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Eleventh Hour

Summary:

“Is it true?” Revenant says finally, shifting his weight and tensing as if he can’t decide if he should be in a fighter’s stance or not. “You’ve retired?”

“Sure have,” Evan says easily, but can’t suppress the snap of bitterness in his tone. He winces slightly, but he ignores it and Revenant doesn’t comment on it, staying silent to give Evan space to continue, just like he always has. In that moment, Evan is angry with him for it. “So there isn’t any reason for you to keep tracking me down, is there?”

“Evan -”

“Don’t -” Don’t call me that is trapped on the tip of Evan’s tongue when he bites it back. It’s been their usual song and dance for years, a comfortable script that Evan has to pull back from. It’s jarring, but he’s no longer the hero Hamelin; at the same time, he isn’t sure if he can go back to being just Evan again. Not entirely. “Don’t do this,” he says instead, and because he can feel his resolve weakening, he adds, “please.”

Notes:

Hello sheeon! I was really excited to be assigned to you for this exchange - you have an excellent letter and fantastic tastes! I had a lot of fun writing this and stretching myself to try something new. I hope you enjoy and that you have a wonderful Chocobox! <3

And thank you so much to A and H for beta reading!

Work Text:

Even before Evan was known as the hero Hamelin, he'd lived on that same street in the city’s Northern Ward, 2nd Division. When he was a child, it was in the two story house with the planter boxes in every window and overgrown climbing ivy on the corner of Birch and Tenth; but now, as an adult, it’s on the opposite end of Birch in a sleek, modern flat that overlooks Main Street and the start of a strip of stores. The flat and stores are new, relatively. When Evan was a child and the hero industry was nothing more than another arm of law enforcement, a far cry from the publicized near-showbiz monstrosity it became in the time it took him to graduate from high school, the area was nothing more than houses with sizable yards and mom-and-pop shops. 

He remembers those less crowded streets with a fondness tempered by time - the slap of bare feet against warm, wet pavement as he ran through sprinklers in summer; waving to the elderly couple who lived across the street when he saw them sitting in matching rocking chairs on their porch to and from school; and, most fondly, the hole in the wall of hedges that let him sneak into the backyard of the house behind and to the left of his own. 

As a child, Evan had met him through that hole in the hedge, too - the boy who lived there. Alexander - Alex - was a year younger than him and, even being so young, hid his intense blue eyes behind his overgrown bangs. Evan’s other friends found the boy off-putting; “why d’ya want to play with him?” they asked, “he’s so gloomy and he just stares!”   

Evan didn’t mind Alex’s quiet nature - he could tell in the way that Alex looked at him when he defended the other boy that he wasn’t bad. Alex’s eyes were wide with a kind of uncensored admiration that made Evan almost bashful, and he thought that maybe that was how it felt to be a hero who saved the day.

He kind of liked it.

-----

“Revenant.” Evan sounds tired, even to himself, as he straightens out of his defensive posture and lowers his arm. His preemptive strike is blocked by the villain. “What do you want?”

“You still won’t call me by my name?” Revenant answers his question with one of his own. The lower half of his face is covered by a dark mask with the bottom half of a skull on it, but Evan can read the frown in the way his brows pull together and his eyes narrow. 

“Not as long as you’re still wearing that mask and doing …” Evan trails off and gestures vaguely, feeling helpless and drained, “all of this.” 

“Fine.” Revenant bites the word out begrudgingly and Evan knows him well enough to tell that he’s hurt and doesn’t want to drop it, but he does. Evan almost forgets himself and smiles, but he doesn’t. 

The pair stand in silence for an uncomfortable few moments, still standing in the musty smelling, dark alleyway that Revenant pulled Evan into. They’re mostly hidden behind a dumpster and the noise of the city is obscured by a whirring fan, carving out a little pocket just for them. Evan knows what Revenant wants to ask - he’s always been good at that - but he’s waiting. He’ll make Revenant say it himself. 

“Is it true?” Revenant says finally, shifting his weight and tensing as if he can’t decide if he should be in a fighter’s stance or not. “You’ve retired?”

“Sure have,” Evan says easily, but can’t suppress the snap of bitterness in his tone. He winces slightly, but he ignores it and Revenant doesn’t comment on it, staying silent to give Evan space to continue, just like he always has. In that moment, Evan is angry with him for it. “So there isn’t any reason for you to keep tracking me down, is there?”

“Evan -”

“Don’t -” Don’t call me that is trapped on the tip of Evan’s tongue when he bites it back. It’s been their usual song and dance for years, a comfortable script that Evan has to pull back from. It’s jarring, but he’s no longer the hero Hamelin; at the same time, he isn’t sure if he can go back to being just Evan again. Not entirely. “Don’t do this,” he says instead, and because he can feel his resolve weakening, he adds, “please.” 

Revenant’s breath catches like he’s holding back a sigh - or a response - and all he does instead is keep his gaze locked on Evan’s from behind his messy bangs until Evan looks away and turns to leave. 

“I’ll find you again,” Revenant says finally, when Evan is at the mouth of the alleyway. He frowns and glances behind him to admonish the villain, but his words die in his throat when faced with those intense blue eyes again. 

Instead, he flees, ducking into the crowd and blending into the streets of the city. 

-----

The houses Evan and Alex grew up in are no longer standing. The properties aren’t close enough to Main Street to be made into apartments or stores, but they’ve been turned into cookie-cutter multi-family homes that don’t have enough windows. Whenever Evan thinks about it, he’s struck by a pang of conflicting melancholy and relief at the thought of those reminders of simpler times being torn down and built over. If he dwells on those memories too long, he can’t help but wish to return to them; it’s too dangerous for him to think about how easy it used to be to crawl through the hedges and see Alex whenever he wanted, how easy it had been to talk to Alex about anything and everything, and how he'd taken for granted the way Alex hung on his every word, listening like he was the most important thing in the world. 

It wasn’t a stretch to say that, all throughout their childhood, Alex was Evan’s best friend. The opposite was true, too, of course - that Evan was Alex’s best friend - but despite Evan’s best efforts, he suspected that he was also Alex’s only friend. He often thought about how much of a shame it was that his other friends and Alex’s classmates couldn’t see his good qualities. Surely if they only saw the way Alex was so attentive to Evan’s problems and was always there to lend a hand right on time, or how he had such a strong sense of justice that he wasn’t afraid to stand up to Evan’s other friends if they wronged him … surely if they saw those things the same way Evan did, they would grow just as fond of Alex as he was. 

When their powers manifested in middle school, Evan watched, helpless, as Alex began to shut himself off from his classmates. While Evan gained the ability to create emotional links with others and share emotions, Alex gained the ability to sap the energy from anything he touched. Alex never asked Evan to keep him company even when he spent every day by himself and listened to his classmates gossiping and whispering about how villainous his power was, but Evan found himself unable to let him spend so much time alone. 

Eventually, Evan realized that he was with Alex almost exclusively. He didn’t really mind, he had thought at the time - he was, after all, fortunate enough to have such a close friend.

-----

Retired just means that Evan is no longer issued an earpiece tuned to the dispatch and support channels, he finds out shortly after all of his paperwork is in order and the news story breaks. He still has to wear the gold and brown mask that matches his hair and eyes, still has to give cameras that same vapid smile he’s perfected over the years. He’s still expected to entertain the media clamoring for his attention in the wake of the announcement and now, without the sympathy and slack his agency cut him when he was engaged in fights, he’s expected to take over the clerical duties his protégé was doing. North Wind isn’t a bad kid - she reminds Evan of Alex a little in the way she’s quiet and stoic until you get to know her - but her report writing leaves much to be desired. He can tell that she feels bad about the sudden amount of work pushed on him that would normally be stretched out over the last few months of her apprenticeship, but he was the one who decided to retire so suddenly. 

