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Varka tends to stream every Monday and Thursday night. It’s a nice way to unwind after a long day, and he’s had his schedule set in place for years now. At around 7, he boots up his computer and monitor to get the stream all set up; he streams until around 10, sometimes playing games, sometimes just chatting. His fanbase— who have affectionately dubbed themselves the Knights— never seem to have a preference as to what he does on his streams, so the choice is largely up to him.
Tonight he’s doing a little Minecraft— he hasn’t logged onto his world for a while, and there are some things he’d like to do. Make a farm, for instance. He’s shit at redstone, but a simple farm that he can tend to by hand should be simple enough. If he can find carrots, that is.
“I swear I had some,” he sighs, staring forlornly at his carrot-less inventory. “Does anyone remember if I ate them?”
His chat speeds up. Half of them are saying yes, and the other half are saying no. Varka snorts. “Thanks, guys. Oh, well. I guess I’ll just plant some wheat for now, and we can get the carrots later. I want to get a pig, that’s why.”
cavalrycaptain (MOD): what about the horses
cavalrycaptain (MOD): grandmaster i’m still waiting for my horses
“I’ll get the horses too, yeah,” Varka says as he plants the wheat. “Hell, I’ll get nine or ten. I have to build something for them, though. Like a pen, or something.” Actually, maybe he can get started on that tonight, after the farm is done. He can use… oak? What kind of wood would look best? Not that he’s good at designing things in this game— his house is still half dirt.
He pauses the game briefly to grab a sip of water, and he takes the opportunity to catch up on his chat. It’s sped up a whole lot. Varka squints, trying to read a single one of the messages flying by, and catches a few that feel like vague screaming.
Finally he manages to read one. “‘Is that a… serial killer?’ What?” Varka frowns. “Chat, what are you—”
He looks at his camera on his second monitor and screams out loud.
“Barbatos, fuck—” Varka swivels around in his chair, one hand over his heart. “You scared me!”
“My apologies. That was not my intention,” says his roommate, with a slight smile that tells Varka that it was 100% his intention. “Your house looks lovely, by the way.”
His half-dirt house? Varka grins, lowering his headphones around his neck before crossing his arms. His heartbeat has not calmed down at all, but his roommate can be damn scary when he just hovers like that. “Right? I’d say I’m somewhat of an architect myself.”
Flins laughs. He has this soft little laugh that Varka has never quite been able to get over, even though he’s heard it countless times now. If he could get drunk on it he would.
“Quite the architect indeed,” Flins agrees. “I particularly like your, ah, windows.”
Yes, windows. Varka remembers those. He’s pretty sure they’re just blocks of dirt he’d removed sporadically from his walls.
“Did you need something?” Varka says, remembering suddenly that there must be a reason why Flins is here and dressed in his long black coat, like he’s about to go outside. “Oh, and I’m live, by the way.”
“I know,” says Flins. “I am about to go to the store. Is there anything you would like?”
Varka blinks at him. “You’re going shopping at 8 PM?”
“Do you remember the antiques shop nearby? I remembered they have a sale ending today. I would quite like a coin.”
Typical Flins. Varka can’t help the fond grin that crosses his face. He can already imagine Flins coming home with the coin tucked safely in his pocket, looking as satisfied as a magpie. They might need to find more space for his collection soon, but that’s an easy fix with a shelf and some nails.
“Show me it later, will you?” Varka says. Flins nods, giving him a pleased little smile, and Varka continues, “If you want to pick up a bottle of dandelion wine, I wouldn’t say no.”
“And will you be roping me into drinking this one with you as well?” Flins teases.
“Aww, c’mon.” Varka gives Flins his most charming smile. “It’s always more fun to drink with you.”
Flins’ mouth twitches. “You flatter me. Then, in that case, some dandelion wine I shall purchase.” He steps back, his gaze flicking to the monitor where Varka’s chat is racing by.
Oh, fuck, his chat. Varka completely forgot about them. Are they being weird? Normally they’re pretty chill, but they have their moments, as Varka is all too aware. He glances at Flins, an apology already on his tongue—
But Flins simply clasps a hand over his chest and bows towards the monitor. “I wish you all a good evening,” he murmurs, all smooth and polite. “I commend you on your taste.”
