Well, shit.

;; Aw. This one's so cute. I love it. Thank you for the request, as always. uwu ;;

--

Despite the moon hanging in the air, the stars that dotted the beautiful, endless black sky, Elliott found himself unable to sleep, tossing and turning before ultimately giving up and grumpily staring at the ceiling. He hated not being able to sleep, because it just meant he'd wake up looking awful the next day—he needs his beauty sleep, after all.

But there was a reason he wasn't able to sleep, and he knew it very well. Missing from his side was his boyfriend of two months, gone on some annoying trip the higher-ups made him go on. Park wasn't fond of leaving the complex—something about it made his anxiety flare up, and he doubts the other was getting much sleep without him either.

The trickster hated being alone in bed, that familiar little cold spot on his bed far too present. Normally, there was a slightly warmer thing taking up residence beside him, and he'd be quick to wrap his arms around him, shove his face in his neck, and fall asleep with the other beside him. He had tried grabbing one of the Nessie's from Park's room and cuddling with it instead, but it was awkward and he ultimately gave up.

Elliott sighed, looking over to his clock. It was only eleven, and he knew instantly that, even if Park was able to sleep, he wouldn't be in bed by now. In an act of slight desperation, he reached out for his phone, turned it on, and searched for the other's contact.

Rather than a simple call, he requested a video call, letting it ring with slight apprehension. He was aware of his lover's sleeping habits by now, but he could always be wrong. He might even be in a different time zone entirely—what if he was just bothering him? Now that he thinks about it, he might just be being a nuisance, and Park hated nuisances. He should probably hang up—

But he didn't get time to, because the video call was accepted, and Park was laying in bed, looking tired but happy to see him.

"Elliott," came the man's quiet voice, a small smile on his lips. "Isn't it a little late to be calling me?"

"Er—y-yeah, um, sorry about that. I-I just…"

"Couldn't sleep?"

"Yeah…"

Park nodded his head faintly, adjusting the blankets on top of him so they covered more of his body. They didn't look weighted like he preferred. "That's okay. Neither could I."

"I-I just wanted to call you—maybe ask about your trip, y'know? You didn't seem ecsl—axe—uh—ecstatic to go on it, and I wanted to know if you were, uh… at least having a good time."

He was slowly regretting his decision. Park looked so tired, like he could pass out any minute now. Elliott was usually the first to fall asleep, Park following right behind, but it looked like the tables might have been turned for tonight. He isn't too shocked—they're probably having him do meetings all day, and the other has the social battery equating to a tree.

"I'm not, but that much is usually obvious." Park shrugged, suppressing a yawn that threatened to bubble over. "Elliott, are you okay? You seem upset."

"W-What? Me? No way, love. I'm just a bit tired."

"… Something is definitely wrong. You don't usually call me 'love.' It's always some pet name." Park moved to sit up in bed, the blankets pooling around his waist now, messy bedhead on display for the world. "Elliott, I won't be sleeping for awhile now; you know that better than anyone. If you wanted me to talk with you for awhile, you only need to ask."

"I-I know, but you look so tired, baby. I don't wanna keep you up."

Park chuckled. "If anything, you might help me sleep a bit."

"Well… okay. Wanna talk about your trip so far."

"Honestly, if I have to go through one more meeting having to pretend I like these ass-kissers, I might jump out the nearest window."

And so Elliott listened to his boyfriend talk. It wasn't exactly the same as him being there with him, but it was enough. Park didn't want to talk much about his meetings, more so his ideas for improving on his drone, going on and on about perhaps trying to make it so his EMP charges faster, or even make his drone move quicker. He had explained that it was a bit tricky to get that all to become a reality, but he was still eager to discuss it with Elliott, who was slowly but surely beginning to feel tired, lulled to sleep by Park's voice.

And, eventually, he did fall asleep. The hacker had looked to his phone, silently requesting input, when he saw the trickster asleep, cheek shoved against his pillow and drool threatening to spill onto it. It made him smile, setting his phone down on his nightstand, video still on and propped against his lamp so he could still see the other.