It’s been a month - a month and a half? Evan can’t keep track - since he retired, and he’s getting lost in his thoughts more and more. If he isn’t redoing all of the reports North Wind did for him over the past year, he’s redoing the ones she submits along with detailed notes on what she can improve on, both in terms of content and writing. If he isn’t doing that, then he’s still training North Wind and passing down everything he’s picked up over the years. And between all of it, he’s still fending off the media and wondering how many times he has to answer questions about how does it feel to retire so young? and what will happen to your rivalry with Revenant?  

Evan doesn’t have a good, media-worthy answer to either of those questions. He’s perfected the usual non-response and directed them to his agency time and time again, but the media can smell his bullshit like a shark smells blood in the water. His real answers are boring - he’s tired and he doesn’t know. Revenant has been relatively quiet since the last time they spoke, and if Evan thinks about it too deeply it makes something twist uncomfortably in his stomach. He’s never been without him - Revenant - Alexander - and he knows that their constant run-ins and televised drama contributed to his rise in popularity. Childhood friends turned enemies, the news stories said over and over again, to the point that Evan was sick of hearing about his own damn life. He still knows Revenant well, but not to the same degree that he used to, and he’s never been able to nail down Revenant’s motivations. All of his theories felt too self-centered and he discarded them, even if he suspects that he’s right, but he can’t help but feel a little sick at the thought of waking up one day to seeing his name replaced in the headline next to Revenant’s.

“Hamelin? Are you alright?” 

North Wind’s voice startles Evan and he looks up quickly, smoothing his expression into his usual smile fast enough that he doesn’t think she notices. “Yes, of course,” he says easily, covering his surprise. They’re still at the office and he still goes by Hamelin in professional spaces, so he doesn’t correct her. “Did you need something?”

“Nothing urgent,” she assures Evan, though she does look doubtfully at the stack of paperwork in front of him. “I was just thinking that, well, if you weren’t busy … would you like to get dinner with me tonight? Just the two of us.”

“Sure,” Evan says, without thinking, thoughts half preoccupied by following her gaze and thinking about all of the work he needs to finish. 

“Great! I’ll meet you downstairs at six!” she says, sounding more excited than Evan thinks he’s ever heard her. It’s a startling enough difference to make him look up again, only in time to catch the fluttering edges of her white and silver costume disappear around the corner. 

Evan isn’t stupid, but he sure feels like it; he’s just tired, and he only realizes then that she was asking him on a date. It’s too late to back out now, and he kicks himself for being so inattentive. North Wind is just about done with her apprenticeship and an adult and hero in her own right, but Evan feels nothing but platonic affection for the girl beyond that of a teacher. He’ll just need to apologize and set her straight. 

Six o’clock approaches far too quickly, and leaves Evan with a folder of leftover work to stick in his bag and take home if he means to keep his promise with North Wind. It’s five fifty-eight when he makes it to the front doors of the agency and steps to the side to lean against the building and wait. It’s six eleven when he gets an alert on his communicator that North Wind was injured in a villain attack on routine patrol twenty minutes ago and is stable but en route to the hospital. It’s six fourteen when Revenant rounds the corner and stops in front of Evan, just outside the range of the security cameras lining the building.

“Waiting for someone?” Revenant asks in a low voice that Evan’s familiar with. It means he’s in a bad mood. He doesn’t even wait for an answer. “I heard she got attacked.”

Evan’s tone is clipped, in return. “Funny. So did I.” He doesn’t ask. Evan isn’t sure he wants to know the answer, and Revenant doesn’t volunteer a response. He should be mad, he thinks, or upset. All he can feel is relief that he doesn’t have to go sit through an awkward conversation after such a long day and relief that, upon closer inspection, he doesn’t see any signs of combat on Revenant. His usual mask and dark outfit is crisp and clean, his skin shows no signs of injury, and his hair is messy as usual but not out of place. Evan doesn’t see any tell-tale signs of frostbite or cuts from North Wind’s power, but he still doesn’t ask. 

Instead, Evan decides that he doesn’t want to deal with this. “I’ll have to reject her properly later,” he mutters with a sigh as he shoots off a message of well-wishes before pocketing his communicator and turning to leave. 

“That’s all?” Revenant’s voice is still tense as he lets Evan pass, then moves to follow him.

“That’s all,” Evan says flatly. There’s still that folder of reports that he has to go through once he gets home, and he thinks that one of them has a request for new equipment that needs to be reviewed and then budgeted. If it’s the new arm guard that North Wind was talking about earlier that week, then he’ll have to think about how best to mark her report so she can refer back to it in the future --

“Watch it,” Revenant says in a tone Evan hasn’t heard in years. He’s suddenly way closer than he remembered, and Evan’s head swims before he regains his bearings and realizes that if Revenant wasn’t holding him up, he would have fallen.

“Ah, thanks,” Evan says awkwardly, straightening up and readjusting his bag. He doesn’t shrug out of Revenant’s grasp immediately, but Revenant withdraws his hands as soon as he sees that Evan is on his feet again. “Sorry about that.”

Revenant’s voice is tense and he sounds half angry, half worried. Evan nearly laughs at the familiarity of it. “You’re exhausted.”

Evan shakes his head and tries to be casual, but he’s acutely aware of how close they’re standing. “I’m just a little tired but I’m fine, really -”

“You’re not fine.” 

Evan snaps his mouth shut at the finality of Revenant’s words, and instead watches as the other man sighs and pulls some leather gloves out of his pocket and tugs them on. Wordlessly, he takes his mask off, pockets it, and grabs Evan’s wrist, pulling him along down the street. His grip is tight and Evan stumbles for a moment before he matches Revenant’s pace.

After about a block, Revenant glances back and, seemingly satisfied that Evan is following, releases his wrist tentatively. From the way his shoulders tense, it looks like he expects Evan to ditch him. Instead, Evan falls in step with Revenant. If Revenant is surprised, he doesn’t say anything. 

Eventually, Evan breaks the silence. He finds himself speaking before he even realizes it. “You’re not going to go after North Wind?” He didn’t mean to ask that.

Revenant scoffs, sounding bored, as if even the mention of her name is beneath him. “I have no intention of wasting my time on someone like her.”

“I see,” is all Evan has to offer back to him. He smiles faintly - surely only because he’s glad that his protégé isn’t a target - and they fall back into an almost-comfortable silence. 

That night, when Evan turns on the television, he sees the headline about North Wind. The fact that Revenant’s name doesn’t come on at all during the evening news makes him let out the breath he’d been holding.

-----

Whenever Evan wonders how he got to this point - alone in his flat in his childhood neighborhood and watching the news instead of being on camera himself - he remembers the discussion during his work study interview in his senior year of high school. The uptick in crime and rise in heroes, coupled by the aggressive public image campaigns, had led to a new brand of hero; brave powered individuals no longer saved the city in spandex with aliases ending in - man or some variation thereof. Instead, it was a chance for designers to have their work be on the news as everyone watched a hero wearing their costume save the day and hero aliases were shifting from practical to catchy . And so, when Evan sat down for his review and results of his practical test, he’d been hoping to suggest a nice, simple hero name - something like Empath or Guide, something short and to the point - his power was emotion based, after all, and he fully planned on taking a supporting role. But the discussion quickly turned to brand and if he had ever thought about the more malicious uses for his power, because it was a shame that it had so much potential and yet he hadn’t considered being a front-line hero with it.