Varka blinks. “What does that mean?”
Flins drifts away like a fairy and Varka resists the urge to reach out and tug on the long, dark strands of his hair. “I will see you later, Varka,” he says. There’s a clear note of amusement in his voice.
“Wait—”
But Flins has already sailed out of Varka’s room, clicking the door shut behind him.
For a moment Varka sits there, feeling a bit like he’s a teenager again and sitting in history class, staring down at his complicated textbook. Then, he shakes his head and turns back to his stream. “Sorry, guys,” he says as he puts his headphones back on. “That was…”
He trails off as he finally manages to read the chat. They’re all spamming the same word, even his mods.
cavalrycaptain (MOD): wow, grandmaster, you never told us you have a boyfriend
Well, fuck.
---
Here’s the thing about Varka. Well— it’s more of a problem, really. The Problem is that Varka is kind of, sort of hopelessly in love with his roommate.
In his defense, he hadn’t planned on it. Flins was a nice, sensible guy offering a nice place to live for reasonable rent, and at first that’s all it was. Sometimes they went out for dinner together, sometimes they went for groceries together, but nothing more.
Then there was that very first bottle of dandelion wine, cracked open on the couch and poured into two glasses. That night, Varka learned that Flins held his alcohol extremely well, maybe even better than Varka himself. They got tipsy on the couch and Varka learned that Flins looked stunning with a faint flush on his pale cheeks.
That was the first sign, he thinks. After that, it started piling up like paperwork— little observations that stuck in his mind and wouldn’t shake loose. The way Flins’ magpie instincts seemed to activate as soon as he saw an old gem. The way he was the picture of geniality and politeness, but so good at teasing people. His strange love of fish, his dark hair that faded to pale blue at the tips and looked soft as hell. His smile, his laugh. More than once Varka’s thought that he’s a bit like one of those fae in children’s books— pretty, polite, and mischievous. He’s not nearly as dangerous as those fae, but the slight point to his ears certainly support Varka’s theory.
It was the first time Varka wondered what those ears would feel like beneath his touch that he realized— oh.
Well, fuck.
---
“Guys, he’s not my boyfriend, okay? We’re roommates, that’s all. He’s usually at work on the days I stream, but last week he had time off.”
Varka is rambling a bit, but he needs to set the record straight. He and Flins aren’t together, or anything. They just live together. Varka moved into this city a year ago, decided to save money by finding a roommate, and he’d ended up hitting it off with Flins. They get along amazingly, but they’re not together together.
He clears his throat. A glance at the camera confirms he isn’t blushing, which is good. “Anyways, yeah. He’s just my roommate.”
secretstrawberry: what kinda roommate looks at u like that
rosewitch: My, and here I thought he was flirting~
faeselings: grandmaster you lucky man
Well, honestly, he does count himself very lucky to have landed a roommate like Flins. Varka’s lived with all sorts of people, and Flins is by far his best experience as of date. He’s tidy, easy to get along with, and all his little quirks— like his ever-expanding collection of random coins and gems, or his slightly creepy tendency to stand in shadows and scare people— are just that. If anything, Varka likes them about him. He likes seeing the way Flins’ eyes light up when he adds a new something to his collection, or how he’ll sometimes find his roommate in the kitchen at 3 AM, eating salmon off an otherwise pristine plate. He just likes seeing Flins, really.
Varka returns his attention to the game he’s playing— Minecraft again. His chat seems to have settled down, but just to be safe, he asks for advice on making his horse ranch. His mods set up a poll for the viewers to vote on what kind of wood he’ll use, and he leans back into his chair to wait for the results.
“I don’t know, guys, I think that dark wood would be the best,” he says. “I mean, what kind of wood goes best with dirt?” He reads a comment aloud. “‘Day 51 of asking Varka to update his house’. Listen, I think it’s perfectly fine the way it is! I mean, look at it.” He swivels the in-game camera to show his house in all its dirt glory. “Have you ever seen something so beautiful?”