So I just made a uquiz 👀if you feel like it, you should check it out even tho it’s sloppy and made at 2AM

Yeeha

So Revenant is gonna kill Loba with a single bitch slap bc Lobas friend turns into pickle, Artur comes and eats that pickle and Loba was distracted by seeing his friend eaten alive

And then Revenant is gonna give a birth to a Forges child and Forge comes back from dead by the power of dadhood and bc there's already enough legends with daddy issues

So forge is the new legend

And Forges and revenants child is the upcoming legend who we are gonna have to take care of in 5 different game modes. Sleep the baby, feed the baby, protect the baby, change baby diaper and take baby to school baby

On July 7th Revenant kills every other legend and the game name changes as "RevForg Baby Legends" and is just they 3 legends, Revenant, Forge and Jimmy jr

Prompt: Quit touching me, your feet are cold!

--

Matches that dragged on were far from favorable in Elliott's eyes. He hated it especially when Pathfinder and Octavio managed to secure a spot just out of reach by he and his teammates and the ring ended up favoring them instead. He hated it immensely, but there was little he could do, and they just ended up waiting it out until the ring killed them.

There was much to be said, but all Elliott wanted to do was curl up in his bed and go to sleep. Maybe for twelve hours. Maybe for a week. Maybe until the next year. Who knows? All he knows is that he wants to lay down with his beautiful, adorable, and incredibly prickly lover.

Park ended up being taken out about halfway through. Apparently, Natalie and Renee had been too busy doing whatever that they hadn't been watching after Park, a squad showed up, and he was taken out without issue. Renee managed to portal her and Natalie out of harm's way and ended up having to leave his banner.

To say he was absolutely livid was an understatement. Apologies were made, and Park wasn't one for holding grudges, but he was still pretty mad at them.

Upon entering his room, Elliott spotted the hacker taking up residence in his bed, a large, soft yellow blanket covering his shoulders, cocooned by warmth (or what little warmth provided), and watching something on his laptop. Frankly, Elliott couldn't ascertain what he was watching. He watched a lot of documentaries, a lot of cat videos, and soap carving ones. If he was especially bored, he'd sometimes look up tutorials on random things and participate. Elliott came in one day with origami all over the place.

He's just happy he isn't working on whatever it is he's so diligently working on. He deserved a break every now and then, but he tended to forget that a lot.

"Oh, my sweet angel-faced, uh… angel!" Elliott said, announcing his presence to Park, whose eyes rose to meet the trickster's. "So nice to see you all cozy in my favorite blanket."

"And nice to see you're still in a good mood, despite the last match."

Ah. So that's what he was watching. The holographic expert waved his hand about in nonchalance, approaching the bed before sitting down, bouncing a bit and causing the hacker to do the same.

"It sucked, but, hey, what can you do? Besides, I have the world's greatest boyfriend to make me feel all better." Rather than shifting over to where his cocooned lover sat, however, Elliott, instead, laid on his bed, back facing the other and pulling up one of the remaining blankets his boyfriend has yet to steal. "After a quick nap, though."

Park huffed in amusement. "You and I both know 'a quick nap' will be three to four hours."

Yet another hand raised to wave in a useless gesture before promptly falling back to where it was placed prior on the bed. "Details, details." A yawn. "We can talk about it after I wake up in an hour."

"Sure."

With that, the two lapsed into silence, Elliott's eyes falling shut and Park's focus returning to his laptop. The tapping of a keyboard was heard, so the trickster suspected he got bored of watching highlights from their last match and moved on to something else.

And, for awhile, it was nice, quiet. Normally, Elliott's endless talking would fill up the silence, and Park would listen and occasionally provide his own input, but there was none of that. It was just them, together, just enjoying having the other near, undisturbed by the slow spin of the universe.

Elliott had almost fallen asleep when he felt the other begin shifting, something sliding under the blanket and carefully pulling up his shirt.

"Mm… Babe, feelin' frisky…? Didn't know you had it in y—AH!"

It was not a hand, like Elliott had suspected, but, instead, his boyfriend's frigid fucking feet pressing against his warm as hell back. He couldn't exactly escape either, since he was close to the edge of the bed and Park's legs were long. The jerk also started laughing when he heard the startled noise from the other, and Elliott knew he wasn't sleepy anymore. In fact, he was wide awake, and unsure if he was pissed or not.

He immediately sat up, Park's feet retreating back under his own blanket, stifling his quiet giggles with a hand covering his mouth. His little shit of a boyfriend was the absolute worst.

