#points like lyntel!!!!

[not-from-the-absence-of-violence]

TWEI'LEKS!!!

[waveridden]

FIC: i’m writing your name on every page

Now, Lyn doesn’t put much stock in culinary resumes. It’s impossible to say on paper alone whether a chef is any good. (Campaign restaurant AU, implied Tryst/Leenik, 1.1k)

AUcember || read on ao3

#

There’s something soothing about the chaos of a kitchen, the constant motion and coming and going. As soon as Lyn walks into the kitchen of GBS Ltd., she feels at home. Which, she supposes, is good, because she’s going to be spending a lot of time here.

“Chef Luroon?” a voice says to one side. She turns to see a strong-looking man with tattoos and a friendly smile, reaching out to shake her hand. “I’m Bacta, I’m the pastry chef. Welcome aboard.”

“Thank you,” Lyn says sincerely. “Happy to be here. You’re the one showing me the ropes today?”

“I am, although we’re already in the swing of things. As the new sous chef, I’m afraid you’re going to be jumping into the middle of things.”

“Afraid?” Lyn grins at him. “That’s what I’m here for.”

“Good,” Bacta says firmly. “Well, Chef Luroon-”

“Oh, Lyn, please.”

“Lyn, then. Leenik’s in a meeting with the sommelier right now, but he should be out eventually.”

“A meeting with the sommelier?” Lyn repeats. “About what?”

It’s either the wrong question to ask or the right one. Bacta sighs, a deep shoulder-heaving thing. “This is one of those things that is better witnessed than explained.”

Lyn arches an eyebrow at him; he only shrugs. “Let me show you around the kitchen. You’ll get it when they get done.”

Now, Lyn doesn’t put much stock in culinary resumes. You can work at the nicest restaurant and still not be a competent chef; you can be competent and work somewhere that isn’t “nice,” by restaurant standards. It’s impossible to say on paper alone whether a chef is any good.

That being said, Lyn knows she has a good resume. Good culinary school, good first job, good… everything. You don’t get to be the sous chef at GBS Ltd., one of the best comfort food restaurants in New York City, without a good resume. She met Chef Geelo half a dozen times while interviewing for the job, but she’s fairly sure that who she was on paper got her foot in the door.

But she talks to Bacta, and it sounds like he doesn’t have the same resume. It also doesn’t sound like he has any resume at all, outside of knowing how to bake. He’s only the pastry chef, one of half a dozen people in the kitchen, but Lyn can tell right away that he’s the one that people listen to.

(“I’m not the sous chef,” Bacta says at one point. “I don’t know how to cook enough of the stuff to be the sous chef.”

“But you’re in charge,” Lyn says, and it’s not a question.

Bacta only shrugs. “You seem like you’re going to be able to run things.”

“And you’ll be there if I can’t?”

“Someone has to,” he says, and that’s that.)

And she meets the rest of the chefs, and it’s all the same with them. Maybe they have some experience, some formal training, but most of them are relatively inexperienced. And Lyn tastes all of their food, and it’s - well, it’s better than a lot of the nicer places she’s been.

“Leenik’s an odd one,” Bacta says, after they watch a skinny kid break down a whole chicken without even breaking a sweat. “He’s very particular about who works for him. I’m not really sure where he finds people, but he finds good people for the job.”

“I thought I got the job because of my resume.”

“Anywhere else, you would’ve. This place, you got the job because Leenik likes you.”

“And that goes a long way here.”

“He didn’t like the last sous,” Bacta says.

Lyn snorts. “Ominous.”

“It was meant to be.” Bacta opens his mouth, like he’s going to say something, but then a door opens behind him, and he sighs. “That’ll be Leenik and Tryst.”

“Tryst is the sommelier?”

“Yes, and he’s… something.”

“Good something?”

Bacta grimaces. “He’s-”

“New sous chef!” says a new voice. Lyn turns to see a man with long blonde hair sweeping down the hall towards them. He has a sparkle in his eye, the kind that Lyn normally associates with people that she’s going to have to put into their place at some point. But he’s smiling like he owns the place, and Leenik doesn’t seem concerned about him at all. He sticks out a hand. “Trystan Valentine, sommelier extraordinaire.”

