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The knock at his door makes him groan. He presses escape and takes his earbuds out, padding over to peer through the peephole.
That's... Not who he would've guessed.
Lucius opens the door anyway.
"What the hell are you doing here?" he asks bluntly, leaning on the doorjamb.
It's Izzy from work, still in his workwear, and—Lucius turns to check the clock—fresh from work, judging by the time.
Izzy gives him an up-and-down look. He doesn't look impressed by the magenta pajama pants. "People were worried you didn't show up. Figured you needed a welfare check."
"Ugh. I've been texting back." Delayed, but he's answered every time. "How'd you get that job?"
Izzy lifts a hand, which is holding a familiar loop on one finger. "I have your spare key."
"Oh." Leave it to Stede to fob off even checking on him in person. He only has the key in the first place after Lucius was a little wild with fevered delirium that one time and everyone worried about not being able to get to him if something happened again. Fruits of those choices are standing on his threshold now. He pulls the door open wider for Izzy to enter. "I took a couple days off of work. Come on, I have to hurry back."
Izzy removes his shoes and puts them neatly on the mat next to where Lucius has a messy collection of his own shoes. The plasticky texture of his left foot scuffs into the carpet. "Are you feeling okay, Twatty?"
"Yeah, no, I'm fine, I've just got a large dragon egg about to hatch." He hurries back to his office, assuming Izzy will follow, and pops an earbud back into one ear. He presses escape to clear the menu. There's a lot of bustling animal noises filling one ear now. All is well.
"What the fuck is this?" Izzy mutters, looking over Lucius' shoulder at the game. The bright colors are eyecatching, even for people that don't regularly play video games, as Lucius imagines Izzy doesn't.
"Palworld. It's like Pokémon, but more about exploring and setting up things. My base is run by Pals." He does a spin-around, showing more of the area.
"Pokémon," Izzy repeats grimly.
"Were you not much into Pokémon, then?"
"No..." Izzy dismisses, not moving his eyes from the screen. "All the fucking... cards, and pixel games, and all of it was just the same things with obsessive fans. This looks almost... good. Real."
It makes sense, Izzy being Gen X, that Pokémon would pass him by. But Lucius was hard into it as a kid. He thought he'd grown out of it, now that he was an adult with a job and a queer life to get on with. Shame this sort of thing appeals so much to how queer he is, to the point he's finally using some vacation days.
"Yeah. Nintendo totally dropped the ball on what the people really want. It's got its issues, but I've got a nice little set-up. Logging, stone, sphere-creation. I've learned a lot the past few days." If he could do it over, there's some improvements he would certainly make. Not throwing everything together on the ground as he learns them, for example. Making sure there's pathing opportunities for larger Pals, for another.
"You made this in a few days."
"Mhm." Lucius spams crouch as the egg reaches the final sixty seconds. He's excited to show someone, even if that someone is Izzy, what he's been up to, and this is the culmination of a lot of hard work and fuck-ups. "Do you... want to open this egg?"
Izzy hesitates. "It's yours."
"I've already opened a few I've found." It's true, but none of them have been a dragon egg. It's sure to be something brand new, and he'd been excited for almost an hour now waiting for it to hatch. Lucius turns the keyboard. "Go ahead and open this one. Just hold 'F'."
Izzy flicks his eyes over to meet Lucius'. He puts on an encouraging smile. Izzy presses a single finger to the key. The meter fills...
"What is that?" Izzy asks with some awe.
"I have no idea!" Lucius squeals with excitement. He taps over to the new pal and throws it and—
"Oh my god its face!" The perfect, fluffy white dragon that looks fresh out of a winter wonderland with its huge wings and eyes stares through the screen back at them. Lucius can hardly handle it. "It's so cute!"
"What's it called?"
"Um..." Lucius opens the PalDeck, scrolling all the way to #095. "Quivern! Sleeping while cuddling a Quivern is said to be a heavenly experience, but there are some who have been crushed and sent to heaven by ones that toss and turn in their sleep."
The dark humor makes Izzy smile. "How many not-Pokémons are there?"