"The worst. You're just the worst boyfriend ever," Elliott said, and Park knew, even if he said it, that it wasn't true. Dramatics were his strong suit, after all. "How can anybody's feet be that cold!?"

"Like this."

"Get your tiny, cold foot off my leg!"

Park's laugh returned, only for him to release a sound of surprise when he was suddenly being pulled by his leg onto his back, Elliott pouncing on him immediately. His laptop ended up being pushed elsewhere during the chaos, but neither seemed to care, too lost in each other's eyes.

"You're a menace. A cold menace!"

"Mmhm."

"But that's fine. All I have to do is cuddle you until you're warm."

"Wait—"

The hacker had very little room to escape now, what with the large mass atop him, encasing him in warmth.

"Ugh. You're heavy."

"It's the muscle, babe. All muscle. And my huge—"

"Don't. Don't say it."

"I was gonna say my huge heart. Gosh, babe, so perverted."

"…"

Elliott wasn't exactly surprised to feel the other's cold foot back on his bare skin, and, sure, he deserved it, but it was still cold and he didn't like it. Jokes on Park, though—he gets to hold his favorite popsicle, even if he's a big jerk that bullies his amazing, warm boyfriend.

Despite the cold foot being pressed against his back, the trickster still pressed his lips against Park's cheek, the hacker letting himself smile faintly at the contact.

"I love you, even if you have cold feet."

"And I've grown to tolerate you."

"You're a walking blizzard, babe. Good things blizzards are cool."

This is from an AU a friend (Chini) and I discuss every now and then and something I'm actually doing a series of (eventually, when I can manage the first chapter), but it isn't particularly obvious in this, but whatever !! I'm writing again and have inspiration so no bully!! No semantics!! ;;

--

The house was… dark. It was always dark. The only lights allowed on were ones with dim bulbs, and, even then, those sometimes weren't allowed. Elliott never minded. If his nocturnal boyfriend was asleep or off doing his own thing, he'd turn the lights on, open the curtains, and do whatever to bring a little light into the dark, gloomy abode Park and him called home.

Seeing as he was originally a thorn in the vampire's side and had hated his guts to the point of tossing everything out of his room and onto the lawn, he didn't like pushing his luck, even if they had slowly gotten closer, grown kinder, more open with one another. Elliott's opened up about his own life, and Park's relayed his long, tragic backstory. They were still fighting some demons, dealing with a darkness in their hearts that could only be fought alone. But after a long day of dealing with the loss and heartache, they have the other to help ground them.

Still, none of that stopped Elliott from being a little shit sometimes.

Park was centuries old, and Elliott wasn't a stranger to that. He's lived through a lot, and he's lost a lot, and he's experienced a lot. Still, weirdly enough, the human has far more experience in… certain matters pertaining to romantic endeavors. That was discovered one day when Elliott had placed his hands on Park's hips, trailed a few kisses down his neck, and, suddenly, he was gone—like he vanished into thin air.

Apparently, he's an absolute prude—a prudish vampire; can't make this stuff up—and has a habit of getting horribly flustered whenever Elliott makes provocative moves on him.

As the vampire had put it, older courting techniques had rarely gotten past "sensual handholding"—whatever the fuck that was. He's had a few lays, sure, but he's also been alive for five hundred years, give or take, so a few isn't much.

Elliott had called that hilarious.

Park had told him to go fuck a pillow.

It was an incredibly slow, painful process, and Elliott has had way too many run-ins with whatever wall Park was leaning on before he transformed into a bat and left his boyfriend to unknowingly bust his nose against, but they had eventually gotten to a point where the other didn't look like he was about to catch fire or transform and scurry off.

Elliott called it progress.

Park called it horny desperation.

Even with the amount of progress they made, Park had his moments, and Elliott loved taking advantage of them.

The vampire was currently in the kitchen, in the dark, indulging in Elliott's batch of brownies. Though he liked to deny it, he had a bit of a sweet tooth—vampires with sweet tooth's; can't make this shit up—and always snuck a few bites in, usually when he thought Elliott wasn't around.

Well, he was around, watching quietly from the kitchen doorway, smiling a devilish(ly handsome) smile, and slowly, carefully, made his way to the vampire's position. He had gotten past being startled easily, becoming accustomed to the sounds Elliott made and the warmth of his body, and the brunet was happy; he's had far too many memories of Park swinging his arm back and nearly breaking his nose. Bat boy had strength in those noodle arms.