“Your eyes, perhaps?”
“Woah, fuck— holy Barbatos, Flins.” For the second time in less than a week, Varka turns to see Flins standing behind him, the very picture of innocence with his smile and his hands clasped in front of him.
Varka can’t even be upset. He grins and says, “Is this going to be a trend?”
“Perhaps,” Flins replies lightly. “Does it disturb you?”
“No, not at all.” Varka doesn’t think he could ever be upset about getting to spend more time with Flins. “Wanna sit down?”
“Where? You have no other chairs.” Flins’ eyes flick to his legs and Varka quickly glances down, making sure there are no errant stains or wrinkles on his pants.
“You could grab the chair from your room,” Varka suggests. “Or one of the barstools from the kitchen.”
After a pause, Flins shakes his head. “No, it’s alright. I can watch from here.” He bends over, peering intently at the screen like a cat intrigued by a bird, and oh, Varka is not Barbatos’ strongest soldier. From this angle he can clearly see the curve of Flins’ eyelashes, the cute way his ear tapers into a slight point. He can’t help it— he stares, drinking in the view, until Flins glances sidelong at him.
Varka jumps. “Oh, uh— do you want me to show you to play?”
“I fear I am not well versed in video games,” Flins says. Varka grins— understatement of the century. For how smart he is, Flins is comically bad at anything tech-related. Varka’s not even sure he knows what a Minecraft is.
“Nah, ‘s alright,” he replies. “Come here and I’ll show you. The horse ranch can wait.”
Flins hesitantly sets his fingers on the keyboard. Varka quickly takes Flins’ hand in his own and adjusts his positioning. For a second— just a brief second— he debates flattening his palm, threading their fingers together and squeezing. Flins’ hand would fit so perfectly into his own. But they’re on stream and he doesn’t want to make Flins uncomfortable, so he tamps down the urge. Carefully, he puts Flins’ hand in the right spot. “There. Now you can try moving.”
Varka’s avatar in-game inches slowly forward, then to the side. Varka moves the mouse to pan the camera, and his avatar begins to walk towards the house.
“Is there a way to fish in this game?” asks Flins.
“Yeah,” Varka laughs. “Yeah, there is. Want me to show you?”
“If you’d please,” Flins says. “And, of course, if it does not bother your viewers.”
cavalrycaptain (MOD): oh, do stay. i’m curious
grandmastersclaymore: STAY STAY STAY
secretstrawberry: please stay i can get so much intel from this
soulblazer: ngl an “i teach my roommate how to play minecraft” stream sounds fun
rosewitch: Of course you can stay, darling~
barsiabots: “roommate”
Varka snorts. “Wow. I don’t think you guys have ever been that excited for me.”
“Nonsense, sir knight. Your presence attracts everyone,” Flins says, looking up at Varka from beneath his eyelashes. He does that sometimes, except it always makes Varka’s brain short-circuit and his mouth spit out something stupid. Like—
“‘Sir knight’? Like I’m a knight? But I don’t have armor.”
Flins’ mouth twitches. “You call yourself Grandmaster.”
“Oh. Right.”
He really needs to pull his shit together and stop looking like a brainless fool in front of the world’s prettiest man.
secretstrawberry: that look hello??
queenofsummer: wait omg “sir knight” i kind of love it
faeselings: …
deacon: so are we sure about the whole roommate thing
cavalrycaptain (MOD): it’s not good to lie, grandmaster
Varka blinks. “What are you talking about? I haven’t lied about anything.” He glances back at the screen, where his character is ambling towards the water. “Here, let me equip the fishing rod for you.”
It takes a bit of teaching, but the look on Flins’ face when he reels in his first fish is worth it. Varka leans back in his chair, something warm and pleased settling in his chest, as he lets Flins use the rod to fish. “Remind me to show you Animal Crossing, too. You can fish there as well.”
“How fascinating,” says Flins. He sounds genuinely delighted. Straightening, he steps back from the camera, his hands clasped behind his back. “Thank you, Varka.”
“Aw, c’mon, no need,” Varka replies, grinning at him. “You like it?”
