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honeydots · 1 year

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"Please don't leave me." xanlow, 1.9k twitter request, from this ask game

Inigo is hiding in a surprisingly not-disgusting bar bathroom.

It’s pretty early in the night, any crowds dwindling away, and Inigo can hear a light chatter of patrons through the door. He’s the only one in here, which is good, because hiding in a bathroom is uncomfortable enough as it is. He doesn’t need company.

He’s stuck remembering something. Inigo, a good six years ago, was one of a lucky few who regained memories of his past life. And that’s always supposed to be some romantic, exciting thing. Something everybody’s meant to hope and wish for, so they can seek out whatever they treasured so dearly that it followed them into a new lifetime.

But the thing is, Inigo’s past life sucked a lot. He’s older now than he was when he died back then. And he went through a lot of nasty—well, shit—too. So he even doesn’t talk about it much, it’s just this looming part of him. Mostly, Inigo mopes about getting nightmares and flashbacks to a life that’s already done and over with.

But there was—one thing. Which, now that he’s thought about it for six whole years, he figures is probably that special treasure he wanted to carry with him. No matter how short and sad his life was, there was something there worth remembering.

Inigo had a lover. A man, a prince, named Xander. Inigo served him, loved him, was so totally fond that it was near blinding. And he remembers how much he was willing to give up for his sake—his very life, even.

When Inigo met his end, he and Xander were both about to die. They were in Valla (which, might he add, is a very normal country now), after Laslow failed to do what he was tasked with and Anankos proceeded to ruin them all. The land broke apart and crumbled, the sky plunged into darkness, and it felt like the world was raining upon them. And eventualy, a tall splinter of that world lodged into Inigo’s gut.

He was on a little corner of what was left of the ground, Xander quietly alongside him. Everything was going away. It was too late, they were witnessing the consequences of the inevitable. And in those final moments, Xander very gently held Inigo, resting his head on his lap.

Inigo felt showered with affection, Xander kindly petting his hair and soothing him away. The sounds of destruction started fading, Inigo’s vision was darkening at the edges. And he was afraid.

“Please, don’t leave me,” Inigo begged, too weak to even lift his arms and find Xander above him. Xander just brushed his thumb across Inigo’s cheek, with a gentleness which was reserved for only their most intimate nights.

“Where else would I go?”

And then Inigo died. Right there. He was the one who left Xander in the end. The memory of the pain is gone, and the memory of that dragon even farther—but he still remembers how Xander’s curls framed around his face as he helped Inigo drift to peace.

Right. So. How does this relate to Inigo currently hiding in a bar bathroom?

Inigo came here after a performance with a couple of his co-dancers. They’ll do that sometimes, just for fun, and Inigo likes to be invited. But one of them got far too drunk, and the other offered to drive them home. Inigo wanted to finish his drink first, but then he was going to catch a bus and go on his way. A pretty standard way to end the night.

Except! Oh boy. The very object of Inigo’s past life affections happened to walk right through the door, entirely unaware of who might've been waiting for him.

Inigo didn’t know what to do when he saw. But he’s well versed in the flight instinct, so into the bathroom he fled. So now he’s crouched in one of the bland stalls, trying to figure out just what he should do.

Inigo isn’t sure if Xander saw him or not. Or, if Xander did see him, if he knows that Inigo saw him. But without question, that was Xander. Inigo isn't sure he’d be capable of forgetting him.

Just when Inigo was thinking again of how glad he is that he’s alone in here, the bathroom door opened right up. With a cringe, he hunches closer into himself, feeling awkward and thinking he should probably just get out. If Xander didn’t see him, then what if he leaves, and Inigo misses his chance?

His chance to do what, exactly, though. There’s no guarantee Xander remembers. What if he’s already in a relationship? Inigo doesn’t want to even know if that’s the case, jealousy and disappointment hurt his chest enough with only the thought.

And even if Xander isn’t, Inigo didn’t exactly woo him with his flirtatious charm. It was more like they were both conveniently placed, and then stumbled into love. Could he get Xander to stumble enough tonight?

“Laslow?”

Inigo freezes. His breathing quickens, and he clamps a hand over his mouth. Oh, Gods. He was seen, wasn't he, and followed in. He shuts his eyes, feeling the deep rush of emotion over hearing what was surely Xander’s voice again.

Inigo takes too long trying to figure out how to answer. There are a few silent beats, then he hears footsteps begin walking out. Inigo’s mouth has gone dry, and his throat feels so full, but still, he—

“I, um. I don’t go by that, actually,” Inigo manages, his voice wavering significantly. He sniffs, trying to calm himself, and he notices the footsteps have paused. “Laslow’s a stage name. Though I’m trying to get it to catch on. But it was—never my proper name, either.”

Inigo stands, slowly and wobbly and leaves the corner he was huddled in. With his hands shaking in anticipation, he unlatches the lock, then peers over the door.

