Chapter Text
Lohen wakes not with the pleasant soreness and distant throbbing of semi-closed wounds that he's come to expect, but with dull aches across his body and a lingering sense of dread. It's dreary in his bedroom. No sunlight glares into his eyelids to wake him, and there's an eerie silence to the usually bustling city around him. Rather... it's either far too early to be awake, or it's raining outside. He bets on the first one, given that it's more likely for Barbatos to piss glitter on the Cathedral than it is for it to rain in the city.
He rubs his eyes before sitting up, expecting the thin blanket he sleeps with to fall into a pile at his hips. Instead, he's met with a heavy force that pushes, no, shoves him into laying on his back again. Did he get wasted and bring a rando into his apartment last night? He opens his eyes, expecting to see some still-half-tied-up mangled loser hogging half his bed, but finds... nothing he could have expected, actually.
A heavy gray blanket weighs him down, but that's the least of his concerns. He is not in his own bedroom, rather, he's in the bedroom of a Lightkeeper-obsessed weirdo who practically lives in a metal cage. Banners and flags of Piramida and... what was the guy's name? Solvent? Solovei? ...hang around the compact room. Clothes are shoved into a half-open drawer, and the white curtains flail about as a draft comes in. He hazards a guess that it'd take him four steps to get from the edge of the bed to the door. Certainly not like a dormitory or a tent, but too small for him personally.
There is nobody in the bed next to him, and no note on the bedside table. Lohen isn't sure whether to be grateful or not to his mystery hook-up for leaving zero trace of their existence. That is, until he reaches to open a drawer and spots a scar on his arm that was not there last night. Multiple scars, actually. He traces his other hand over them, and finds even more.
Damn, he thinks to himself, maybe I got mauled. Is that why I'm aching so bad?
He swings his legs onto the floor, then stops dead in his tracks. No way in hell would he ever wear patterned boxers. Especially not red and white. Fat chance. You'd have to pry the plain blues and blacks off Lohen's cold dead body. Even then, he'd probably still come back fighting for them.
A mirror... is there a mirror in here?
Lohen stands up, noting a particular ache in his knees, and looks around for something, anything that'll show his reflection. Instead, there's letters and paperwork strewn about, to-do lists and patrol schedules pinned to a corkboard above the dresser, and... a Geo Vision, sat atop a neatly folded pile of clothing.
Illuga's house, huh? The guy's adorable, sure, but how did he end up in Nod Krai? In Piramida? He sure as hell wouldn't make the trek sober without a damn good reason, let alone drunk. Lohen's had enough of Nod-Krai after that expedition.
He glances up at the corkboard again, but spots a shine in his peripheral. A mirror sits to his right, tilted toward...
His eyes dart around the room, then back down to the mirror, to his 'reflection'. To... Illuga. Where Lohen should be standing, Illuga stands instead. When Lohen raises his arm, Illuga raises his. When Lohen sticks his tongue out, Illuga does so too.
"Huh," he hums, and Illuga's voice says it. "Great. I'm inside another man and my dick isn't even wet. Joy."
That, and he'd rather another man be inside him. We'll leave that discussion for later, though. For now, Lohen has to figure out what he could—sorry, should do. As much as he wants to have fun, he'd like to get his situation in order first. Playtime can come later, unfortunately.
He takes the pile of clothes and tries to dress himself the way he remembers Illuga looking. He had the knee pads on, no wonder his knees hurt so damn bad, and the sash belt over the... sweater? Or the undershirt? Does he clip the Vision to his pants or belt? Maybe he could use it as an earring as a fashion statement. Perhaps he could use it to give Illuga a surprise piercing. Why does he wear this harness over his chest? Is it for some freak shit he's got going on with a colleague?
"Illuga!" A gruff voice calls. It's familiar, but Lohen doesn't care to put a name to it. "Are you still in here?"
"Yeah?" Lohen yells back, now throwing the coat on. A shame. Illuga's got nice arms.
"Meet me in the square before you head to the cemetery! I've got some extra supplies for you to haul over!"
Lohen could die with excitement. He does a look over once more, only now noticing the bird sitting in its cage.
"...Since when were you here?" he asks, opening the cage door. Aedon flutters onto his hand, pecks at his finger, then hops back into his cage immediately. "Don't like me? Figures."
He turns to leave, but Aedon chirps.