“I do,” Flins agrees, his smile faint but warm, and Varka’s already debating a time where he can sit down and show Flins how to put fish in buckets, just to see that smile again.
---
Knights of Favonius
kaeya: hey grandmaster have you checked your socials
kaeya: everyone’s doubting you
What?
amber!!: Yeah they’re saying you’re lying
amber!!: about your boyfriend
amber!!: (._.)
But he’s not my boyfriend
kaeya: sure he isn’t
I’m serious he isn’t
Jean: It’s not that bad, Varka. Kaeya is being dramatic.
Jean: They are mostly jokes.
kaeya: hey now
kaeya: anyways, i was just letting you know
kaeya: but really, you should get a move on
kaeya: guys like him don’t show up every day ;)
He’s not interested though
It’s fine
kaeya: … sure
---
He and Flins sometimes go together to the bar downtown, the one called The Flagship. Usually it’s at the end of the week, on a day both of them can get home somewhat early from work. The Flagship’s loud and usually packed, but they have some damn good drinks. It’s not like Varka’s a stranger to drinking in crowded places, anyways.
Tonight it’s cold— perfect weather for some alcohol. Varka wears his thick, fur-lined coat, and Flins is in his usual black jacket. The buckles clink when he walks, and sometimes the ends of his hair get snagged in the chain that circles around the back. Varka, walking behind him, instinctively reaches out to untangle his hair.
The strands slide between his fingers, silky smooth. Flins glances over his shoulder and says, “Thank you.”
Varka quickly snatches his hand back, trying not to flush. “Oh, uh, no problem.”
He wishes he could put his hand back. Flins’ hair is so soft and he wants to rub it between his fingers, feel it cascade across his palm. He wants to braid it, if Flins would let him. Not that his roommate would, in part because Varka doesn’t have a damn clue how to braid someone’s hair, but— still. He’d learn for Flins.
Inside the Flagship, Varka orders firewaters for them both. They clink their glasses and tip them back, and Varka soon gets roped into a conversation with the man next to him. They’re laughing over Varka’s third beer when he spots Flins, standing over in the corner. There’s a guy leaning into his space, saying something to him. Varka can’t see the other guy’s face, but Flins’ smile looks somewhat forced.
Something like jealousy twists tightly in Varka’s stomach. He excuses himself from the conversation and stands up, making his way over to Flins. As he gets closer he hears the other guy say, “C’mon, let me buy you a drink.”
“Ah— you flatter me, but I’m afraid I must decline,” says Flins, laughing. He makes it sound lighthearted, but Varka has known Flins long enough to tell when he’s being genuine. The thing about his roommate is that Flins, gentleman that he is, can never tell anyone no outright— and so Varka has learned to read the tells that give away his discomfort. Like the way his fingers twitch against his leg, restless.
“Why?” says the other man, sounding upset.
Flins opens his mouth. His eyes land on Varka, who reaches out to grab the man by the shoulder and tell him to leave him alone—
Only for Flins to instead snatch his arm and lay his hand in the crook of Varka’s elbow. “I’m actually here with him,” Flins nearly purrs. His head tilts to press against Varka’s shoulder, and Varka freezes. Heat rises to his cheeks. Whatever words he was about to say die on his tongue, and he’s left standing there, staring at Flins like an idiot.
Which perhaps works out in their favor, because he would have undoubtedly fucked up the whole facade by opening his mouth.
The guy blinks, looking taken aback. “Oh,” he mutters. “Uh. Sorry about that, then.”
He vanishes into the crowd, and Varka finally finds his tongue. “What was that?”
“I believe he was attempting to proposition me with drinks,” says Flins. He lifts his head but does not release Varka’s arm. Remorsefully, he continues, “I fear I am no longer in the mood to drink.”
“Oh. That’s alright,” Varka says. The ugly jealousy has settled— thankfully, because it’s not like he should even be getting jealous, considering he and Flins aren’t together or anything— but suddenly he doesn’t really want to stick around here any longer.
“Or, rather, I suppose I should say I am no longer in the mood to drink here.” Flins blinks up at him through his long lashes. Tonight he’s put on his usual dark eyeshadow, and it makes the yellow of his eyes stand out even more. “Perhaps we could share some dandelion wine at home?”