"Over a hundred. The game just released, so it'll get a lot of updates, too." Lucius bites his lip. "It's got multiplayer, but I've not got anyone to play with."
Izzy hums. "Hiding at home all weekend into Monday can't have helped."
"A four-day weekend with PTO isn't that long. But I have to go back to work at some point, I guess." He runs out of his house's door, moving some supplies from their workbenches to the chests.
"Are those cats?" Izzy asks tentatively.
"Yep. I make them work for me. You can have a seat, if you want?" The offer hangs between them. Izzy straightens up, and he can feel the man pulling away. He feels desperate to keep him here a little longer. "I was going to order dinner, too."
"I was just here to make sure you weren't choking on your own vomit, Twatty," Izzy says gently, straightening up. He pats the back of Lucius' desk chair. "You keep playing your little game."
"Okay, fine. Fine." Lucius smiles through the disappointment(?) He shouldn't be feeling that disappointed. The game is fun, but it would be more fun with someone else. "Off with you. Leave the spare key in the bowl by the door, thaaaanks."
He'll worry about getting that key back to Stede later. Or maybe not Stede, if he's so willing to hand it out to just anyone.
The door shuts with a muffled click.
He names the Quivern "Mr. Hands."
---
Lucius does have to go back to work the next day, unfortunately. Being Stede Bonnet's assistant is its own kind of hell, yes, but to the man's credit, he understands mental health days. 'Understand' as in, Lucius can take them, but Stede will continue to send him things and ideas he thinks are important on his days off. Still, the pay is good enough.
Since the Queen Anne merger, Izzy has been Lucius' counterpart for Ed Teach. When it first happened, Lucius will be the first to say the only way he imagined he and Izzy getting along was after a long hate-fuck. But since Izzy's accident a year ago when the man lost his leg, he's been... almost pleasant. Like he's drained all of his anger and pain, leaving behind a snarky, smart little shit. Their relationship now is more performatively-contentious than it once was.
He passes Izzy's desk, not looking his way but still feeling the other man's eyes on him.
"Oh, what horror is in that cup?"
Showtime. Lucius pushes up his sunglasses and cocks his hip. "Something sweeter than your black tar heroin. Iced brown sugar oat milk shaken espresso with two pumps of caramel."
Izzy looks like he always does these days: tired, but amused. In a black shirt he hasn't buttoned up all the way with a vest over top.
"Always with the caramel," Izzy grouses, sipping from his mug of black coffee he always makes in the break room. He'll pour himself a cup even if it's been sitting out for hours because he has no class. "And oat milk. Like you have some kind of diet restriction."
"I don't. It just tastes good." He sticks his tongue out and flounces, swinging his hips, to his own desk.
When time to leave hits, Lucius is already collecting his things; His computer is shutting down, the phone is routed to their general line. He's debating ordering Thai or Indian. He doesn't feel up to cooking. He wants to feel like he's in university again, just for a few more days, when the fun is still fresh.
"Twatty."
"Hm?" Lucius looks up, shoving his notebook into the crook of his other arm as he keeps collecting his things as quickly as possible.
He slows when he sees Izzy is standing awkwardly, shuffling his feet. "You still playing that game, then?"
"Yeah," Lucius says slowly, uncertain of where this is going. "I was on my way home to play some. Why?"
"I..." The man is clearly fighting with himself, which only serves to make Lucius more suspicoius. Izzy isn't generally insecure. He always seems pretty confident, unless he thinks he's holding someone back with his leg. "I looked it up a bit. Was on sale. I thought..."
"Did you buy Palworld?" Lucius gapes.
Izzy looks more uncomfortable. "I guess. I haven't..."
"Oh my god, we have to play together! Please?" he begs reaching a hand out to grab Izzy's forearm. The first person to get the game and want to play with him isn't even one of his friends, it's his grumpy coworker!
Izzy is looking down at where Lucius is gripping, blinking a few times. His keys are probably digging into his arm. Whoops. He lets go quickly.
"Yeah, Twatty, we can play," Izzy mumbles, eyes coming back up to meet his and that's the best thing Lucius has heard today.