"What?" he huffs, turning again. Aedon points his head in the direction of the paper on the desk. A pen sits atop, along with a half-written letter to some guy named Bjorn. Lohen shoves it aside, finds a new paper, and begins to write.
...
The sun is glaring down on Lohen when he leaves Illuga's house. The square... who was he supposed to meet again? Did he even get a name? Just an old sounding guy?
"Illuga! Did you get lost?" that same voice laughs, slapping a hand onto his shoulder from behind. Lohen clenches his fist. He'd have whipped the dagger out in a heartbeat if he had it. "Come over here. I've got the supplies ready."
"Mmkay," he hums, turning to follow the man. He's middle aged, huge, and scruffy looking like he'd thought. Handsome guy, but not really his type. And now that he thinks about it...
"These are some extra candles and fuel. Given what you said last time, I made sure they'll last a while. I'm assuming you're gonna stay the night again?"
Right. He's Illuga's boss. Nicholas, or whatever his name was. Lohen hadn't been paying attention when they met. Wait, where's he staying the night? "Hmm? Where?" he asks, feigning having zoned out. The man lets out a hearty laugh.
"The Final Night Cemetery," he says, "where else?"
A cemetery... why in the Abyss would Illuga spend the night at a cemetery? "...Right. Yeah. I'll head out in a minute."
The guy gives him another few good pats on the shoulder, as if he were a dog. Lohen gives him a polite smile before turning on his heel back to Illuga's house. If only he could've awoken in someone boring's head, like that one bard that lazes around and drinks all day. Or that do-nothing deacon Dahlia. That way he could at least get a break from having responsibilities. Whatever. He'll just take these supplies to the cemetery and hope that bird is back when he is.
Maybe he could get some experience with Geo on the way over, take down some of those Wild Hunt freaks. Maybe he'll even be generous and give a few Ratniki a good scare while he's at it. It would be hysterical.
He scavenges through the unopened letters and paperwork, eventually finding a map with a route outlined in red pen. It leads to the northernmost point of Paha Isle, a place that Lohen hasn't ventured to himself. All he knows is that the isle reeks of Fatui and Wild Hunt, and that's fine by him. More to hunt, more to play with.
...
...
By the time Lohen reaches the island, it is the early hours of the evening. Turns out that hauling supplies and fighting are tough work when you're not able to freeze your enemies, nor poison them. He'd gone on a bit of a detour around the Piramida area, searching for any and all monsters or rogues to come fight. He'd gotten a good amount of that pent-up bloodlust out of his system, but it still pooled around his veins like a dormant poison, awaiting any chance to strike.
Well, whatever. He came out with nothing but a scratch on his thigh. It was weak enough of a hit that his pants took the brunt of it, only a thin slice making it through. It isn't anything to worry about, even when it isn't his own body being beaten. Illuga will live. He's probably taken worse beatings before.
Lohen walks up the spindling path of the cemetery. He stops to squint at a ghost, one who shrieks and disappears when he makes eye contact. He snickers before continuing, adjusting the bag on his back as he arrives at the lighthouse. It's imposing in size and structure, but alas, Lohen is only here to drop off whatever supplies the randos here may need. He can't explore to his heart's content. Or... maybe if he asks politely?
The door is pulled ajar with a heavy creak, and yellow eyes peer at him from the darkness. A chill runs down Lohen's spine, but just as quickly as it does, the door opens fully to a well-lit and cozy kitchen. As well as... "Young master," Flins says, stepping aside to let Lohen in, "I was becoming worried."
Lohen's met the guy in passing before. They've worked together on two or three joint missions with the Ratniki. He remembers the guy being creepy, more in the 'is this guy even human?' way rather than the pervy loser way. So, he's one of the few Ratniki that Lohen bothered to remember.
"Do come in."
Right. Lohen enters the lighthouse, setting his bag on the floor with a heavy thud. On the table sits two glasses of water, everything else being spotless. ...Does this guy clean all day rather than working? Whatever. He'll take the water.
"...How fares the young master?" Flins asks. He'd narrowed his eyes for a moment, as if suspicious of Lohen. Is the jig up already? "Was your trip eventful?"
"Mmh, not really," Lohen replies honestly, setting one of the cups, now emptied, down on the table. Flins sits in the chair across from where Lohen stands. "Ran into a few Wild Hunt, but they're no big deal. Just some small fries."