Evan had left that meeting with a new name - Hamelin, like the Pied-Piper (Empath and Guide were too “last generation,” they said) - and new instructions: “Hone that power of yours and make villains dance to your tune, maybe take up some more physical training, and start thinking about what kind of image you want to project.”

He didn’t want to project an image, he'd muttered to Alex as they sat side-by-side with their backs against the row of hedges that separated their houses. They were on Evan’s side, and Alex just nodded, ever understanding, and passed a cool drink into Evan’s hand. Evan gave him a shaky smile and bumped their shoulders together, leaning in for a second too long, then sitting up again. 

“I don’t know if I can do all of that … acting stuff,” Evan had said with a vague gesture and a shrug. “I mean, they want me to defeat villains by making a show of it, like some soap opera. All I wanted to do was … I don’t want to hurt anyone, you know?”

Alex nodded again. “I know,” he said after a few moments. Evan stared out at the sky above the roof, watching it slowly turn red and gold in the autumn sunset. “... If you don’t want to do it, don’t.” Evan didn’t expect Alex to start speaking again, and he turned back to his friend, surprised. Alex waved a hand in a half-shrug. “You don’t have to follow their script.”

“That’s it!” Evan grabbed Alex’s hand in excitement, barely registering the way Alex froze and his eyes went wide. “You’re right - maybe I can help fights end peacefully instead! I mean, ‘villains’ are people too, if I can just make a connection with them then I can be a hero without doing any of -- what? Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“You …” Alex was staring at the hand Evan had grabbed and was still holding onto, and Evan could feel his hand tense. 

“What?” Evan just smiled and squeezed his hand once. “It’s not like you’re going to take my energy, are you?”

“No,” Alex said immediately, though a flush rose to his cheeks, “of course not.” 

Evan let his hand linger for a beat longer, then let go gently, not wanting to make Alex even more uncomfortable. “Right? Well, anyway … thanks. I guess I have a goal now.”

“You’re such a bleeding heart,” Alex muttered, hiding behind his still messy brown hair. Evan could tell it wasn’t exactly an insult, and just laughed. “Fine, if that’s what you want. I’ll help you.”

At the time, Evan was grateful - after all, who better to have on his side than his best friend? 

Evan just wanted to help people, and he assumed that Alex did too. 

-----

Evan is engrossed in a paperback novel when he sees someone sit down next to him on the park bench out of the corner of his eyes. He just sighs and adjusts his grip on his book, but doesn’t look up, thumbing the corner of the next page. “Forget being retired - I haven’t even been to the agency in a month. What could you possibly want this time?”

“Nothing,” Revenant says evenly, as if it isn’t unusual for him to share a park bench with Evan.

Evan looks up to admonish the other man and pauses, reconsidering, when he notices that Revenant has forgone his mask. Revenant just raises an eyebrow at him as Evan openly takes in the sight. He hadn’t gotten a good look last time, and now that he can see Revenant clearly, he can see the features he remembered from his childhood in Revenant’s face, just … older. Evan turns away when a pang of nostalgia shoots through his chest.

Turning his attention back to the paperback, Evan scans the words to find where he left off. “Well, I hope you’re here to enjoy the fresh air, because I’m only halfway through this book.”

Revenant just hums by way of agreement and shifts on the bench, leaning back, but doesn’t make a move to interrupt Evan’s reading. 

For a long few moments, Evan is hyper aware of Revenant beside him. He has to reread sentences when he catches himself glancing out of the corner of his eyes every time Revenant adjusts his posture, when he grinds his foot into the grass, when he rests his elbow on the arm of the park bench and slots his chin into his palm. 

Eventually, however, the story in the novel he’s reading grips him again and he gradually tunes out the sounds of the park and the fact that Revenant is sitting beside him. He feels himself relax and, for a long stretch of time, it feels comfortable.  

And then there’s a shriek - a child - but the way Revenant jerks and tenses beside him startles Evan more than the sound did. Out of habit, he puts a hand on Revenant’s knee and looks up. A child, seemingly separated from his parents, has tripped in front of them in the middle of the path. Revenant’s eyes are narrowed and he looks wary, and Evan just pats his knee and shoves his book into Revenant’s hands. Revenant is startled out of his staring at the child and frowns up at Evan as he stands. “Hold onto that for me?”

Without waiting for an answer, he makes his way over to the boy who was crying in the middle of the path. Evan had picked this area because it was away from the crowded entrance, but that also means that there isn't anyone else around. He doesn’t see anyone who might be the boy’s parents. “Hey there,” he says gently, kneeling in front of the boy. “Bet that smarts, huh? Are you alright?”

The boy looks a little startled, but manages to nod and shift his leg around to show his scraped knee to Evan. “Hurts,” he whimpers between sniffles. 

“Ouch,” Evan says sympathetically, keeping his voice quiet and calm. The boy is starting to hiccup and his breath is stuttering from his crying. “You fell hard. I’m sure it stings, but you’ll be just fine. That scrape will heal quick once you get a band-aid on it. In the meantime, can you take a deep breath for me?”

The boy tries, but he ends up coughing and then starts crying anew. Evan hesitates, his eyes flicking back to where Revenant is sitting tense and still on the bench, then turns his attention back to the boy. He doesn’t particularly want to, and he isn’t exactly supposed to use his power on the general public now that he isn’t with an agency, but … “That’s okay, it’s alright. Can you look at me? We’ll breathe together.”

This time, the boy sniffles loudly and scrubs his eyes then looks at Evan. Evan smiles and reaches out with his power, creating an emotional link to the boy. He can feel the fear and surprise that snowballed into panic, tinged with the stinging and throbbing of the boy’s knee; but the boy is young and Evan is an ex-pro, and he easily takes command of the link and slowly radiates something warm and calm and soothing back to the child. Evan takes a deep breath and nods to the boy, who has finally calmed down enough to copy him. He repeats the in and out motion with the boy three times before he feels through the link that the boy has calmed down enough that Evan is comfortable closing it. He severs the link slowly so he doesn’t startle the boy, then smiles reassuringly. It doesn’t seem like the boy even realized what he was doing. Good.

“Where are your parents?” Evan asks, getting the boy’s attention. “I’m sure they’re worried about you.” 

“I dunno,” the boy says, still sniffling but sounding much better. “They walk slow.” 

“Okay,” Evan says, standing up and offering the boy his hand. The boy takes it and Evan easily helps him up, then keeps a loose grasp on it. He glances back and sees Revenant watching him with his usual intense stare. “Let’s go find them.” 

The boys parents aren’t far at all - they thank Evan and scold the boy, fussing over him, but Evan is eager to avoid being the center of attention, so he gives them a quick farewell and well wishes. 

For the first time in God-knows-how-long, he breathes out a sigh of relief when he sees Revenant. Evan sinks down onto the bench and leans back, looking up at the sky before closing his eyes. 

“You haven’t been using your power.” Revenant’s voice is quiet, and it’s half a question. 

“I’ve been trying not to, no,” Evan admits. Damn Revenant and his damn attentiveness. 

Revenant is silent for a long moment, as if he’s thinking, and Evan doesn’t say anything else, hoping that he’ll drop it. “Is it because of Supernova?” 

Of course he doesn’t drop it, and of course he knows about the fight that prompted his retirement. Evan sighs again. He doesn’t answer immediately, either. “Yeah.” 

Again, Revenant doesn’t press him, but Evan can feel the unspoken question. He opens his eyes and gazes up at the nearly cloudless sky. It was about the same that time, too.

“... He was just …” Evan’s breath catches and he exhales harshly, then his words come out in a rush. “I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t talk him down, I couldn’t overpower him through the link, and he was about to set off an explosion so North Wind had to …”

Revenant shifts beside Evan, but Evan doesn’t turn to look. His words are almost soft when he speaks again. “You … were you still linked to him when he died?”

