Chapter Text
Year of the Realm 3373
Little nightmares made real, more of those strange creatures, the horrible conglomerations of machine and insect, scurried across the street. Dion Lesage hesitated before stepping away from his scooter, holding the bouquet of fragrant flowers close. He watched them thankfully leave with a shudder, wondering just what they were, and why such monsters had begun appearing. Had they always bore little flickering white lights, or was that new? They were nothing at all like the beasts that roamed the wilderness, and might attack people who ventured too close. The likes of wolves and dragonets and morbols were rarely spotted in the cities, and were still just animals and plants, if a bit aggressive when provoked. These things cared nothing for human boundaries, feared nothing, and seemed only vaguely animal. They were to be avoided at all costs.
Pushing them to the back of his mind, Dion double-checked the address, and glanced up at the small building before him. The square little shop was painted in dark red and beige, vines growing along it that had the appearance of being coaxed there rather than a result of great age. The sign in front proclaimed this the Thousand Tomes. There were no vehicles parked nearby save Dion’s scooter, and he gave a sad little nod of solidarity that this business was doing just as well as his. He glanced down at the blooms in his hand, a sunburst of reds and oranges and yellows. The occasional birthday or get-well bouquet kept the shop open, but it was spring where business truly bloomed, to use a tired old cliché. Business was not nearly so booming now in the autumn. Honestly, people did not seem to realize they could surprise their loved one with a romantic gesture during the other seasons.
Not that Dion would know. But he liked to think, should he ever find somebody who held his interest for more than a handful of dates, he would surprise them with tokens of affection at any time.
Dion pushed the door open with the tinkle of a bell, looking around at the rows of dusty books as he walked in, wanting nothing more than to call it a day after this delivery and just browse for a while. That unmistakable musty odor of old books permeated the air and he took a deep breath.
The store was empty save for a single person, and Dion honestly wasn’t sure if he worked there or not. Nobody else seemed to be employed, but he was lounging on one of the plush chairs with a laptop rather than waiting at the cash register. Dion gave another glance around, verifying that nobody else was present, and cleared his throat. “Are you Joshua?”
“Yes?” he said, looking up from his work with a frown, and Dion’s breath caught, flowers nearly falling from his fingers. This was, quite possibly, the most beautiful individual he had ever laid eyes on. It would probably be corny and cliché to compare somebody’s face to a painting of an angel, but Dion would be hard pressed to find a better way to describe it. He wore an oversized red sweater with tight black jeans, and a pair of small reading glasses that he removed and tucked away as he focused on his potential book customer, blinking rapidly at him. A very long, very awkward moment passed as they stared at one another. “Um.” Joshua straightened, then grimaced as his laptop slid to the floor. He stooped over to retrieve it, then resumed staring at Dion. “Hello.” He had to be staring because he found Dion strange for gaping at him like an idiot.
“Hello,” Dion repeated, seeking something intelligent to add. “Is this your bookstore?”
“This?” Joshua looked around, as if remembering they were in a bookstore. “Oh. No. I just work here. I’m a writer, and it’s a nice place to write while actually getting paid to do so.”
He probably should be selling books if he just worked there, but Dion was hardly going to say anything along those lines. “A writer, you say? Anything I would know?”
Joshua shook his head, and Dion found himself entranced by the way the slight movement ruffled his feathery strawberry-blond hair. “I only recently had my first story published, so probably not yet.”
“Congratulations,” Dion said, then held up the flowers. “Which is pretty much what the card says. These are from… Clive?”
“From Clive!” Joshua’s entire face seemed to light up, like a star in the inky sky, and Dion felt a flare of irrational jealousy.
Would that my name on your lips elicited such joy.
“Yes.” He handed the bouquet over, enjoying the pure happiness on that beautiful face, regardless of its source. He bit his lip, trying to fight temptation, but finally gave in to curiosity. “Your boyfriend?” At least I’ll know if you like boys.
His face was beautiful, even when he comically scrunched it up. “No,” Joshua said with a laugh. “Brother.”
“Oh, my apologies.” Oh, thank Greagor! Though I still don’t know if you like boys.
Joshua blinked, and gave him a lopsided smile. “You seem awfully relieved about that,” he noted. “Are you going to ask me out? Can I have your name first?”
Dion could only stare down at him in shock, mind racing. Was he being serious? He couldn’t possibly be serious. But why would he joke about that? Joshua looked away then, awkwardly toying with a thread on his sweater, and Dion was astounded by the sight of somebody who looked like Joshua being awkward.
“Never mind,” Joshua said quickly. “I was joking?”
“Dion,” he blurted. “I’m Dion Lesage. Were you joking?”
They stared at each other for another long moment, until Joshua finally set his bouquet aside and held a hand out. “No.”
Dion reached out to shake Joshua’s hand in friendly greeting, and that was when everything changed.