Flins raises his eyebrows. "Oh my. You have quite the ego today, master Illuga."
Lohen downs the second cup, setting it aside the first one before sitting on the table itself. "Maybe I'm just in a good mood," he hums. Flins's eyes glance down to Lohen's thigh, where his pants are torn, then to his knees where the pads are covered in residual mud.
A small animal could probably suffocate under the amount of tension in the room. Lohen's not sure what Flins's relationship with Illuga is, but if he goes off what he's learned, they're definitely close. He's certainly not fooled by Lohen's act, but... Lohen can't help but want to keep the act going. The man does have a pretty face. He'd probably be a good hook-up, if anything.
"I ran into a particularly brutish phantom though. He got me on the thigh," Lohen stretches his leg, placing the tip of his boots onto Flins's thigh. He doesn't miss the way the man tenses, nor does he miss the way his eyes flit between Lohen's thigh and face. "Attacking vulnerable young men in the woods... How despicable."
He presses the the tip of his boot further into Flins's thigh, rubbing it in a small circle. "It must've been an impressive monster," Flins says, and his breath hitches when Lohen applies more pressure. "Perhaps it wished to get under your clothes?"
Lohen lets out a sharp "hah!", leaning back on his palms ever so lightly as he trails his foot further up Flins's thigh, pushing it into his crotch. Flins gasps, leaning back in his chair. "Maybe. I know of many people who want to get under my clothes," Lohen says, grinning as Flins thrusts his hips up into the boot. "I'm high in demand, you know. A pretty boy like me."
Flins lets out a breathy laugh, "I– ah– am most grateful then." He moans sweetly as Lohen circles the tent of his erection, then switches to press his heel onto where the base of his dick should be, letting his shoe lay atop Flins's erection. "For you to– oh– pleasure me so..."
Lohen tilts his head further, unsure whether to watch this beauty of a man's composure slip from his face, or watch him grow harder under his foot. Either way, Lohen's a winner. "Yeah?" he says under his breath, "you like being beneath me?"
Flins chuckles, "I–ah, always have. You always please me so beautifully, young master– ugnh–!"
Lohen's eyes go wide as saucers. This guy's a bottom?! Well, he should've guessed, but... who the hell is going to fuck him now? Unless...
"Haah, I'm... not sure I can hold out... much longer," Flins huffs, rolling his hips in rhythm with Lohen's foot. Lohen presses harder, rubs faster. It has to be a little painful, having your dick be grated against a boot like this, but Flins seems to not mind. Perhaps he is truly too whipped for Illuga, he'd let the man do anything to him.
"Mmhm? You'll cream your pants just from a little friction? Against my dirty shoe?" Lohen teases, unable to resist a grin at how Flins whines a 'yes', nodding his head frantically. Illuga is a lucky man. "Would you rut against my foot if I stopped? Whine like a dog if I told you to?"
A shaky moan is his answer, one accompanied by a harsh gasp as Flins is wracked with a full body shiver. He cums with a whine, thrusting his hips into Lohen's foot one more time before collapsing back into his chair. He looks up at Lohen with half-lidded eyes, his mouth parted as he heaves for breath.
Lohen slides his foot down Flins's thigh, letting it fall and standing up off the table. He goes to stand between Flins and the table. "You liked that, hmm? Being treated so poorly?"
"Young master," he whines with a pout. Flins nods, reaching out to Lohen's waist. Lohen slaps his hands away.
"Aht, aht," Lohen tuts, his grin growing wider as Flins puts his hands in his lap. "Don't touch me."
Lohen steps forward, bending down to unzip Flins's fly. He shrugs his cloak off at Lohen's gesture, letting it be tossed onto the table with little regard. Lohen shoves his pants down enough to show his half-hard dick strain against his briefs. Lohen licks his lips, stepping back once more.
"Now," he begins with a smile, "you're going to bend me over this table and fuck me dumb. Understand?" He tilts his head while saying the last word, watching how Flins's face flushes.
He nearly laughs at how fast Flins's erection rears its head once more. "Mmhm," Flins hums, standing from the chair with haste and guiding Lohen to turn around by removing his coat, then pushing him so that he's half laid over the table. "Young master..."