Varka’s heart thumps harder in his chest. “Sure,” he croaks, trying to sound normal.
Flins tugs at him, and it’s only then that Varka realizes— Flins never let go of his arm. Anyone looking at them would think they’re together, and that…
He remembers, very suddenly, what Kaeya had said, about his streams and Flins’ appearance. But that’s just a ridiculous notion. Varka may be hopelessly in love with his roommate, but there’s no way his viewers would know that. What reason would they have to think he and Flins are dating? Sure, Flins is holding his arm now, but that’s just to scare the other guy off. There’s nothing deeper to it.
And still Flins doesn’t remove his hand, and Varka doesn’t tell him to. If his gorgeous roommate wants to keep holding onto his arm, Varka sure as hell isn’t going to say anything. He calls a taxi to get them home, and they stand in peaceful silence, waiting.
“Your coat is very warm,” Flins says after a few minutes. His fingers flex against Varka’s elbow.
“Yeah, it is,” Varka replies. “It’s great for weather like this.”
“It must be nice to wear.”
Varka has a brief, unbidden thought of Flins wearing his jacket. Flins is not a short guy, but Varka is taller than most people he knows, and broader in the shoulders as well. His jacket would not fit at all; it would hang off of Flins’ shoulders and the sleeves would reach past his wrists.
He’d look cute in my jacket, Varka thinks. Too bad Flins would never wear it. But it wouldn’t hurt to just— throw the idea out there, would it?
“Yeah,” he says, shoving his free hand into his pocket. “If you ever need it, you can borrow it. I won’t mind.” He would do the opposite of minding, in fact.
“Oh?” says Flins. “I shall take that into consideration.”
Varka can’t decipher his tone. Is that an “I will”, or a “Thank you for your disgusting offer”?
He panics a little. Trying to backtrack, he stammers, “Only if you want to, of course.”
Flins smiles at him. “Oh, I would be delighted. I just don’t want you going cold, that’s all.”
“I don’t get cold easily,” is what Varka wants to say. But their taxi pulls up to the curb, and Flins is letting go of his arm to open the door and greet the driver. A little dazed, Varka reaches up to touch the spot where Flins’ fingers just were. He wishes Flins hadn't let go.
---
The next time Varka plans on streaming Animal Crossing, he asks Flins if he would like to join. His roommate agrees, and so they set up a second chair at Varka’s desk. The spacing means that Flins’ leg presses lightly against Varka’s own; Varka tries not to fixate on that point of contact as he starts the stream.
Once people have begun to flood in, Varka gives the camera a wave. “Hey, everyone. We’re doing Animal Crossing today, and my roommate wanted to join.”
cavalrycaptain (MOD): oh?
faeselings: ROOMMATE STREAM!
queenofsummer: MYSTERIOUS NAMELESS ROOMMATE!!
gothsandbutterfly: omg roommate??
soulbazer: it’s the roommate!
rosewitch: My, my~
chickeansw: why is the roommate actually fine tho
“Oh, dear. It seems I’ve forgotten to introduce myself. How rude of me,” Flins muses, his lips curving into a smile. He stands up just to give the camera a little bow. “Greetings, everyone. You all may call me Flins. I am—” he pauses, and Varka sees something glitter in his eyes— “Varka’s roommate, as you might say.”
Varka chuckles. “Why’d you phrase it like that?”
“Oh, no reason,” Flins says as he sits back down.
faeselings: the bow omg
cavalrycaptain (MOD): wow.
barsiabots: i cant anymore
chickeansw: grandmaster you lucky man
“Anyways,” says Varka, “you all better be nice to Flins.” They’ve talked about this beforehand, but Varka still wants to make sure his roommate is comfortable. “You can ask questions, but he’s under no obligation to answer, got it? We’re playing Animal Crossing anyways.”
“You will show me how to fish?” Flins asks.
Varka laughs, hopelessly fond. “Yeah, of course. Let me boot it up.”