With as much grace as he could manage, Elliott slid up behind his ethereal beauty and wrapped strong arms around his lithe waist. He momentarily tensed before relaxing.

"Elliott," came that smooch, rich voice of the other's, and—goodness, he could feel himself swooning. Too bad it was laced with minor irritation, otherwise he actually would've swooned.

"Hey there, beautiful," he whispered, pressing a kiss to the back of Park's neck. "Whatcha doin' there?"

"Minding my own business, unlike you."

"Aw, c'mon, sugar, you know you love me. Love me holding you close and whispering in your ear all kinds of nice things."

"You whisper euphemisms and dick jokes in my ear," the vampire muttered, trying his best to appear exasperated, but he was relaxing against Elliott's chest, so he was fighting a losing battle. "I think my opinion on the matter is obvious."

"You love it."

The vampire's shirt wasn't tucked into his pants like it normally was. Actually, he was opting for loungewear tonight—a large maroon sweater drowning his thin frame and black slacks hugging his legs just right. Elliott's nimble hands were able to slip beneath the apparel with ease, warm hands coming into contact with the other's frigid tummy.

There were a lot of things that startled Elliott when he first met Tae Joon. There was the weird skin color, the fangs, his ice-like temperature, having little to no weight, and the strange, glowing eyes. Sure, he should've expected at least half of those things, but the weight and temperature worried him. Park just explained that's how most vampires were: blood didn't provide protein and he couldn't generate any natural heat for himself. It was enough to quell any worries he may have, but he just made sure to provide warmth of his own.

Park tensed again at the hand on his stomach, slowly moving up, the fabric of his sweater shifting to accommodate the other. The familiar sensation of warmth, the other pressed so firmly against him from behind—and now he's beginning to whisper those obnoxious euphemisms in his ear, and—oh.

He… bit his ear.

Elliott was startled out of his little excursion after his boyfriend suddenly vanished (again) and was replaced by a screeching, angry bat that didn't appear too happy with the other's little scene.

"Okay, okay, calm down!" Elliott said, hands held up in a show of harmlessness, that he would do nothing to Tae Joon—well, not as a bat, at least. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to fluster you—w-well, I did, b-but not a bad fluster—I-I hope that wasn't a, um… bad fluster—"

The bat hisses before flying off into a little corner of the room, grabbing onto the ceiling with his tiny clawed feet, and hanging there with wings encasing his small body. Well… that's not good.

"Oh, my little fruit bat, come down! I'm sorry!"

A small huff left the bat, though there were no further actions. He knows how to appeal to the vampire's tastes, though. He was selective with what he liked, what made him happy. Most of it included Elliott himself, but, seeing as he was currently mad at him, so he's not sure just how well that'll work out.

Better than trying nothing, he supposes.

"Okay, look, if I promise not to embarrass you again, and I promise to do that thing you like so much, draw you a hot bath later, and get some sweet cuddles in, will you forgive lil' ol' me?"

For a moment, the bat seemed to actually consider the offer. His little eyes moved to look at his wings, thinking, before he suddenly dropped from the ceiling. Expertly, his wings came out, and he glided down before rapid flaps sent him towards Elliott. The man happily accepted the little creature with open arms, small claws gripping onto the t-shirt he was wearing.

With the creature secured, Elliott moved to their just as dark living room, though he allowed himself to turn on a lamp. It did little to light up the room, but at least he wasn't bumping into the table (again). He sat down on the nearest piece of furniture, which happened to be the loveseat, and allowed a gentle, tanned hand to place itself on Park's back. A content purr resonated from the small creature, and the human couldn't help but smile.

Park wasn't overly affectionate, especially when normal. He was always so weirdly awkward, never knew where to put his limbs and ending up shaming himself out of trying whatever he was doing. Elliott himself never seemed to care, but Park was just a bit of a mess when it came to these things. But, when he was a tiny, screeching menace, he seemed to calm down a lot more (weirdly enough), and forewent those awkward tendencies of his. He merely opted to lay against Elliott's shoulder, let his hand smooth over his back, and provide gentle, affectionate scratches.

For awhile, Park merely sat still, letting Elliott's hands warm and soothe him, but he eventually grew greedy and began moving up onto the other's shoulder, slipping under his shirt collar and nuzzling against his neck. The brunet let out a huff of laughter, reaching up to gently scratch his head, rewarded with content noises from the little creature.