Lohen doesn't bother to remember where the coat goes. His belt and sash are undone with nimble fingers, shoved halfway down his thighs along with his pants and boxers. A strangled gasp escapes his lips as Flins holds him down by the small of his back, the other hand reaching to rest against his chin and put two fingers inside his mouth. Lohen moans, swirling his tongue around them before sucking, making a wet pop as they're pulled out.
"I'll put one in, is that alright?" Flins asks, using his foot to ease one of Lohen's legs further apart. Lohen nods, exhaling sharply when Flins shoves one finger into his hole. "Does it hurt?"
"Make it hurt," Lohen spits back, "you're being far too gentle with me."
Another finger joins the first one and Lohen groans at the forced stretch. "Is that better, young master?" Flins asks, a teasing lilt to his voice. He spreads the fingers apart, stretching Lohen further with each thrust of his hand.
"Yeah," he breathes, burying his face in his arms. "Mmngh, it's good..."
His fingers curl upward, stroking the top of his insides as if to search them. They find their target quickly.
"Fucckkk–!" Lohen cries, spreading his legs apart more. "There, that's it... gods, yes!"
Flins gets the memo. He shoves his fingers further, scissoring them apart before curling them upward when they reconnect. Lohen's dick leaks against the table, and he can only think of how angry Illuga will be with him after this. Would he finally agree to that spar? Beat him to a bloody pulp, until Lohen has to gasp and beg for mercy (he wouldn't, but that's beside the point)? His dick twitches at the thought, and he moans lowly into his arms.
"E–enough..." Lohen mutters, lifting his head so Flins can hear him. "Haah... won't you fuck me properly, Flins?"
Flins grimaces, his erection raring as he yanks his pants and boxers down just enough to free it. It slaps against Lohen's thigh. If Illuga is still a top even when Flins is this well-endowed... Lohen shivers at the idea of how good of a fuck Illuga himself must be.
Archons, how greedy can one guy get? Fucking a guy's fling, then fantasizing about him too? He should get Dahlia to spank him when this body-swap is all sorted out.
Or... maybe he could take out all this frustration on Dahlia instead. The man always cries so prettily when Lohen rides him, after all. Maybe it's some weird Church guilt, maybe Lohen has crazy technique. Who knows? It's certainly not Lohen's problem why Dahlia does it, it's only his problem when he gets a boner from thinking about it.
Lohen is pulled–no, yanked–from his thoughts when the head of Flins's dick presses against his hole. A whine is punched from his throat as it slips in with little resistance, and Flins moans so debauched above him. "More," Lohen breathes, sifting his hand through his gray and red locks, "I can take it."
Each inch has Lohen inhaling sharper, gasping lower, as he's impaled by Flins's dick. He lets out a shameless moan as Flins's hips meet his ass, a mixed feeling of relief and dejection flooding his brain. Dejection, because he was hoping it would feel deeper like this, in a body that's never taken dick like this before.
"Mmngh... good boy," he sighs, and Flins's dick twitches inside him. The stifled gasp from above him is very telling. "You like that, hmm?"
"Yes," Flins admits, dipping his head low enough that he's breathing onto Lohen's neck. "You're irresistible. It's maddening."
How does he use Geo again...? Right.
Lohen manifests a collar around Flins's neck, having the end of his chain land in his folded hands. He tugs the chain forward, the force making Flins grind forward. Flins whimpers above him.
"Be a good boy and fuck me now, 'kay?" Lohen says, turning his head just enough so that their eyes meet. Something dangerous flares in Flins's eyes, and Lohen's stomach flutters. Gods does he need Flins to fuck him yesterday.
It's with a stuttered thrust that Lohen finally begins to get what he deserves. Flins starts slow, working his way up to a decent pace. "Yes," Flins hisses, hanging his head forward further, "yes, aah– ah!"
Their hips meet in the middle, Lohen slapping their hips together with a harsh clap. Flins's dick grazes his prostate just enough to draw a sharp whine each time. It's acceptable. It'll do. But then Flins hits his prostate dead on, and he remembers the point of this entire fiasco. He needs to be fucked out of his mind, to forget that he's not in his own body, not in his own country, not back in his apartment sleeping in on his day off.
It's still not enough, Lohen thinks forlornly, it's not fucking enough. Flins treats Illuga like he's something to be cherished, which for all purposes is fine, except for right now. Not when Lohen's itching to be fucked like a sex toy, to have his face shoved into a table and have his hole abused until he's drooling another's spend.