“Yeah.” Evan’s response comes out as little more than a whisper. He had only told a couple of people when he retired, and he’d hid it from North Wind, but it’s … freeing to tell Revenant. Revenant understands. He can still feel the spike and rolling surge of anger, hatred, and desperation flood the link and push back into him, overpowering. He can still feel the dread settle, heavy, in his stomach - he lost, he failed - when he'd sensed Supernova take control and prepare an explosion. He can still remember how the sheer intensity of Supernova’s emotions and how the fragility of his overpowered link froze him to the spot. 

He can still feel the tidal wave of fear and pain when North Wind’s freezing gale, sharpened into a blade, shoots towards his neck - and Evan feels it, too, when that blade reaches Supernova’s flesh and --

“Evan.” 

Evan blinks and he’s hunched over on that park bench, breathing rapidly, almost hyperventilating, but alive. Revenant is crowding him, hands gripping his arms, and when he looks up all he sees is Revenant’s chest; he doesn’t see the sky, he doesn’t see a battlefield, he doesn’t see the park, and he relishes the moment of respite from the rest of the world. Revenant is gripping his biceps a little harder than is comfortable, but Evan doesn’t mind. It’s grounding. 

They stay in that position for a few long moments, and then Revenant begins to pull away. Evan grabs his jacket, then, and he stills. “Just … can you stay like this for a bit longer?” His ears warm from embarrassment, and he doesn’t manage more than a whisper. 

“Of course.” 

Even after all these years, even after everything, Revenant’s response is immediate. Evan closes his eyes. Revenant’s grip on his arms relaxes, but he doesn’t let go. “Thank you. Really.”

-----

Despite his insistence on moving back to Birch Street after his short lived hero career, Evan still can’t bring himself to walk down to the far end where his - where Alex’s - house used to be. 

He'd been running home, late from his apprenticeship and tired from learning how to be Hamelin, with a small cake. Alex should have been home by then, back from his own work study interview and waiting in that same spot where they sat side-by-side a year ago. In all honesty, Evan wasn’t sure how it might’ve gone; Alex didn’t get along with others easily, and while his power was impressive and he was athletic enough to handle it in action, Evan couldn’t help but worry. 

When Evan rounded the corner, everything hit him all at once - the smoke, the sirens, the crowd - and he took off at a sprint. With every house he passed, the closer he got to the scene and the more certain he was that the smoke was coming from his house … or Alex’s. 

It was both of them - and all of the surrounding houses.

Evan’s parents were out of town, but Alex … When Evan got closer, he saw the police cars and a hero dragging an unconscious man away in power suppressing shackles. He saw the fire trucks and rescue teams searching through the smoldering rubble. He saw the spiderweb cracks in the ground in bursts around the destruction, leftover from some past impacts. 

Evan remembers shouting and dropping the cake he bought, running towards the scene and only barely managing to explain that he lived there and he was a hero-in-training. Evan remembers trying to help but being told to sit out when he tried to soothe one of his neighbors and he ended up giving her a panic attack, unable to control his own emotions enough to calm himself, let alone her. 

Evan remembers a man shouting “I found someone! He’s barely breathing!” and turning to see two men lift a large piece of rubble. He remembers the one-two punch to his chest of relief and fear when he realizes it’s Alex, limp but whole. 

Evan remembers the men reaching out to grab Alex and then screaming, withering, and falling to the ground, dead. 

Evan remembers Alex opening his eyes and slowly sitting up, staring at him behind his messy bangs; his gaze isn’t intense, then - his eyes are wide and confused. Fearful. In that moment, Evan knew he never wanted to see that look on Alex’s face again.

When Alex escaped from the police station later that night, the news called him “Revenant.” The news called him a villain.

-----

Evan’s newfound freedom is dangerous, he thinks dryly as he stares down the three people who have him cornered a few blocks away from his flat. This particular area is still being developed and there’s no one else around at that time of night; he’s been falling into a dangerous combination of carelessness in his anonymity and the lingering reckless confidence heroes are expected to display at all times for the cameras. There aren’t any cameras any more, though, and Evan is out of practice - in the months since he’s retired, he’s gotten too used to Revenant being the only person tracking him down. 

It didn’t help that he was distracted when he entered the construction area, either - he’d been too busy replaying the awkward conversation with North Wind that he had avoided for far too long. There was no way around it - he wasn’t interested in her and she needed to know - but it sure sucked. Evan had let his guard down as he tried to think of better ways he could have let her down, and he smiles ruefully at his ambushers to cover his surprise.

All three of the people around Evan are dressed similarly - dark clothing, dark gloves, and blank, black full-face masks - and are poised to attack. One has electricity sparking around his fingers, another has clouds of spores or dust or something floating by his shoulders, and the last, a woman standing between them, has no visible power but has her arms crossed. “We meet again, Hamelin,” she finally spits out. 

Evan just sighs. “I’m retired,” he says blandly, “but to whom do I owe the pleasure?”

The woman tenses, then laughs almost hysterically. “You don’t remember? How mean.” 

“If you wanted me to recognize you, maybe you should've come without hiding your faces,” Evan shoots back. Despite not being able to see the woman’s eyes, he manages to create a link and starts ever-so-slowly trying to influence her with something like boredom. He feels it start to take, then --

“Nice try,” the woman says, mockingly, shaking her head and suddenly the link is gone. 

“Nullification, huh?” Evan keeps his tone light, but this isn’t looking good. He was never suited for combat with multiple opponents, let alone without his power, but at least he remembers who the woman is now. “Let me guess. After we sent most of your little gang to prison in the Southern Ward last year, you’ve been lying low and now you want … what? If you want to use me as leverage to get them out, you’re a little late - no one’s going to trade criminals for a retired hero.”

The woman and the two men exchange looks, then laugh in a way Evan doesn’t like. “Not leverage,” the man with spores floating around his shoulders says, and Evan watches the spores warily as they pulse and turn a silvery color. “Just -”

“Revenge?” Evan cuts the man off and barely finishes speaking before he darts forward punches the man with electricity in the solar plexus, sweeping his legs out from under him at the same time. He’s the most immediate threat - the man yelps and his hands spark violently as he grabs at Evan, but Evan spins on his heel, out of the man’s reach, to grab the woman by the front of her shirt. She shouts and her hands fly to his wrist while she knees him in the gut. Evan grunts in pain, then uses her momentum to throw her into a wall.

He hears one of them shout “now!”, sees a flash of silver, smells something fuzzy, and then, suddenly, he is so, so, incredibly drowsy that he doesn’t even register the pain when he crumples to the ground and hits his head on the pavement. 

-----

Evan wakes, stiff and uncomfortable, tied to a hard metal chair. 

He groans and blinks his eyes open through his throbbing headache, lifting his head, and squints into the gloom. He’s in some sort of unfinished room - likely a basement or construction site - and probably not too far from where he was attacked. It smells of dust and earth. It’s risky to abduct someone so close to a populated area, so Evan has to assume that the three people who ambushed him have dragged him into one of the buildings close by. 

“Awake, are we?” The woman steps forward and hits something with her foot. A work light on the floor floods the room with light and temporarily blinds Evan - it’s almost pointing directly at him, and it makes the woman appear to be little more than a silhouette. 

“Yeah,” Evan says, his voice coming out in a croak before he clears his throat. “Love what you’ve done with the place.”

“Convenient, ain’t it?” A man - one of the two from earlier, surely - steps up behind Evan and sneers from above him. Evan hisses as the man grabs his hair, forcing him to look up at the black mask. The man lifts his other hand and electricity sparks and dances around his fingers. “No one’ll hear ya scream down here. We made sure.”