"For a sour, rude vampire, you sure are a cutie pie." Elliott winced at the hiss he received, suddenly realizing that there was a vampire next to his neck. "Okay, sorry! I love you! You're the cutest, sweetest bean! Wouldn't hurt a fly! No, sir, I've met a few vampires in my day, and none of them hold a candle up to you! I love you! So much!"

(Doing them both now cause I don't wanna be a scab. Show content creators some love)

It's late. Above him, the sky is inky black and spotted with stars. He thinks he's been here for hours. The hollow of his chest is starting to ache with the cold. She would have his head for that if she were here. She'd scold him and make him move, telling him he'll catch his death if he doesn't. He lifts his knees and lowers his wrists upon them. She's not here. She'll never be here again. The stars are beautiful overhead, and he knows he's going to sit here all night if he lets himself, even though it's dangerous. He could get sick, breath frozen in his lungs, blood running through his veins like ice, dying up here in the body of a liar. It might not be so bad.

Below him on the street he sees a familiar face. He forgets her name, he suspects out of guilt as she hurries along, clutching a jacket tightly around her frame, head bowed against the wind that has begun to pick up. She's not a fighter, she works in the tech department, and helps to fix all their little toys. Fern, he thinks. Maybe Francis.

She was nice. She was clever and she spoke in a warm voice and her laughter was pretty. She would place a hand in his arm and say his (fake) name all the time and he was so happy not to be alone that of course he hadn't realised until she had asked him out.

He'd fumbled and handled it badly and now his drones are sent down to the lab without him now.

He gets it. Of course he does. He's never been overly taken with his own appearance but the Man of Mystery persona he has been forced to implement is certain to get a few motors running. She'd been so cool about it, too, it was just a coffee, not a marriage proposal, and his exile is one all of his own. It is jealousy. Jealousy that he doesn't have the same kind of courage to just ask, to see if what he feels could lead somewhere and know for sure, so his feelings have festered into dangerous things, things that could break him if prods so he leaves them well alone.

As if summoned by his thoughts, Elliott opens the door behind him. They're friends now, good friends, almost best friends because Tae Joon can't stop doing things that slowly kill him, it seems.

"Thought I might find you up here," Elliott says. Tae Joon waits for him to tell him to move, but instead Elliott produces a thick wollen blanket and drapes it around Tae Joon, a flask of something hot being set on the ground beside him. Then Elliott sits without invitation, legs crossed, and leans back on his gloved hands to look at the stars.

Tae Joon wants him to talk. Part of his attraction has to do with the fact that Elliott's voice is calming and constant, a distraction, yes, but in another way... not. He forgets about one pain only to be reminded of another, and that's what his life has become as he chooses which agony is easier to live with.

He shivers, his hands curl into the blanket and he feels Elliott's shift closer, an arm across his shoulders. He feel the soft breath of Elliott's laugh at his temple.

"Yeah, I know, but you'll freeze if I don't," Elliott's says, not entirely without awkwardness. He has a reputation, and being here on this roof with his arm around another guy under a starlit night would make it take a serious hit.

If he knew, Tae Joon thinks, and the body around his feels cheap and a violation, because he doesn't know. He doesn't have a clue. It never even occurred to him to wonder about all the times he caught Tae Joon staring, the way Tae Joon leaves the room when he starts to talk about his latest hook up, the fact that for every inch Elliott closes between them, Tae Joon takes a whole step back.

Tae Joon pulls away, heart breaking, and Elliott sees the tears in his eyes and his whole body goes rigid. He doesn't know how to handle that, he's not used to people having those kinds of emotions around him. There's a reason he's surrounded himself with lust and hero worship - he's had enough of watching other people cry.

"You ok buddy?" he tries with a nervous laugh.

Tae Joon looks away, embarrassed, scrubbing the tears from his eyes frantically. "I'm sorry." It's the first time he's spoken in hours and the words are broken and quiet. "Just a bad day."

He knows that Elliott can understand that at least. He feels Elliott's hand suddenly against his cheek, fingers frozen from the cold and he turns back. Elliott looks so concerned, so sorry, and Tae Joon swears he sees love there. Maybe he does. Maybe being raised surrounded by men has taught him not to say it, but of course Elliott loves his friends, just like everyone else does. He takes a risk and leans in a little closer, but nothing too bold.