"Yes, okay, give me your number. I've got so much to show you."
---
Izzy's voice sounds different through the microphone. It brings out different notes of his voice Lucius has never heard, like the soft growl when he clears his throat and the underlying breathiness hiding in the grit of his Northern accent.
"Have you played games before?" Lucius asks him, letting the game load.
"Have a laptop, don't I?"
"Yeah, but do you use it to like, play solitaire?"
Izzy snorts. There's a long pause. "... Yes."
Knew it. He blinks with a realization. "Oh, do you even know WASD?"
"I got a controller," Izzy says awkwardly. "Is that enough?"
"That's plenty," Lucius assures. He texts the code for the server, slouching more into his seat and getting ready to watch Izzy learn the game.
It's like watching the most interesting National Geographic show.
The first thing Izzy starts to do is hoard. He picks up everything he sees without hesitation. When the tutorial tells him to make something, he doesn't have to go out and find anything more—he already has double. Lucius happily mooches off of the workbench he makes, and the trees and stones he hacks away at.
The first pal Izzy tries to catch is a Cattiva.
He punches it into submission.
When Lucius explains the traits system, Izzy mutters it's a Coward. When Lucius says it's nameable and can walk with him, Izzy throws out Jack and they're off.
They start exploring, setting up farms, collecting workers. Lucius insists they use Depressos as their main workforce.
"You fucking millennial," Izzy sneers at him, smile audible.
"Look at this girlie mining and tell me that's not a mood," Lucius challenges in return. "Look me in the eye and tell me that isn't how you feel every time Stede asks you to start a Slack conversation about this for me Izzy, won't you?"
Izzy's avatar, which looks decently like if Izzy had gravity-defying hair and an extra four inches of height, turns to stare at Lucius'. They stare into each other's souls for a solid minute before Izzy turns and walks away.
Lucius marks that as a victory, laughing and using the dance emote to celebrate.
The only break they take is to grab food. They stay on the line even when they eat.
"Did you just throw a sphere at a thug?" Lucius shouts through his Pad Thai. He quickly shoves the noodles in with his chopsticks and a slurp. "I didn't even know you could do that!"
"It was an accident," Izzy admits, chuckling. The sphere wiggles in the air a second time, sparkling with a capture.
"Christ, you would commit war crimes on your first day."
It wasn't the last war crime Izzy commits by the time they end the night. He figures out how to make a harness for a Foxsparks and clears out an entire enemy camp with it as a flamethrower to rescue a Jolthog, like some sort of avenging angel.
Lucius smiles himself to sleep, now knowing the office dick known as Israel Hands has a soft spot for anything cute. He entertains the fantasy that it could extend to himself, if he could carry himself a little cuter, too.
---
Playing with Izzy quickly becomes his favorite thing. A lot of their discoveries together are new, filled with a ton of "What the fuck is that?" (Izzy) and "I have to have that" (Lucius) and "These fucking deer. Can you get me up?" (Izzy) and "Do you have any food? I'm hungry again" (Lucius). Lucius can always hear the awe in Izzy's voice when they find something new, and the dismay when it tries to kill him.
They play every night for the rest of the week. Being sassy at work is one thing, but there's no high quite like fucking with Izzy.
On Thursday, their breeding pens have started bearing fruit.
"That looks amazing," Lucius gushes, reading the Pal's description. He hurries over to where Izzy is sorting the many wooden chests. "Izzy, Izzy! Come look at the Wumpo Botan!"
Lucius throws down the massive capture, grinning.
"Da—" The silence following is so loud, Lucius starts to cackle. He doesn't need to see Izzy's face to know the dead stare he must have at his screen.
Daddy the Wumpo Botan is already off logging with his giant axe.
"I won't be able to ride him until level 45, so we have plenty of time," Lucius drawls.
He can hear the fuming in the long exhale Izzy lets out.
On Friday, they're clearing another dungeon.
"That's the sixth fucking 80% chance I just fucking failed!" Izzy yells in frustration.
Lucius bites his lip to try not to giggle. "Your luck has been shit, hasn't it?"