That just leaves the man with spores unaccounted for. “How thoughtful,” Evan spits back. He reaches out with his power, grabbing onto the link as soon as it connects and shooting as much primal fear through it as he could. No need for subtlety any more.

The man curses loudly and jerks away, just as the woman steps forward and, before Evan can even regain his bearings after being let go, punches him in the gut. If nothing else, Evan’s always been proud of his control over his power, and even being hit wouldn’t normally be enough to disrupt it - but the woman nullifies it when Evan lapses into a coughing fit. 

“Fucker,” the man with electricity growls as he recovers and stomps back over, “just wait, I’m gonna -”

“Enough.” The other man steps forward, then, and Evan glances up to see that he still has spores dancing around his shoulders. They pulse and shift, slowly changing colors like he can’t decide what they should be. 

“Hamelin is of no threat to us any more,” the woman says, grabbing Evan’s chin and forcing him to look up at her. He glares. “See?” she continues, drawing a switchblade out of her pocket and flicking it open. She presses the blade to Evan’s neck and his breath stutters - the sensation is too familiar, too close to what happened to Supernova, too much - and the woman notices. “Don’t like that, huh? Good to know.” As if just to prove her point, she presses a little harder and Evan feels the constricting pressure in his throat and the way his chest seizes, barely registering the shallow cut she makes. It’s hard to breathe -- 

“So, really,” the woman begins, and through the roar of his blood in his ears and the way his vision swims, Evan can hear a grin in her voice, “there’s no rush. It isn’t like there’s anyone who will come looking for him.”

Evan jerks to the side as the man kicks his chair, electricity now sparking and arcing off his whole body. “How does it feel, huh, Hamelin? ” he taunts, moving his hands closer and gathering more electricity around them. A few stray sparks create static that runs along the metal chair and shock Evan’s exposed hands that rest on the arms. The gathering electricity is strong enough that Evan can feel the hair on his neck rising. “Knowin’ that no one’ll find ya before we have our fun?”

“Fuck you,” Evan rasps, mostly out of habit. If he’s honest, he’s fighting against a sinking feeling of resignation - he’s no stranger to fights, and no stranger to being hurt, but he isn’t sure what options he has. He knows that he can’t overpower all three of them by himself, especially not tied up and with his power nullified, and he knows that they’re right; Evan isn’t a hero any more, he isn’t part of an agency, and he doesn’t even have a partner or anyone who he sees regularly enough who would miss him if he was gone. Well, except maybe for --

“Revenant.” The woman’s voice cuts through Evan’s thoughts and his head snaps up to follow her gaze. Evan hears his footsteps before he sees Revenant step into the light, frowning and assessing the situation. Their eyes lock, and Evan grits his teeth and hangs his head. How pathetic he must look.

“You’ve misunderstood something,” Revenant says, his voice icy. Evan looks back up to see him shift his weight. He isn’t wearing gloves or his usual mask. 

“Oh?” The woman straightens, pulling the switchblade away from Evan’s neck and gripping it tightly. Despite her casual tone, she seems to be wary of Revenant. “Care to enlighten me? We’re more than happy to let you have a turn. I know how you had a fixation on Hamelin.”

“No.” Revenant’s tone is tense, and Evan knows it well enough to hear the seething anger underneath. He can’t help a shaky half smile. Revenant catches it and his eyes soften for a split second before turning back to the woman. “I meant that you’re mistaken about no one coming for him.”

There’s a long silence before the woman barks out a disbelieving laugh. “You’re kidding. After all this time, you --”

Revenant doesn’t give her a chance to finish. He darts forward and quickly overpowers her, ignoring the way she shouts and lashes out with her switchblade. Revenant grabs her wrist and twists it at an odd angle, the woman screams, and then with his other hand he grabs at her neck - the only exposed skin he finds. He frowns as nothing happens but recovers quickly, slamming her to the ground. As soon as she gasps on impact, Evan feels his power come back to him and the woman collapses, limp, and Revenant drops her immediately. The man with electricity roars and leaps forward, knocking Evan over. Tied to the chair, he can do little more than curse as the impact jars his already throbbing head. 

When Evan looks up again, he sees Revenant locked in combat with the man, trying to get a hold of some exposed skin - or any contact at all - while trying to dodge the electricity. Off to the side, Evan sees the man with spores start to gather a cloud of it, focused on Revenant. “Oh, no, you don’t,” Evan grits out. It’s hard to form a connection without eye contact, but not impossible - and he’s back in control of his power. As soon as he feels the link start to form, he floods the connection with a disgusting emotional cocktail of everything he’s felt in the past hour or so - all of the irritation, all of the anger, the sudden spike of fear called back from his final fight as a hero, the pain of the blows - and he watches the man with spores retch and stumble, bracing himself against the wall. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Evan sees Revenant all but snarl and punch the man with electricity in the face so hard the mask cracks. Before he’s finished reeling from the blow, Revenant grabs his face through the crumbling mask and Evan watches as the electricity fizzles out and the man falls. That only leaves the man with the spores, still fighting the wave after wave of emotion Evan is sending his way.

When Revenant sees that he isn’t an immediate threat, he rushes to Evan’s side and kneels next to him, carefully untying the ropes binding him to the chair. Evan groans as he’s freed and struggles to sit up from the awkward position he was knocked over in. Revenant’s touch is hesitant, but Evan tugs on his arm, and he gets the message and helps him up. As Evan shakes out his stiff limbs, still keeping his link connected to the man with the spores, Revenant gives him a quick once-over and then begins to approach the only remaining assailant.

Though Evan is focusing on incapacitating the man, his spores seem to pulse and shift in time with his emotions, swelling and almost bubbling around his shoulders. They shift from silvery to a sickly gray and then back to brown, and Evan can swear he sees the occasional flash of green or pink. “Careful,” Evan says hoarsely, eyes flicking to Revenant before looking back at the man. Revenant follows his gaze. “I don’t know what his spores do. The silver one knocked me out. If you give me a bit, I can make him faint.”

“We don’t have the luxury of time,” Revenant says plainly, not sounding even a bit out of breath. “They didn’t cover their tracks. I found you. Someone else could, too.”

Evan frowns. “Yeah, but you know me and the area alr -”

“Just keep him distracted.” 

With a huff, Evan bites his arguments back and nods, returning his focus to sending any incapacitating emotion he could think of at the man. He ramps up the intensity when Revenant starts to approach, sending alternating spikes of fear, pain, and bone-deep exhaustion through the link. Out of the corner of his eye, Evan watches as Revenant quietly closes the distance -- and grabs the back of the man’s neck, making him yelp even through the haze of emotions Evan is sending to him. The man jerks violently before he crumples to the ground and Evan watches, helpless, as the movement is erratic enough to unbalance Revenant; before he can let go of the man’s neck and get away, he stumbles and the spores pulse and strobe - silver, gray, red, brown, pink - and explode.

“Alex!” Evan is shouting and scrambling towards the other man before his thoughts catch up - all he sees is the flash of horror across his childhood friend’s face as he slaps his hands over his nose and mouth and half jumps, half falls away and out of the dissipating cloud of spores. By the time he reaches Revenant’s side, the spores are gone and the man is on the ground, unmoving. He drops to his knees and gently pries Revenant’s hands away from his face, leaning close and looking him over frantically. Evan doesn’t see anything wrong - Revenant mostly looks a little disgusted, a little confused, and maybe a little flustered. He shakes one hand out of Evan’s grip and turns his head to the side slightly to cough into it. 

“Gross,” Revenant mutters, sounding distracted. Evan watches as he suddenly frowns, then extracts his other hand and shifts away from Evan, standing up.