Elliott's shoulders drop as Tae Joon forces himself to smile. "I'm fine."

The hand falls away from his cheek and Elliott stands up, offering a hand to Tae Joon. "It's no excuse for frostbite," he says sternly. "Don't want anything important to drop off."

Tae Joon laughs because that's what Elliott wants to hear, and Elliott grabs the flask and trips on the blanket and in one awful, terrible move, the universe plunges him straight at Tae Joon, who catches him because it feels like that was what he was made to do.

Elliott's a little lower down, leaning against Tae Joon and all he would have to do is dip his head and their lips would meet, frozen under the stars and Elliott's still not moving away.

He kisses Elliott.

Elliott scrambles up and away after just a second, and he's backing off like Tae Joon is some wild animal, a hand held out in front of him to keep them apart, his eyes wide in panic. Tae Joon has badly gotten it wrong.

"I- I'm sorry, I didn't-" The words fall out before he can stop them and he steps forward, only to feel it like knives when Elliott steps back.

"No... no, it's my fault," Elliott insists. He looks suddenly wretched. "I mean, cosy blankets and cuddles under the stars. What the hell were you supposed to think?" He opens the door that leads down into the building. "I just... I didn't know. I'm sorry."

a horse:

--

Elliott loved the spotlight. He loved all eyes on him. He loved the praise and the adoration. Hell, he was even okay with the occasional creepy love letter from an especially enamored fan (ones he usually tore up and tossed out before his boyfriend ever saw them; he looked cute with a blush, but he probably didn't appreciate those being sent to him constantly. Out of sight, out of mind, as they say).

His boyfriend, however, was not.

It didn't take a genius to figure out that Park hated any attention he received from the public. He hated eyes on him. He hated empty compliments from people trying to get into his pants. He especially hated the more obsessed fans that sent him letters, explaining in detail on what they wanted him to do to them.

Again, he looked cute with a blush, but they decided Park wasn't opening any fan mail himself.

However, Park didn't only hate attention—he also just hated being outside in general, in public. Perhaps it had to do with their status, or it was merely introverted tendencies, but getting the hacker to leave his room and go on a date was sometimes a hassle.

"People are going to take pictures of us. You know I hate that."

"You were almost mugged last time. I'd feel safer if that wasn't a factor."

"I hate the sun."

Elliott loved his boyfriend—more than anyone could love anything, if he's being honest—but he just really wanted to hold hands in public. He respected Park's boundaries, though, and made sure he was comfortable with everything he did. He'd rather not have to calm him down after an anxiety attack again.

Today, however, was a rainy day. People were on the streets, either rushing to get home or two work, with cars occasionally driving by, splashing rainwater onto unsuspecting passersby. Elliott happened to be one of those passerby, and the bottoms of his pants were soaked. It got a quiet laugh out of the man beside him, so he decided it was worth it.

The umbrella held up over them shielded the couple from the raindrops, the thrum of small droplets hitting the material a pleasant and soothing sound. Park was always so fond of walking in the rain—said it reminded him of simpler times. He recounted times he ended up sick from it, though, and Elliott took note to make sure he's warm and dry when they get home. He had always spoke so fondly of the memories, though, even the ones that made his voice shaky and quiet.

Elliott adjusted the position of the umbrella he was holding, making sure Park was underneath it. He had a habit of drifting away from the other, and, since he was the taller of the two, he was on mandatory umbrella duty.

The trickster himself was actually quite fond of the rain as well. Not only was it just nice to listen to, it was… pretty, in a way. It was relatively cold whenever it splashed his warm skin, and the strange smell that always lingered around—it was all so strangely comforting. Not to mention it was the only time Park and him went on walks, and the only other time he allowed his hand to be held. Elliott suspected it was because he got cold, but Park insisted otherwise.

His hand felt always felt so delicate in his own, despite the strength behind it. There was something in Park that was always ready to shatter at any given moment, and he always made it so that never happened. He'd wrap tape around every crack, glue every piece back together, and hold it all from falling apart with his will alone. Everyone had their breaking point, and he was no different, but Elliott knew, if he wanted anyone to be there when it happened, he'd want it to be the only man he's ever cared so much for.

"Y'know," Elliott said, having to raise his volume over the rain pouring around them, "they say a well-executed joke can make even the coldest, most joke-repulsed person laugh."

