars are to be incredibly efficient in taking out things that are demonic compared to the usual suspects of actual weaponry. They are incredibly efficient about taking out most things, I suppose, but—" Serefin hadn't used his new-old magic often enough to compare. "I cannot say for certain, only that I had an easier time than most in taking them down. Therefore, the big guns."
Now it was his turn, nodding his chin back to Jacob and his half-open shirt. "May I? I will start to second guess my state of undress if we are not evenly matched."
"Hm," Jacob made a displeased noise at the image of Serefin drunk and running around the forest with demons. God knew what else was out there. He watched Serefin's face for a long moment and had to content himself with the fact that Serefin was hale and whole and standing right in front of him. "Well, I'm happy to hear your new magic suits you. I hope it doesn't mean you'll make a habit of running off into the woods by yourself, though. Let people witness the big guns at work."
Leaning in, Jacob kissed Serefin soundly on the mouth and then stripped out of his shirt. He was bruised up from his tumble off the dragon, and stiff. It was nothing Serefin hadn't seen a dozen times over now, but he was dirtier than he'd been in a long while. He reached into the shower and turned the water on.
"We could've used some of that against the dragon. Nearly snapped my hidden blade off trying to get under its scales."
"Habit? No, no. It was that we were distinctly lacking the heroic types, and Vallo was left with me." That had been the problem, hadn't it? The running off alone, the using the magic without someone to truly witness it. It could have been a myth for how many times Serefin had mentioned it and how many times Jacob had not seen it. A small fear, perhaps, that it would work against him. Put Jacob in jeopardy somehow.
But that was another conversation, for another time. Jacob had kissed him, thoroughly, and Serefin immediately forgot his own name, let alone his train of thought. His hands were quick to reach for Jacob, now shirtless, and he pressed apologetically at the bruises. He wished he could take it away, but Serefin's magic didn't work like that anymore. Not really.
He hummed as he traced the rook tattoo, a particularly favorite part on Jacob's chest, a slow smile gathering across his face as steam started to fill the tiny bathroom. "And distract others from your valiant ride and attempted evisceration of the beast? I prefer hearing it from you instead." Serefin slid in to kiss Jacob, soft, and said, "It has been very lonely without you, towy nóżczko. I would like to show you how much I missed you now."
Jacob dipped his head to capture Serefin’s gaze with his own. “It didn’t leave you all by yourself, love,” he countered. He grazed the back of his hand up Serefin’s cheek and then threaded his fingers into his hair. After the last ten days, he wasn’t in any mood to argue but he did sound adamant when he added on a quiet plea. “Just asking you to keep someone at your back if I can’t be there.”
Not leaving room for any argument – especially with Serefin’s touch lighting up his nerve endings – Jacob returned the soft kiss with a lingering one of his own and slid the bathroom door shut without looking at it. His voice was warm and close as he reached for the button on Serefin’s trousers. “But we can bicker about that later. Show me how much you missed me and I’ll try to make up for my absence in all the ways I know how.”