“What?” Evan stands up quickly, too, still staring at Revenant’s face and trying to see if he's hurt or if the spores are affecting him. “What is it? Did you inhale any of it? Do you feel sick?”

“No,” Revenant says, but there’s a hint of tension in his voice that concerns Evan. He frowns, narrowing his eyes at Revenant. “I mean, yes, I inhaled a little. I don’t feel sick. I’m fine.”

“Liar,” Evan says, accusingly. He continues to stare at Revenant, waiting for him to come clean, and when he doesn’t Evan sighs. “Fine, I’ll just have to check myself -”

“No.”  

Evan blinks, surprised, as Revenant cuts him off. He still doesn’t elaborate, and Evan is getting frustrated. “So something is wrong,” Evan says carefully. This time, Revenant nods ever so slightly. 

“Nothing I can’t sleep off,” Revenant says, rolling his shoulders with an uncharacteristically jerky motion. He glances at Evan then turns his gaze to the stairs, already starting to move towards them. He sounds and looks distracted. “Well, if that’s all …”

“I’m not letting you wander off alone like that!” Evan has to jog to catch up with Revenant, who is starting to make his way up the stairs. He glances back - the three people who assaulted him are still knocked out, but none of them seem to be in immediate danger, he can see them breathing - then follows quickly. “I mean, do you know what that man’s spores do? Have you met him before? We can’t be sure if -”

“I’m fine.” Revenant cuts him off, repeating his assurances, but his voice is a little breathy. Is he in pain after all?

“So you do know the guy?” Evan narrows his eyes, but Revenant doesn’t seem to notice.

“I - no.” Revenant still doesn’t sound like he’s really listening to Evan, and it’s worrying. 

“Then you’re coming back to my flat while you ride this out,” Evan decides then and there when Revenant starts to head in the opposite direction. There’s no immediate response, so Evan grabs Revenant’s arm. The other man flinches and turns quickly, shifting his arm out of Evan’s grasp. 

“That’s -” Revenant’s voice sounds scratchy and he has to stop and clear his throat. “That’s not a good idea.”

Evan frowns, almost wanting to reach out and grab Revenant by the collar and shake some sense into him - or answers out of him, but refrains. “Neither is going all the way back to your place like this. If you won’t tell me what’s wrong, at least be stubborn with someone who can keep an eye on you. Or, like I said before, I could just take a look myself -”

“Do not form a link with me.” Revenant’s eyes are suddenly focused on Evan, though his breathing is labored and Evan swears he can see the faint hint of a flush in the dim light. “It might - I don’t want it to get to you.”

“Well, if you would talk to me about it -”

“Fine! Just ... I’ll go to your place.”

Evan blinks at the sudden outburst and the way Revenant looks away, staring off into the distance and gritting his teeth. Is he … embarrassed? It would be endearing if he wasn’t so worried. Instead of pointing it out, Evan just nods, satisfied, and leads the way back to his flat.

Evan has to refocus Revenant a few times on the trip back. Whatever’s wrong is distracting the man badly - he walks with a tenderness Evan hasn’t seen since he pulled a muscle in high school, and based on the flush and pained expression, something must hurt. When Evan offers to lend him an arm or even carry him, though, Revenant adamantly refuses. He can’t figure out what it is, exactly, but something tells him it’s more than just a matter of pride.

When they get to Evan’s flat, Evan has Revenant sit on his bed and try to rest while he phones the police with an anonymous tip of suspicious individuals around the construction site. He glances up once to see Revenant stand up, pace, wince, then sit back down.

By the time Evan has finished calling it in, Revenant seems to be in the same condition. He refuses to look at Evan, and is instead shifting uncomfortably and pointedly staring out the window, as if Evan isn’t able to see the flush to his skin and the way his breathing is labored. Every time Evan tries to bring it up or get closer, Revenant withdraws more, cutting him off or jerking away in odd movements. They’re at an impasse, and even though Evan said he wouldn’t use his power to see what was wrong, he can’t let things continue like this. He refuses to let Revenant suffer through whatever this is alone. 

With that in mind, Evan reaches out with his power and forms a connection to Revenant, startling the other man and managing to slip past his usually impregnable control over his emotions.

What Evan finds, however, is not what he was expecting.

“Oh --” Evan half gasps, half yelps at the intensity of emotion that Revenant is somehow keeping relatively hidden. Heat is the first thing that he feels - heat strong enough to quickly flood the link he’s created, as if it’s rolling off of Revenant in waves and filling the space between them, igniting so fiercely it nearly knocks Evan over before it settles in his stomach as a persistent, low burn. 

“You dumbass,” Revenant says, wincing at the spike of incredulity Evan accidentally sends him. His voice is rough - it’s been rough since he got hit with the spores, but it didn’t send a trill through Evan’s body then. When Evan looks up, Revenant finally meets his gaze, his blue eyes nearly shining in the dim light. His pupils are blown, his skin is flushed, and when he moves his hand from where it was covering his mouth, his lips are slightly swollen from worrying them. The light catches the slight shine of spit. Evan’s cock twitches with interest in his pants. 

“Me?” Evan nearly chokes on the word. He shifts his weight - to adjust his pants, or maybe for friction, he can’t decide - and Revenant follows the movement with his eyes. “An aphrodisiac. You were just going to sit around and suffer through an aphrodisiac? ” 

“I was going to go home and figure it out,” Revenant bites back, and even though he’s scowling Evan can feel a rush of embarrassment through the link. “But you -”

Something fierce surges in Evan’s chest and he can’t stop himself from cutting Revenant off and stalking forward, stopping when he’s standing so close their feet are nearly touching. “‘Figure it out’,” Evan repeats, and he’s not thinking, he’s ruled by the irritation that’s stoked by that damned burning. His throat feels dry. If that’s all, why didn’t Revenant just - was there someone else - no, no way - “You don’t trust me enough to ask for help?”

Revenant swallows, and Evan’s gaze drags along the column of his neck, following the way his Adam’s apple bobs. “It’s not that,” Revenant says, tense. Evan looks up, but Revenant looks away. “It’s … you don’t …”

Revenant doesn’t finish his sentence, but Evan feels a hint of something through the link and grabs onto it - pausing for permission, but Revenant doesn’t stop him - examining the emotion more closely. The depth of it does unbalance him this time - it’s intense, it’s heavy, it’s the years they were together, the years they were apart, the absence and reunions, the rush of fighting, it’s warm and it’s need. 

It’s no one else.  

Evan doesn’t think - he lets himself fall onto the other man and they fall back on the bed in a tangle. He sits back up and grabs his face with his hands, looking into those infuriatingly pretty eyes. 

“I don’t what, Alex?” Evan means to sound frustrated, but he can’t seem to catch his breath. His heart is hammering in his chest. He can’t focus. Beneath him, Alex’s breath hitches at the sound of his name and his exhale carries the hint of a whine. Evan sees his eyes flick down to his mouth and he opens the link more, not trying to control it, just letting them both feel. It’s going to be an echo chamber, he realizes when the heat begins to rise again, but it’s too late. He wants Alex to know he was wrong. He wants Alex to know that he does, too -

Evan leans forward and presses their lips together. It’s imperfect - Evan is too focused on the link to lead and Alex reaches up and runs his hands along Evan’s sides like he’s something delicate, not daring to apply more than the barest pressure. The touch is grounding, though, light as it is, and Evan refocuses and grazes his teeth against Alex’s lip. Alex lets out a tiny noise and jerks, simultaneously parting his lips and lifting his hips in a stuttering movement that just barely brushes his erection against Evan’s thigh. 