"It's been beyond statistically fucking improbable!"
There's a long bout of silence, until Lucius can hear the tapping of a keyboard.
"Are you starting an Excel spreadsheet right now?" Lucius asks bluntly.
"Maybe."
He starts to pout and whines, "Izzy, it's Friday night! No work!"
"This isn't work," Izzy objects. "It's the fucking principle of it!"
Lucius rolls his eyes, running past Izzy toward the end of the dungeon. "If you load up tomorrow with a shitty spreadsheet trying to convince me the luck percentages are 0.5% off or something, I'm going to hang up." He pauses, then, "If—If you even wanted to play tomorrow. Obviously it's Saturday, I wouldn't assume."
"My spreadsheets aren't fucking shitty."
Lucius jumps in to cover his fuck-up. Don't let Izzy consider tomorrow right now. "No, of course not, babes," he says with sickly-sweet condescension. "I love getting your plain-ass worksheets in my inbox, no color-coding, no graph."
"Better than your fucking pink monstrosities." Izzy has always been vocal about the way Lucius lays out data, but pink monstrosities is a new one. It sounds more like a Starbucks drink than a line graph. Maybe he can convince one of the baristas to make something like that.
Or...
Izzy interrupts his evil planning. "I don't have anything on. Tomorrow. Meal prep, but that's done by noon."
Lucius hums. "Meal prep. That does explain your depressing little lunch boxes."
"My lunches don't cost an hour's wage and taste better than whatever you try to scramble together." Fuck Izzy Hands and how right he is. Lucius' lunches tend to be very mid from the cafe near the office. Izzy's lunches, in spite of how they're always arranged like a middle schooler's mom packed them, do look delicious.
"I guess," Lucius shrugs, even if Izzy can't see it, refusing to admit anything. What if he could see it, though? He bites his lip. "You play on your laptop, right? You could come over."
"... Sure." Just that simple, is it? Lucius' heart leaps. He furiously smashes it down. This is not a date, this is two grown men playing video games in the same house.
Two grown queer men, which, in Lucius' experience, can always go other ways. But Lucius isn't that lucky and Izzy isn't that kind of gay, by his guess.
That doesn't mean he's not going to push his luck. "We could order dinner, even."
Izzy snorts. "Fuck no. I'm not eating any of your shitty takeaway." The sound of hair being scratched and a short huff come through the mic. "I'll bring something."
It's true, he has been ordering a lot of takeaway this week. Not because he wants it or the reheated leftovers, but because he finds himself not wanting to leave the call with Izzy any longer than he absolutely has to. He isn't going to think hard about why.
“Great. If you’re here, I can finally force you into the Tower and not have to hear you say we’re not ready,” Lucius teases.
"If I'm there, I can finally force you to eat something with less salt," comes the threatening response.
"Oh, bless, my skin is totally drying out." He presses a hand to his cheek, as though to feel it under his beard.
"Your skin is fine," Izzy says, exasperated.
Lucius quirks his mouth. "Nice to know someone is looking."
It makes Izzy sputter until they're running for their lives from punching grassy pandas.
---
The knock at his door is three firm hits. Even though he's expecting Izzy, the noise makes his heart jump into his throat. Izzy doesn't know the etiquette of texting before coming up. He pulls his blouse a little straighter. Getting himself dressed, on a Saturday, with no intention of leaving the house. What has his life come to?
He opens the door, eyes taking in the two steamed-up tupperwares—Is that pasta?—in Izzy's hands and the bag he has thrown over a shoulder. He's got a nice button-up on, just the sort he'd wear to work, but there's no vest over it. Today, it's hidden under a very soft-looking grey jumper.
He'd blend right in with dads on the sidelines of a football field. Isn't that an image?
"Brought spag bol," Izzy mutters his announcement. No, he didn't. He brought spaghetti noodles in one container and the sauce in another. Lucius gets the feeling reheating it will involve actual pots and pans and not just his microwave. His neglected stove might weep with joy.
He jerks his head to gesture Izzy inside. "C'mon. Server's already up."