It quickly devolves from “show Flins how to play Animal Crossing” to “watch Flins fish alongside the viewers”. They seem to love his roommate, to the point where it’s practically become Flins’ stream, and Varka can’t even blame them. He is all too aware of Flins’ charms.
Occasionally, between showing Flins a feature in the game, he reads questions from the chat. Flins answers them all easily— he does like fish, yes; he is a mortician; his favorite color is blue. The chat gets him going on a ten minute long rant on ancient coins, nothing Varka hasn’t heard before, but he still listens intently. Flins always lights up when he’s talking about his collection, and— not for the first time— Varka finds himself itching for a camera, something he could use to capture the expression on his roommate’s face and preserve it forever. He always hated lectures when he was still in school, but he could listen to Flins talk all day.
“ — and that is why I simply find them fascinating.” Flins hooks in another fish. “Varka, should this one go to… what did you call him?”
“Blathers? Yeah, I can give it to him later,” Varka says. He glances at chat, and one of the questions catches his eyes. It’s from Kaeya, actually. More so out of indulgence than anything, he reads it aloud. “‘What do you like about our dear Grandmaster?’ C’mon, Kaeya, what kind of question is that?”
“Oh?” Flins’ voice curls with amusement. The smile he gives Varka is almost coy. “A fair question. But I’m afraid if I were to answer, we would be here for quite some time.”
Varka considers himself decently good at maintaining a poker face, but this time he can’t stop the flush that rises to his cheeks. Flins smiles wider, looking awfully pleased with himself; it makes it difficult for Varka to find his words.
“Aww, c’mon,” he finally manages to choke out. “You don’t have to lay it on so thick.”
Flins spreads his hands. “If you think I am lying, then I simply must protest. I speak nothing but the truth.”
That makes Varka bark out a laugh. “No you don’t, you little trickster,” he says, grinning, and Flins chuckles softly.
“Ah, but in this case, I assure you that I am being quite truthful.”
Flins looks directly at Varka as he says it, his smile still fixed in place. Pinned under the weight of his gaze, Varka can do nothing but stare. There’s something in Flins’ eyes, something that burns. His tone is as flippant and teasing as ever, but underneath it Varka senses a strange sincerity, like he really is telling the truth. And Varka doesn’t doubt that Flins must like him, otherwise they wouldn’t still be roommates, but—
“Mm, penny for your thoughts, Varka?” Flins’ voice drops to a low murmur. He sets down the game controllers and props his chin up with one palm.
Thoughts? Varka’s not sure he has many of those at the moment. He feels a bit like someone has gone and tossed his brain into a washing machine set on high spin.
“Oh, uh, nothin’,” he practically squeaks.
Flins arches a delicate eyebrow. “Nothing?” he asks, sounding amused. “Well, that wouldn’t be a first.”
That jolts Varka out of his daze. “Hey,” he says, grinning. “Don’t be so rude, huh? I know I’m not the brightest, but I’ve still got plenty of thoughts.”
The laugh Flins lets out is almost like a giggle. “My apologies. Care to share?”
“I don’t know,” Varka teases. “Can you keep a secret?”
“But of course,” Flins says, his eyes gleaming. He leans in a little, and very suddenly Varka understands how all the knights and princes in the fairy tales he used to read were so easily charmed by the faefolk. He would give in too, tell Flins everything— if not for a ping from his stream, alerting him to messages.
He glances back at his chat, which is racing.
secretstrawberry: omg can you get a room??
gothsandbutterflies: why are they deadass flirting
barsiabtos: what the fuck.
glidingchampion (MOD): Alright, everyone, lets calm down haha!
cavalrycaptain (MOD): all men do is lie
chesperands: stop flirting omg
milkteas: Are we certain they are just roommates?
faeselings: THE EYES???
Varka licks his suddenly dry lips. What are they talking about? Flins isn’t flirting with him. His roommate is just like that, always flattering people and buttering them up. He does it with everyone. Granted, he seems to do it with Varka a bit more, but that doesn’t— it doesn’t mean anything.