A flash of embarrassment bleeds through the link, but Evan just smiles into the kiss and deepens it. Alex’s tongue tangles with his own as soon as he does, and a shiver runs down Evan’s spine. He groans, every movement stoking that same heat that flares wherever they touch. He can sense it from Alex, too, even stronger than his own. 

In a surge of boldness, Evan presses his hips down and raises his thigh, grinding it against Alex’s crotch. He feels the surge of blistering arousal through the link in tandem with Alex’s half gasp, half groan. He feels the way Alex’s hands clench around his waist and his breath hitches, but Alex doesn’t do any more than that. Evan lifts his head up, trying not to feel too pleased at the way Alex unconsciously chases him for a moment, and stares down at the other man. He can feel the desire thrumming beneath Alex’s skin that he isn’t acting on. “I won’t break, you know.”

“Don’t … don’t tease me.” Alex sounds out of breath - Evan is, too, but there’s something thrilling about the always-composed Alex - Revenant - so flustered beneath him. 

“Okay,” Evan says, grinning from the thrill of it, “I won’t tease you, then.” He sees Alex frown and open his mouth to call him out on his tone, but whatever he’s about to say is cut off and turns into a surprised moan when Evan reaches down, undoes Alex’s pants, and slides his hand inside to palm his erection. Alex’s hands shift down to Evan’s hips and tug him closer. 

Evan nearly loses his balance when Alex suddenly sits up, but his hands on Evan’s hips steady him. Alex gives Evan a heated half-glare as he slides one hand up Evan’s chest, under his shirt, to thumb a nipple and slides the other hand down press against Evan’s own erection through his pants. Electricity zips up his spine at the sensations and Evan’s grin melts into a moan. “I warned you,” Alex says, his voice low and rough in a way that goes straight to Evan’s cock. He withdraws his hands and Evan bites back a whine. “Off,” is all he says, tugging at Evan’s shirt and snapping the band of his pants. 

Evan complies in a rush, throwing his shirt off and somewhere behind him and then sitting up on his knees to get his pants and underwear off. Alex follows suit under him, shifting and lifting his hips to strip in a way that, somehow, continues to brush against Evan’s bare skin and leave trails of sensation behind.

Evan thinks, briefly, that it’s almost a shame that his need for more is so overpowering - he’d like to take his time with Alex. See what kind of noises he could draw out by stripping him slowly. Another time, he promises himself, and the thought makes him shiver. It’s like a dam has been broken; all of the times they’d been dancing around each other and carefully trying to avoid crossing that invisible line all led up to this moment.

“Don’t get distracted.” Alex leans forward until their bare chests are touching and speaks close to Evan’s ear, simultaneously pressing his hips forward until their cocks rub together. Evan gasps and tenses, hands quickly wrapping around Alex, then relaxes against him as Alex reaches down and takes both of them together in his hands. 

“Alex …” Evan’s voice comes out breathy when Alex swipes his thumb over the head of his cock, already wet with precome. He does it again, and again, and Evan whines and hitches his hips forward, drawing a groan from Alex as their cocks slide against each other. Each touch feeds that burning in his stomach, and he can tell Alex feels the same.

Alex dips his head to nose along Evan’s jaw, grazing his teeth against the sensitive skin right under his ear. His voice is muffled and rough when he speaks. “How do you want me?”

Several thoughts flicker through Evan’s mind at once, and the surge of arousal must seep into their link because Alex lifts his head and stares at Evan quizzically. “I, uh,” Evan begins, but his mouth suddenly feels dry and he flushes, biting his bottom lip before continuing, “I think … i-inside me …”

“Damn,” Alex ducks his head and growls against Evan’s neck, teeth scraping against the skin there again as his cock jumps against Evan’s. 

When he doesn’t offer more of a response, Evan starts to lean back, bringing a hand up to tug lightly at Alex’s hair, trying to look at his expression. Before he can do more than rest his hand against the back of Alex’s head, he yelps when one of Alex’s fingers press lightly against his asshole. The touch sends sparks over his skin and he shivers. Encouraged, Alex presses again, spreading his cheeks and teasing the rim but not quite entering. 

A note of trepidation floats through the link and Evan refocuses. “H-hold on, I have something,” he breathes. Alex removes the hand still wrapped around their cocks and steadies Evan as he fumbles with the drawer. The heat is turning to frustration when he reaches for the bottle - slow, too slow, hurry up - then he tilts at just the right angle that Alex’s finger catches on his rim and he lets out a surprised moan, nearly sliding out of Alex’s lap. Alex keeps him from falling and Evan manages to hand him the bottle.

Evan watches as Alex drizzles a liberal amount of lube onto his fingers and reaches around him again. He feels one finger press into him, almost hesitant, but the immediate heat that rises to a boiling point in his stomach - he can’t -  Evan doesn’t think, he grinds down, chasing Alex’s fingers. Alex’s breath hitches and he presses a second finger in - then a third - the heat shifts so satisfyingly

Alex’s finger crook and press into his prostate and Evan sees stars, whatever expression he had been making dissolving into a strangled moan, shuddering and dropping his forehead to rest against Alex’s shoulder. He feels the heat sing and his cock throbs; through the link, he can feel the inferno barely contained under Alex’s skin, desire so tightly wound it might snap. 

Evan tries to keep up and feed Alex’s pleasure by clumsily running his hands along his cock and fondling his balls, but Alex presses against his prostate again, Evan is trembling with need - more, he needs more -

“I know,” Alex soothes him, even though his voice is rough with desire, when Evan whines loudly as his fingers withdraw with an obscene squelch. He feels his muscles clench around nothing and tries to sit up on his knees. With Alex’s help, they rearrange themselves until Evan is hovering just above Alex’s hard cock, the tip brushing against the rim slick with lube. He feels Alex’s hips jerk in tiny movements, head pressing against his hole lightly - impatiently - but not entering. 

Evan, too, is impatient - he squirms and presses down, breath hitching when Alex’s cock finds its mark. Alex groans, the sound almost a growl, and his body jerks as if he wants to press all the way in but stops himself. Evan pushes down more, gasping and moaning as he feels the head of Alex’s cock open him wider, the stretch burning deliciously as he sinks down. Beneath him, Alex is breathing harshly and Evan can feel his muscles tense and his body rigid as he tries to keep himself from thrusting in the rest of the way. 

When he bottoms out, both of them are gasping for breath and Evan is nearly trembling with need from feeling so full. Alex is still tense and only moving in tiny jerks, giving Evan time to adjust, until Evan rolls his hips back and draws a deep groan from Alex. Evan’s laugh is breathless and cut short by a groan of his own when Alex grips his hips and thrusts up into him. He does it again and Evan comes down to meet him, the slapping of skin on skin as Alex’s cock drags in and out of Evan filling the room until Evan spasms and half whimpers, half moans when Alex hits just the right spot.

Alex growls and angles his thrusts to find his prostate again, and Evan falls against his chest, trying to keep up and match his rhythm. He mostly feels alight with pleasure and trying to just hold on as it builds and builds, it’s so much - it’s not enough - he’s full -

“Wait - h-hold on,” Evan pants and tries to get his thoughts together through the relentless way Alex is thrusting up and hitting his prostate over and over, “if - ah, A-Alex, if you keep .. I’ll …”

“It’s fine,” Alex growls out, reaching up and tangling his fingers in Evan’s hair. He tilts Evan’s head back and nips at his neck, then bites harder at his shoulder, drawing out a keening whine from Evan before he leans up and speaks so close to Evan’s ear he can feel the heat of his breath. “Come for me.”