Izzy drops the food off in the kitchen before he joins Lucius in the computer room. He's pulled out an old office chair from a closet and left enough space on his desk for Izzy to set down his laptop. It's not the beat-up thing he was expecting. It looks much newer. They don't have much space to share, so they're pressed as close as the chairs allow. It makes Lucius' nerves thrum, getting to spend time with an actual person outside of meetings and Stede Bonnet again. The game's been out only a week, and his social life has devolved so much that this excites him.
"I should've asked if you wanted something to drink," Lucius realizes as Izzy's game boots up.
Izzy waves him off, squinting at Lucius' screen. "Later. What the fuck did you do to the house?"
Lucius preens, showing off the decorative houseplants and benches. "Made it super cottagecore!"
It still takes him a couple hours to convince Izzy that yes, they are ready for the Tower, bring the best Pals they have between them, and plenty of arrows.
Lucius times it carefully. It can’t be the first Pal he throws, that’s too obvious. It has to be a switch right when Izzy is just distracted enough.
Daddy thumps around the arena, paired with Izzy's ferocious little Mau he's named after his actual cat Pumpkin. They're both formidable, but the fight with the legally-distinct electric bear is still tough.
It happens when Izzy gets downed by a big shockwave. He's cursing out the game for not letting him dodge and pulling him back into the ability, and Lucius knows its his time to shine. He tosses in the fluffy pink Woolipop and runs to pick Izzy up.
"Watch out for that lightning ball," Izzy is warning him. "You're fine, it's going for—... Pink Monstrosity the fucking cotton candy sheep. Who is breathing dragon fire at it."
"Yep," Lucius pops his lips, a shit-eating grin on his face.
Izzy shakes his head. "I'm not even surprised anymore. That's just on-fucking-brand." He has a smirk he's unable to fully stifle.
"Well, Daddy got really hurt. I couldn't just leave him there." Lucius lets the double-entendre sit between them like hot candle wax. He pretends to be very focused on hitting his crossbow shots and not how warm his face and chest feels. How red Izzy's ears are.
The focus works out well enough; the first tower boss crumbles beneath their combined power. Lucius looks over to see Izzy turning his camera around at the top of the tower, looking at the scenery.
"Could have a picnic at a place like this," Lucius says.
"Wind would be shit in real life," Izzy counters.
"Part of the charm."
Maybe he can show Izzy a different game one of these days, one with graphics through the roof, that's an experience just to walk around in. VR, even. Let him go walking through mystic forests and handdrawn animations and share chocolates while he sits with creatures beyond imagination.
"Quit staring at me," Izzy suddenly demands and oh fuck.
"I was waiting for you to offer spaghetti," he lies, flapping his hand to distract.
Izzy exhales sharply through his nose, setting his controller down on the desk. "Fine. You have any pots, or just a microwave?"
He warms up the sauce and pasta separately, combining them only at the end when it smells amazing, because of course he does. Lucius has never been picky about his leftovers, but eating Izzy's spaghetti bolognese is transcendental. They eat standing right in the kitchen, and he makes sure to compliment the cooking between bites and plans for what to do next (explore the northeast is on the agenda, and Izzy wants to see if they can reach "Yggdrasil", the giant tree they can always see).
He takes the plate from Izzy and puts it in the sink. Normally Lucius would leave it there, but having someone else in the house makes him want to give off a decent impression of someone that washes his dishes more than once every three days. He's rinsing them when he realizes Izzy has gone quiet. A quick look has him furrowing his brow.
Izzy is fidgeting.
"What's the matter with you?" he asks outright. Izzy's finger rubbing and weight shuffling put him on edge. Maybe he's sick of standing around, and judging Lucius for not having a table.
Izzy avoids his eyes and tilts his head toward the fridge. "Brought a dessert, too."
That's unexpected. Lucius gasps, affronted. "I'm sorry, you brought sugar and didn't tell me?" He hastily wipes his hands on a towel and opens the fridge to check.
There's a third tupperware. He definitely didn't see this one when Izzy came in, did he have it in his bag? He reaches for it, looking through. It looks like a bit of cake, with strawberries and caramel drizzle topping maybe?