Oh, but if only it did. Sometimes Varka feels like he’s been pining after his roommate for so long it hurts. He wants to be able to drink on the couch with Flins as more than just friends or roommates. He wants to hold his hand, wants to kiss that teasing mouth. Flins waltzes through life with all the grace and beauty of a fairy and Varka is caught helplessly in his orbit, unable and unwilling to escape. If only he could be more than just Flins’ roommate, but he’s pretty sure he would know if Flins felt the same. And it isn’t like that.
“Chat—” Varka begins.
“My, your viewers seem quite agitated,” Flins murmurs. He gives Varka that look again, all coy from beneath his lashes. It’s like he knows what it does to Varka— he’s doing it on purpose to make Varka look like a fool, he has to be. Varka stares at him and Flins continues, “Perhaps you should listen to them. They seem quite wise.”
“What?” Varka gapes at Flins. But his chat have all been saying that they’re flirting. Surely Flins doesn’t mean—
“But then again, I should not presume things of your viewers.” Flins picks the game console back up and begins to trot along the coast.
Right. It’s just Flins being his usual teasing self— of course there’s nothing more to it. Varka takes a deep breath. Focus. Barbatos, he needs a drink.
And still, he can’t shake the nagging feeling that he’s missing something— some piece of a puzzle that’s just out of his grasp.
---
In the end, it’s Nefer— as it usually is— who snaps it into place.
She calls him, and the first words out of her mouth are, “Varka, are you stupid?”
“Wow, way to greet a guy,” Varka says. “What’s this about?”
He hears shifting on the other end of the line, like Nefer is moving things around. When she speaks again, she sounds utterly exasperated. “I didn’t want to bring this up, but I watched your stream. Are you stupid?”
Broadly speaking, yeah, a little, but— “C’mon, what did I do?”
“Let me put it this way,” says Nefer. “You’re being extremely dense. Your audience has picked up on the same thing the rest of us have known for months, and it’s quite frankly impressive how you still haven’t noticed.”
Varka frowns. Is this about the Flins thing? “Nefer, I—”
“No,” Nefer interrupts. “I don’t want to hear any excuses. And in any case, I just needed to inform you because I’m tired of watching you dance around Flins. Stop being an idiot, Varka.”
She hangs up promptly. Varka lowers his phone from his ear and stares blankly at the screen with her contact, like it could answer all his many, many questions. It does not. The screen turns off, a bit like his brain.
Dance around? But he hasn’t been doing that, has he? Dancing around would imply that Flins has been trying to flirt with him and Varka’s been avoiding it, which is—
Something coils tight in the pit of his stomach, something like nerves. Varka’s been avoiding looking at his socials, but now he slowly logs into his account and scrolls through the posts he’d missed over the past few days. There are countless posts clipping the same moments from his Animal Crossing stream; Flins’ voice echoes from the speakers of his phone over and over. They’re all commenting the same thing.
Varka rewatches one of the clips. Flins is gazing at him, his eyes lidded, his voice low and amused as he speaks. Varka himself is— oh, Barbatos, did he actually blush? No wonder people have been making those comments. He practically gave himself away.
But then why would Nefer say—
“I’m home.”
Varka jerks his head up as Flins comes through the door of their apartment. His hair is still swept up into a ponytail from work; Varka’s fingers itch to tug it free and comb through the strands, but he reins himself back. Standing, he leans against the couch, trying to look casual. “Hey.”
He must have failed in his mission, because Flins’ mouth twitches; he cocks an eyebrow. “Is something the matter, Varka?”
“No, nothing. I—” Oh, Barbatos, he’s so bad at lying. Varka clears his throat and shuffles closer. “Actually, can I talk to you about something?”
He regrets the words almost as soon as they leave his mouth, but Flins nods and there’s no backing out now. Might as well just rip the bandaid off. Varka takes a deep breath and blurts out, “Did you mean what you said on stream?”
… That was not what he was going to say.
Flins blinks slowly, like a confused cat. “... I said many things on your stream, Varka. I’m not certain which one you are referring to.”
Someone just kill Varka now, actually. He grimaces, running a hand through his hair. “I meant the part about liking me. Y’know— ‘What do you like about Varka’?”