"Really?" the hacker responded, raising a brow. His other half had a habit of getting into strange conversations. He didn't mind, though; he liked the extra noise.

"Oh, totally! They also say it's all in the delivery! If you're telling a joke with just a boring, bland tone, you won't get any laughs."

They were beginning to walk through a park now. It was vacant, no laughing children or adults in sight. It was just them, taking their time and listening to the beat of the universe.

"But what if the joke calls for 'boring and bland'?"

"Oh, babe, that's what we call your type of humor."

There was momentary silence before the hacker'a hand slipped out of Elliott's. The trickster looked over, worried he actually offended the other, before Park yanked the umbrella to the side, still covering him but baring Elliott to the elements. The raindrops were large, heavy, so even a few falling on him was enough to wet his curls and his shoulders.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Let me back under!"

Easily, he could pull the umbrella upright, but he'll let Park have this little bit of revenge. He's the one that has to deal with getting kissed by the wet trickster anyway.

"Hmm…" the surveillance expert hummed, long and contemplative, before he moved the umbrella to resume covering both he and the other. "Fine. But I expect apology brownies."

"I knew you liked my baking."

"I never said that."

"Liar. Just admit you like my brownies."

"No."

Elliott huffed out a laugh, stopping suddenly, which caused the smaller male to stop as well to avoid stepping into the rain.

"Remember earlier, when I mentioned well-executed jokes being good enough to get some people to smile?"

Park hummed, nodding faintly. "Yes, I remember."

"Well, I got a real knee-slapper for you, sugar cake."

The hacker shrugged. "Lay it on me, then."

"Cool!" Elliott took a deep breath and looked at the other, a strangely wide smile gracing his handsome features. "Knock, knock."

"A knock-knock joke? That's a little… unoriginal."

"Knock, knock."

"Fine. I'll play along. Who's there?"

"Marry."

"Marry who?"

Park didn't have much time to react, Elliott suddenly dropping the umbrella to the side and fallkng to one knee, pulling a small black box from his jacket and presenting a ring to the hacker. Neither seemed to care much that they were getting wet now.

"Marry me?"

For a moment, Park was speechless. Well, how was he supposed to react? Was… Was he supposed to say something? Perhaps the prolonged silence was bad, because Elliott's confidence was appearing to waver now, smile slowly diminishing and brows knitting together. But he still couldn't speak, even when he opened his mouth.

He was lucky it was raining, otherwise Elliott would've seen his tears, the warmth a stark contrast to the cold droplets sliding down his face.

The trickster suddenly rose, closing the box and gathering the other's hands in his own.

"H-Hey, honey cake? You—You with me there? I-I didn't, um—n-no, I did, b-but you don't have to say yes! O-Or you don't have to say anything! At all! Not a w-word! I-I fucked up—I-I'm so sorry! I was planning to be all r-romantic and sweep you off y-your feet in the rain, b-but I just—just messed that up, too. I'm so, so, so—"

Elliott was suddenly cut off by Park's lips making contact with his own, a brief exchange of warmth, before he pulled away, those hazel optics shining with tears, endearment dancing in those warm eyes. Even when he was soaked to the bone, cold and beginning to shiver, he looked breathtaking, such a beautiful smile curling those perfect lips.

He didn't say anything, but he didn't have to. Elliott had his answer.

—;;

"I wish you hadn't dropped the umbrella like that," Park said, allowing the towel in Elliott's hands to dry his soaked hair, already changed into dry clothes, hopefully enough to avoid any fevers.

"It was supposed to be romantic!" Elliott huffed, throwing a look to the drone watching their little activity. "Ungrateful, am I right?"

The drone merely beeped in reply.

"If I get sick, I expect more than just brownies."

"You'll get a whole damn bakery, sugar lips." The trickster pulled the towel away, pressing a kiss to the other's messy hair. He only got a content hum in reply. "Hey, uh… Hyeon?"

"Hm?"

"Uh… Can… Can I just… N-Never mind—it's dumb."

"Elliott."

"… Yeah?"

"Tell me. I won't think it's dumb."

"Can… I just… wanna hear you say… say your answer."

Park was silent for a moment before an amused huff left him. He reached behind him, gently wrapping his hands around Elliott's neck, and pulled him down to kiss his cheek.