It really is Xander. Still tall and scowling, pretty blond locks and dark eyes. It’s almost funny to see him in a button up and slacks, with a neat tie and a long black jacket. He looks out of place, somewhere like this. Though Inigo might just be too used to seeing him by a throne, with a crown.

“It’s Inigo.”

Xander’s eyes widen a bit. He presses his lips together, and stands in a short silence. “…Inigo.”

A tingling thrill sweeps through Inigo just hearing it. “Xander?” he says, and Xander gives just one little nod. Inigo looks to his feet, and decides getting out of the bathroom was a smart idea, earlier. “Could we talk outside?”

And out they go, quite wordlessly, into the chilly night. They stand in an alley next to the bar, watching as customers occasionally amble in or out. The cold air has Inigo wishing he could stand a little closer to Xander, but he’s really not sure if… That’s okay.

“You look well,” Xander says, in a familiarly stiff way that makes Inigo’s whole heart melt. Inigo didn’t really question it before, but—there isn’t a doubt in his mind that Xander’s what he cherished so deeply to need to find again.

“You, too,” Inigo replies. He weakly smirks and glances down. “I, uh. I’m surprised to have found you in a bar, of all places.”

Xander exhales, breath barely visible in the darkness of the night. “My sister insisted on bringing me here yesterday. I realized I forgot my watch.”

“Ah,” Inigo says, imagining that must’ve been Camilla. “Did you get it?”

“Yes.” Xander rubs his wrist, and reveals a shiny watch under his sleeve. Inigo grins.

“That’s good.” He omits adding the thought of it looking expensive. Knowing Xander, it probably is.

…Knowing Xander.

“Inigo, you said?” Xander asks, and Inigo gets yet another tingly feeling. It was so forbidden to say it before, it almost feels like he’s doing something he shouldn’t. But that was then, and this is now.

“That’s me,” Inigo says. He rubs his hands together, then fiddles with his knuckle bones. “If it’s too strange, um. You don’t have to use it. I… I quite liked being Laslow. Assuming, uh, that you… Uh.”

“I remember,” Xander fills in, to which Inigo sighs out a nice breath of relief.

“I really thought so, but. Well, I’m—I’m always second guessing, I feel like.”

They both go quiet for a bit. There are less people on the streets now, all the clutter clearing away. Nights in Nohr are just as dark as they used to be. Inigo moved here because he missed it. Even if he misses the sunshine sometimes, too, this felt right.

Inigo shuts his eyes. Life is different here, and better, even if he craves some of what he lost. Because Gods, did he lose.

“I’m sorry for how it ended,” Inigo says, voice in a lower register and trying to keep himself steady. It's not easy to keep from getting choked up. Xander sighs very slowly.

“It was hardly your fault.” But Inigo shakes his head.

“Still I—I pretty much failed you in every way I shouldn’t have.” He could never stop himself from thinking that he wasn’t very good at saving people, nor worlds. He doesn’t understand why any fate put him up to the task. Perhaps it was something cruel.

Xander scowls, just some, looking more thoughtful than irritated. “I should’ve kept you safe.”

“That wasn’t your job,” Inigo says. Xander glances over to him, eyes full of a quiet grief.

“Wasn’t it?”

Inigo doesn’t have anything to say. He had a weight to carry, sure, but so did Xander. What a burden, being a prince like that. He lost just as much as Inigo did. Had just the same lack of a home to return to, in the end.

Life then, like Inigo said, sucked.

Xander puts his hands into his jacket pockets. “Are you—busy, tonight?”

Inigo tries to push his worst thoughts away, grinning instead and composing himself. He hates to wallow in this, he’s done that enough. “Nope. I was just about to go home and, um. Rest my feet, I guess,” he says, and Xander raises his eyebrows. “I had a performance earlier, you see. And I hate waking up sore.”

Something lifts in Xander’s expression. “Do you still dance?”

“It’s my whole job now,” Inigo continues, pleased he can actually say that. “Freelance, mostly.”

Xander smiles at him, one of those awkward ones that never matches his wrinkles. “I’ll have to get a ticket.” He inhales, and glances away for just a second. “Do you need a ride?”

Inigo bites his bottom lip. “I’d love one.”

Xander takes Inigo home, and then he stays for a while. They take in cheap electric heat from space heaters, and they talk, and drink, and get to know each other again. It’s a peace they never really had before.

Deep into the night, Xander loves Inigo the way he used to. Leaning over him, pretty blond curls lose, and Inigo runs his fingers through. And after, Inigo finds he doesn’t want to fall asleep.

He lays next to him, and he thinks he won’t be leaving Xander this time. He won’t do that again. Inigo was lucky to find Xander in his past life, and he was lucky to find him here.

Neither of them have roles anymore. They don’t need them, either. All Inigo wants is to try and live again. In ways he never got the chance to.

And with Xander, he thinks he can.

#THANKS FOR THE REQUEST!!!#this one turned out long but i. was inspired. djfksdfj #was put deeply into the mood for reincarnation aus so. hehehe.#thanks again~!#dots writing games

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