Izzy gently takes the container, serving up the two slices while Lucius tries not to vibrate too obviously.
"It's tres leches," Izzy says, putting the plate in front of Lucius. He still looks uncomfortable. "You always get caramel in your shitty drinks."
"This looks delicious." Lucius picks up his fork and he's so glad to be regularly right about things. "This tastes delicious. Did you make this, too?"
Izzy hasn't picked up his own fork yet. He grunts an affirmation.
"Now I just feel spoiled." Lucius pouts his lips. "I can't cook you anything or make amazing cake." That you made because you pay enough attention to my coffee orders to notice caramel is my favorite flavor. Oh fuck. "Why'd you make this, anyhow?"
"Wanted to." Izzy finally takes up his fork and slices the tiniest of bites to put between his lips.
Lucius licks his own lips, watching. "Izzy, do you even like caramel?"
"... 's okay."
Lucius bobs his head a few times. "Uh huh. You just. Wanted to make a cake. Drenching it in an ingredient you don't even like. For me."
Izzy stays quiet, spinning the cake slowly with his fork.
Lucius takes another bite. Lets the sweetness melt on his tongue. Swallows. Reluctantly sets his fork down. He might need the sugar as consolation when Izzy goes running out the door after what he's about to do. "Okay. You know I really value communication. So. I really like our banter. Very good bants, I feel like I can be properly bitchy with you and you won't take it the wrong way. My vibe is it's kind of like flirting. Do you feel that, too?"
Izzy looks up, like he's been hit over the head with a sledgehammer. "Wh—"
"Is that what this is? Is this cake a friendly gesture or a romantic one?"
Izzy is flushed, beyond flushed, to the point where he might not be breathing. Lucius waits patiently for an answer anyway. He gets a word spit at him. "Yeah."
"Sorry, babes, I need more than that." He pinches the strawberry gracing the top of his slice like a perfect capstone and lifts it up to eye level. A white cake, with strawberries. And he drizzled it in caramel. "Izzy. Is this supposed to be the cake the Pals use for breeding in the pens?" He bites the strawberry.
"N—!" The man chokes on his own objection, swallowing the noise. At least it kickstarts his breathing again. "No, it—I just made it, okay? F—Fuck's sake, for you."
"Beeeecause?" Lucius checks.
"I like you, God help me."
Lucius doesn't let Izzy stew in his own self-disgust (though he doubts it has anything to do with Lucius, and probably has something to do with his self-esteem issues) and uses his fingers to pinch at Izzy's sweater. "I like you, too. That's not so hard, is it? ... Would you like to kiss?"
Izzy's breath hitches, but Lucius doesn't move closer even when Izzy's eyes look at him with so much... adoration. That's a little more than 'like', and Lucius doesn't find it scary at all. "Yes."
Lucius tries at first for that gentle, perfect kiss, but it doesn't give him nearly enough of a taste. Izzy is soft and eager and giving in equal measure. It's easy to coax Izzy's lips apart to slide his tongue in. The scrape of their facial hair together sends a shiver down his spine. He pulls back before they're too far gone.
Lucius lets a lazy smile drag across his face. "You could... stay the night?"
"You have a spare room?"
"No," he says, drawing Izzy even closer.
---
"Well, we have two hours until that egg hatches..." Lucius trails off, smirking as Izzy keeps his eyes on his laptop. He leans in, rolling his chair closer to his boyfriend. "Whatever could we do in the meantime?"
"Can't imagine," Izzy murmurs, refusing to blink as Lucius presses a kiss under his jaw. He lets himself be pushed back as Lucius crawls on his lap, kissing over his neck. "You've an idea, it looks like."
"Mmmmhm." Lucius drags his hand up Izzy's thigh.
There's the urgent noise of a raid coming through their earphones. Izzy pulls away to look. Lucius grabs his chin and pull him back in, pecking his lips again, feeling Izzy melt. "It's fine, we have like three Pals with grass tornado, they'll be okay."
Between the sweet kisses, Izzy whispers, "Did you remember to take Implode off of the chicken?"
"... All of the ones that matter will be okay."