"Harder," Lohen yells, "use me like a fleshlight, dammit!" He yanks the chain, and Flins whimpers so pathetically he feels like he's back in Dahlia's apartment, when they would explore each other drunkenly. He wonders, is Illuga doing the same thing right now? He can't even be mad at the thought. It's hot to imagine Dahlia finally being put in his place for once.
Flins's thrusts speed up, he fucks into Lohen brutally, and Lohen claws at the table in his bliss. "You feel so good, young master," Flins rasps, taking Lohen's earlobe into his mouth and sucking. Lohen shivers, bucking his hips back harder and sobbing when Flins's dick reaches further than before. "Am.. am I satisfactory enough for you?"
"Mmhmm– yeaahh," Lohen whines, now vaguely aware that he's drooling all over the table, "fuuuckkk, you're so deep! I–I can– uhnnghhh– feel it in my stomach!"
Flins practically collapses atop of Lohen as he spills into him, cumming with a lewd groan and a chant of Illuga's name. He moves to pull out but Lohen stretches his leg back, wrapping it around the back of Flins's knees and shoving him forward once again. Flins sobs out as his dick penetrates Lohen once more, and Lohen squeezes him for all he's worth.
"You... think you're–ah– done?" Lohen huffs, turning his head to look back at Flins. The man is red-faced and doused in sweat, tears clinging to his lashes and mouth parted as he heaves for breath.
"No," Flins says, wrapping his hand around Lohen's dick, "not until you are, young master..."
As he speaks, Flins begins to stroke his hand up and down Lohen's dick. Lohen moans lewdly again, grinding into Flins's hand as he works Lohen to completion. "Ugh–! Good... boy," Lohen rasps, grinning as Flins ruts against him at the praise, "that what you– oh– wanna hear? Wanna hear all about how good you– hah– fuck me?"
"Young master..."
Flins is already growing hard inside him again. A shiver runs through Lohen's body–or, would it be Illuga's body? Whatever— as Flins begins to shallowly thrust into him. "More– harder!" Lohen demands, shoving his hips back into Flins's, "Aah– aahn–?! Wait–!"
Lohen cums with no warning, ruining the table more and more with each spasm of his orgasm. He drops his head into his arms, gasping for breath as Flins keeps rutting into him like an animal. He's gotten his wish, he thinks as tears poke at his eyes, low huffs of "ah"s and "oh"s leaving his chapped lips with each time he's thrust against the table. It hurts, it stings and aches so beautifully, his legs manage to be both numb and on fire at the same time. He has no control over the sounds that leave his mouth anymore, and he prays that he doesn't mindlessly babble something that reveals the truth. That he isn't who Flins thinks he's fucking. That he's a fake, that their bodies got swapped and the first thing he went to do was go and get laid.
Hah, Lohen thinks to himself, it's both a completely stupid and believable scenario for him to get himself into. He's never been good at thinking with his brain whenever he sees a pretty man, after all. Even he doesn't know how he's survived this far.
Another debilitating thrust to his prostate breaks him from his thoughts, and Lohen subjects himself to riding out whatever libido this eccentric man possesses. He only hopes that it doesn't completely compromise his lower half in the process.
...
...
The bird arrives a few hours later with an envelope. Flins hums from where he's sat at the bench, eyeing the letter with curiosity. "I'll be back," Lohen says, his voice hoarse.
He takes the envelope to inside the lighthouse, dumping the contents onto the table as the bird lands on his shoulder. Two letters fall out, clearly written:
Lohen,
I did what you asked. He says we should meet him in his laboratory in three days for any news. I've attached a letter in my handwriting asking the Starshyna, Nikita, for three days off of my patrols. Could you get Aedon to send it to him, then come to Mondstadt as soon as you are able? I'll be in your apartment for the time being.
Also... are you certain that you didn't do a weird ritual or spell? I highly doubt this happened without a cause.
I'm in your care,
Illuga
...
"It's as I suspected then."
Lohen startles, muscle memory kicking in as he reaches for where his dagger would be on his person. He turns to face Flins, who materializes in the doorway in a plume of blue smoke. Only his silhouette is visible apart from his eyes, which glow a bright yellow.
"Hmm? What is?" Lohen hums. Any attempt to save face is good considering how he's cornered. "Are you feeling alright?"
Flins's eyes narrow.
"You're not the real Illuga, are you?"