“Oh, that.” Something in Flins’ expression shifts, softening his features. “Of course. When I said I liked many things about you, Varka, I meant it genuinely.”
“Yeah, but…” Varka swallows, his throat dry and his heart pounding. He just needs to spit it out, because if Nefer and Kaeya and all his viewers were right, he’s about to feel like the world’s biggest fool. “In what way did you mean it?”
Flins laughs.
That… was not the reaction Varka was expecting. He stares as his roommate daintily clasps a hand over his mouth, muffling his giggles. Still, his eyes are bright with mirth; when Flins lowers his hand, his mouth is curved into a smile. “So that’s what this is all about,” he breathes.
Varka’s brain short circuits a bit, seeing that smile, but still he manages to choke out, “Uh, yeah?”
Flins moves closer, standing so that their chests are nearly touching. He lightly runs his fingers up Varka’s arm, tracing the muscle there, as he gazes up at Varka through lidded eyes. “How do you think I meant it?”
Varka feels like he shouldn’t be moving right now, but at the same time, he really, really wants to grab Flins by the waist and pull him in even closer. He’s so close and Varka could so easily bend down and kiss him, right now. He could tangle his fingers in that gorgeous hair and pull Flins into him like he’s been wanting to do for months.
Instead he croaks out, “Well, now I’m thinking that you didn’t mean it in the way I thought you meant it.”
“You can be quite oblivious at times, you know.” Flins tilts his head, his smile softer now. “But it’s of no consequence. I find it rather charming.”
Holy shit. Varka kind of wants to slap himself now, because how did he not realize until now that Flins has been flirting with him? The looks, the compliments— sure, Flins is a flatterer, but Varka is pretty certain he doesn’t give those looks to just anyone. How had he not noticed until now?
“You’re telling me I’ve been making a fool of myself this whole time?” Varka says. “And you let me?” Flins lets out that soft, breathy laugh of his, and it strikes something deep in Varka’s chest, burning the nerves away. He grins, pinching Flins’ arm. “Oh, I see how it is.”
“Perhaps you should not have been so dense,” says Flins lightly.
Varka’s laughing as he backs Flins against the wall. Flins doesn’t protest— in fact, he looks awfully pleased with himself as Varka uses his arms to box him in. Even his tone is filled with satisfaction as he hums, “My, my— being bold, are we?”
“You don’t like it?” Varka asks.
“Well. Let’s not go that far.” Flins smiles at him and Varka grins back, hopelessly elated. He’s so beautiful— Varka cannot wait to properly take him out on a date.
“Let me make all this time up to you,” he says, reaching up to tuck a wayward strand of hair behind Flins’ ear. He lets his fingers linger on the tip and watches a slight flush creep over Flins’ cheeks. “With a date, I mean. I hear Blue Amber Lake is really gorgeous at sunset.”
“While I will certainly not decline that offer,” Flins says, “I must point out that there is another way you could make it up to me right now.”
“Oh? And what’s that?”
Flins blinks at him through lowered lashes. “You could kiss me.”
Well, Varka sure as hell isn’t going to say no to that. He gently tilts Flins’ chin up, just a little, enough to press their mouths together. Flins’ hand slides against the back of his neck, cold— his skin is always cold— but Varka doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t pull away until Flins does, now breathing just a little harder and with flushed cheeks.
“Your skin is so cold,” Varka murmurs, running a thumb over Flins’ jaw. He’s unable to keep the awe out of his voice, and Flins flushes darker. It’s a pretty color on him, Varka thinks.
“Well,” says Flins. “I seem to recall someone offering to lend me his coat, should I grow too cold.”
Was that conversation him being flirty, too? Did Varka really freak out over nothing? Oh, well. He can’t bring himself to care, not when Flins is in his arms, smiling coyly up at him.
“Whatever you say, beautiful,” he murmurs, and swallows Flins’ laugh with another kiss.
---
Varka @grandmastervarka
Happy to announce that I no longer have a roommate!
|Varka @grandmastervarka
To those of you panicking: yes, he’s my boyfriend now.
|where are the horses? @cavalrycaptain
FINALLY.