Time slowed to a crawl. It was only Dion and Joshua in that endless moment, locked together and overwhelmed by the intense sensation that had suddenly hit them like a freight train of emotion. Dion would never be able to truly explain what it felt like, but if asked, he would have to settle for explaining that it was like how those near death would say their entire life flashed before their eyes in an instant. Except it wasn’t Dion’s life, not exactly. And it wasn’t clear images, but feelings, sensations, experiences. A kaleidoscope. Happiness and joy and love, and in every one of those flashes and sensations was Joshua.
He knew Joshua was experiencing something similar, and not just because he was gaping at Dion in wide-eyed astonishment.
It was the longest minute of Dion’s life. But the shortest at the same time. He did not want it to end, but all things must.
Time resumed. They slowly released their grip on each other, and Dion backed up a step. Their eyes remained locked on each other, gazing in wonder.
“I know you,” Dion whispered.
Joshua was on his feet in an instant, not caring that he sent his laptop tumbling to the floor again, launching himself into Dion’s arms. Dion was almost surprised to realize they were similar in height, though Joshua was considerably more slender. Wrapping his arms around that slim back felt right.
“I know you, too,” Joshua said, gripping Dion tightly. “What was that?”
“I wish I knew.”
“I suppose it doesn’t matter.”
Dion had no idea which of them went in for the kiss first. He just knew that they were kissing, passionately, lips and tongues intimately entwined. He also had no idea how he ended up practically carrying Joshua to the nearest surface, but books were sent scattering from the little table.
Dion broke away with a gasp and not a little regret. “Perhaps we should not do this here. I would hate to get you fired.”
“Perhaps you are right,” Joshua said, panting slightly.
It occurred to Dion that he was making out with somebody he only knew the first name and career of. And brother’s name. “I suppose we could get to know each other a little better?”
“Good idea.” Joshua made no move to remove himself from the table, legs wrapped around Dion. Very long legs, Dion could not help but notice. “I am Joshua Rosfield. A writer. You will shortly be able to read my first published short story, Temptation of the Fallen, in an upcoming historical fiction anthology.”
“Historical fiction?” Dion said, intrigued.
“Historical romance,” Joshua admitted. Which made it sound even more interesting. “I am from Rosalith in Rosaria, if you couldn’t guess from my name. My parents decided to apply to the University of Rosaria’s pre-med program for me, so I applied to the most liberal of liberal arts schools in Sanbreque I could find.” He gave Dion an awkward smile. “And I ended up staying even after graduating, so here I am.”
“Here you are,” Dion agreed. “Well, I am Dion Lesage.” Which he already knew. “I work in a flower shop.” Which he also already knew. “I have lived here my whole life.”
“Okay,” Joshua said. “Good start. Nice to meet you.” He gripped Dion by the back of the head and brought him down for another kiss.
“What time do you get off work?” Dion managed when they paused for air again, and Joshua let out a little sigh.
“Still two more hours. My place or yours?”
“I live with roommates,” Dion said with a smirk.
“My place, then.”
That night, they fell asleep in each other’s arms, sated and completely happy.
Until Dion slept. When he slept, he dreamed. He was not normally one to have particularly lucid dreams, or even dreams that he remembered at all after, but this felt real.
He was in pain. Agony. He lay in a broken heap and knew he was going to die. Should have been dead already. He managed to open his eyes and looked up at the brilliant blue sky, a clear sky that filled him with relief and hope despite his own current situation. He rolled over with a groan, ending up with a face-full of sand, his broken body awash with pain in every nerve ending. Slowly, he dragged himself along the beach, unwilling to give up just yet. Searching.
Dion had to pause frequently, squeezing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth. Blood dripped from various wounds, leaving a trail behind him. He was not truly sure why he was doing this, but he had to know. He had to find them. He could not rest until he knew they were safe.
It felt like hours that he searched; he knew that could not be right, but it mattered little.
At long last, he spotted a limp shape in the sand, and he somehow found the strength to drag himself a little faster. He struggled to his feet, but promptly collapsed again; he did not let that hinder him, and pressed onward. As he drew closer, his heart sank. The form was much too still.
“Phoenix,” he choked out as he approached. “Joshua.” He grasped his shoulder and gently rolled him onto his back. Dion could only stare down at the lifeless body, not comprehending. He looked healthy, whole, better than Dion had ever seen him! He checked, just to make sure, but there was no breath or heartbeat to be found.
Dion let himself collapse, as his body had been screaming for him to do since he started this slow, short journey along the beach. He could not go on any longer, but he no longer wished to. He curled up close to Joshua, ready for the end.
Dion jerked awake with a low cry, heart thundering in his chest. He clapped a hand over his mouth, but Joshua simply mumbled in his sleep and rolled over. Dion looked down at his sleeping form, tears stinging his eyes. You’re alive, he thought. You’re real. He lay back down, settling close to Joshua and wrapping an arm around him, trying to calm his racing heart. He tried to firmly remind himself that it was only a nightmare, to just relax and find something nicer to dream about, but sleep eluded him for the rest of the night.