Evan comes with a shout, fingers clawing at Alex’s back, vision whiting out, clenching around Alex’s cock, and spilling over both of their chests. When he comes to a moment later, he’s resting on Alex’s shoulder again and Alex is carding his fingers through his hair and pressing up into him lazily, coaxing him through his orgasm, each slow thrust sending shocks of overstimulation through Evan’s body until he whimpers. Alex slows, but his breathing is heavy. “You good?”

“Y - Yeah,” Evan manages, grimacing at how raspy his voice sounds. He manages to lift his head up and look at Alex - even without the link, he can see how close he is. “But ... you didn’t finish.”

Alex just shakes his head, then looks into Evan’s eyes, searching. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course,” Evan says, gasping when Alex presses up into him again. His legs tremble when Alex brushes his prostate again and it’s so sensitive it almost hurts. 

“Keep your link open,” is all the explanation Alex gives before Evan feels him take control of it. He pauses when Evan sends a note of confusion through the connection, but as soon as Evan nods again Alex scrunches his face in concentration. 

For a moment, nothing happens besides Evan feeling the still-burning arousal spilling over from Alex - and then a gasp that turns into a moan escapes him when he swears he feels heat and pressure around his cock, but that can’t be right because it’s still trapped between them and … 

It hits him. He’s feeling Alex’s cock inside him. The thought draws another moan from Evan and he buries his suddenly burning face in the crook of Alex’s neck. Alex laughs briefly, a breathy noise that reverberates through his chest, then grips Evan’s dick and his hand starts to warm at the same time as heat floods the link anew. Evan gasps and grabs at Alex’s shoulders, scraping his fingers against his skin, feeling pressure building in his balls and his asshole clenching down around Alex as his hips stutter up and down from the sensation until he realizes that, somehow, he’s hard again. 

“Holy shit,” Evan breathes with a small, disbelieving laugh. He can feel the burning arousal smoldering in his stomach spark again, sending fire through his nerves. 

Alex pulls back from the link, releasing his control over it and letting it sit open again, and grins when Evan looks up at him. “You like that?”

“I - ah,” Evan can barely keep his thoughts together - his erection is back and his asshole is still sensitive in a way that no longer hurts, instead shooting electricity straight to his cock. “Was that …”

“I’ve been practicing,” Alex breathes, thrusting up at the same time as he strokes Evan’s dick, drawing a moan from him. “Found out that I can send energy and I thought I could - nnn -” Alex cuts himself off with a groan as Evan rolls his hips, feeding their pleasure languidly. 

Determined to return the favor, Evan tries to focus; he braces himself with his hands on Alex’s shoulders and closes his eyes, focusing on copying what Alex did. When he grinds down, unable to stop the moan from slipping out when Alex’s cock hits his prostate again, he lets the sensation burst through the link. He feels Alex twitch inside him and hears the strangled noise he makes, so Evan does it again. When he opens his eyes, he sees Alex’s brows furrowed in pleasure and his skin bright with a flush, a broken sound escaping him when Evan does it a third time. 

Alex is unraveling beneath him. Evan drinks the sight in greedily, clenching around his cock and sending every sensation through the link along with the heat that he feels. He leans forward and captures Alex’s mouth with his own again, relishing in the way Alex pants, hot, against his lips and can’t seem to catch his breath. With one last roll of his hips and burst over the link, Evan bites Alex’s lower lip and Alex spasms, moaning brokenly as he climaxes. Evan feels the rush of warmth inside him and rolls his hips slowly, fucking Alex through his orgasm. 

Evan slows when Alex collapses back onto the bed, chest heaving and shuddering from the aftershocks. They rest in a peaceful silence for a long moment, with Evan just sitting atop Alex’s softening cock. The heat from the aphrodisiac is no longer boiling in their bloodstream, leaving behind only a pleasant burn. Evan’s heart swells with affection as he watches Alex recover, looking content and blissed out. 

But he’s still hard, thanks to Alex.

He grinds down, then, making Alex hiss, still sensitive. When he catches Alex’s eyes, Evan grins. “Think you can do that energy trick on yourself?”

-----

Spent and exhausted, Evan is half dozing on Alex’s chest when he hears him speak.

“What do you want to do now?”

Evan sits up and smiles at Alex, reaching over and brushing his ever-unruly bangs away from his eyes. “Not sure. Just … I don’t want to fight any more.”

Alex nods and leans into his touch, closing his eyes in contentment. “Then don’t.” After a moment of silence, he opens his eyes again. “I won’t either. There isn’t anyone else worth fighting.”

“Now that’s a lie.” Evan laughs, amused, even as Alex frowns. “Come on. I wasn’t anyone special - I should’ve only been a support hero. I’m easily outranked by most heroes in terms of power, smarts, or combat ability.” Alex is about to say something, but Evan just smiles again and cuts him off. “But ... thank you. And I’m … I’m sorry.”

Alex frowns, sitting up and taking Evan’s hand that was resting on his cheek in his own. “For what?”

Evan shrugs and glances away. “For … I mean, you spent all this time being the foil to Hamelin, a second-rate hero at best. You’re the reason why my career was so successful - people were interested in me because of you. You should have been the one in the spotlight; you’re … you’ve always been much stronger than I am. And yet you wasted your time for me, and I -”

“That’s not true.” Alex cuts him off sharply and bowls him over, caging Evan in with a hand on either side of his head and hovering just inches above his face. Evan stares into those familiar, intense blue eyes and waits. Alex sighs. “Think about it. I never had a chance after I killed those two rescue workers. I didn’t mean to do it, but you know it’s true. I had two options - grovel and walk on eggshells for the rest of my life under the system, or break out and be free. My choice was obvious.” 

Evan sighs, too, and just nods. It makes sense, but it doesn’t make him feel any less guilty about it. Alex looks like he wants to say something else, but he isn’t - he’s half frowning and worrying the edge of his bottom lip. Evan raises an eyebrow. 

“And,” Alex says finally, gaze flitting to the side, “if … you want the truth, I just …” Alex clears his throat and Evan can see a faint blush on his cheeks. How rare, and how lucky he’s been to see it so many times that night. He struggles to hide his smile and waits patiently for Alex to gather his thoughts, reaching up and carding his fingers through Alex’s hair lightly. “It was the only way I could keep seeing you without harming your career,” he mumbles, embarrassed. Evan grins up at him and Alex catches his eyes, then huffs and drapes himself over Evan to bury his face in the crook of his neck, breath ghosting against the still-sore bite mark on his shoulder. “So I wasn’t wasting my time. And you shouldn’t apologize for it. I wanted to.”

Evan laughs breathlessly and turns his head to nose Alex’s hair, breath making a few strands flutter and tickle his skin. “That sounds an awful lot like a confession, coming from you.”

Alex suddenly lifts his head and then he is so close to Evan that their lips are nearly brushing. His eyes search Evan’s, serious expression contrasted by the slowly darkening blush. “Maybe it is,” he manages, and Evan has never heard him sound so tentative. It’s charming.

Again, Evan laughs - breathless still, as if Alex has knocked the air from his lungs - and grins, feeling as if the warmth in his chest might burst to envelop them both. “Is that so?” Evan can’t help but tease Alex, even though his voice doesn’t rise above a whisper. “Then I suppose I should give you a reply.” 

Alex starts to say something, but stops abruptly as Evan slides his hands up to caress either side of Alex’s face, thumbs tracing gentle circles on his cheeks. Evan waits for the briefest moment, taking in the way Alex’s expression is so open - eyes wide, lips parted slightly, cheeks flushed - and the way their breaths mingle, warm, in the space between; Alex shifts, but Evan leans up before he can move and presses against him in a kiss so sweet it nearly makes him ache. For the longest moment, Evan is surrounded by warmth. There is no fighting, no heroes and villains, no media, no danger. Dawn breaks through the window across the room. In each other’s arms, they are safe.