“Sommelier okay,” Bacta says from behind Trystan. Now that the sommelier is actually out, Lyn can see that a lot of the attitude is put on. He seems friendlier, more casual. “Tryst, meet the new sous chef.”

“Lyntel Luroon.” She sticks her hand out. “If you kiss my knuckles, I will break your nose.”

“He might be into that,” Bacta mutters as a warning.

Tryst drops his slick smile to shoot Bacta a dirty look. “You can’t say that to strangers, man.”

“You could’ve said no,” Leenik mutters.

Tryst rolls his eyes and shakes Lyn’s hand. “Call me Tryst. I’m the one who makes sure your wine pairings are good, and that you have enough wine in the restaurant. I can’t be as friendly as I want to, I have places to be, but I’m glad to meet you.”

“It’s good to see you, Lyn,” Leenik adds, looking around Tryst’s shoulder to meet her eyes. He doesn’t look like Chef Geelo, award-winner and restaurateur, who interviewed Lyn six times to be his sous. He looks like a regular guy, and as soon as Lyn smiles at him, his eyes slide back to Tryst. “You ready to go? I’ll walk you out.”

Tryst grins at Leenik, and Lyn nearly takes a step back in surprise. The way Tryst is smiling at Leenik is soft, almost sweet. It’s so different from the way he was looking at Lyn, so genuine and warm, that she’s taken aback. And Leenik smiles back, carefree, and follows Tryst out.

Lyn waits until they’re out of earshot to turn to Bacta. “I see what you mean about them.”

“They have private meetings once a week,” Bacta says, and widens his eyes significantly. “No other vendors have those meetings.”

“But are they-”

“Nobody knows.”

“Nobody?”

“They don’t exactly advertise it. As far as anyone they can tell, it’s strictly business.”

“Except for the private meetings.”

“Except for the private meetings,” Bacta agrees.

Lyn nods slowly, sorting through all of the details about this. “You think we can figure it out?”

Bacta grins at her. “Chef Luroon, I think if anyone could, it’s going to be us.”

[fadedintheflames]

Lyntel returns the gentle hand squeeze, their mind still trying to catch up. After a moment of deliberation, they scoot ever closer to Asra, pressing their head into good chest. He has always been a source for comfort, even now. It would definitely take them a long time to get used to all the facts that were now it in the open. But, somehow, they knew it would be easier with Asra, rather than without.

They could hear the tears in his voice, giving his hand another squeeze. "But you at least told me when I asked. You didn't lie. And to be honest, I'm grateful you held back for a while on telling me. I don't think I would have been able to handle it as well before... But we'll get through this together, just like always." There was a small smile in their voice.

"So... I'm a little curious. How did you first learn? About all of this? I must have told you at some point."

fadedintheflames

As they listen, their mind rushes around, trying to figure out where everything slotted in for who they were as a person. They were how old??? They had made a deal before? They had family? Without realizing it, tears had started to slowly roll down their cheeks, starting to drip in the space between them and Asra. Their grip on Asra’s hands grows a little tighter,  trying to keep themself grounded.

“Wh-” They sniff softly, not bothering to wipe away their tears. “How? I-” They shake their head weakly. “I don’t know where to start… Just- Just know that I don’t blame you… Asra- I care for you. You’ve been here for me since I can remember.” A weak laugh. “Literally…”

Tear filled eyes look up at Asra. “Thank you for telling me… For telling me everything. I- It’s a lot to take in, but- But with you here… I think I can handle it.”

“I know it’s a lot,” he assured, squeezing their hands to show them that he was there. “Take your time.” 

Before he could offer any further reassurances, though, Lyntel gave some of their own. Their words alleviated the ache that plagued the hole in his chest, and he blinked away the tears trying to gather in his eyes. This moment wasn’t supposed to be about him, and yet hearing that Lyntel wasn’t angry, that they didn’t blame him for their fate like he blamed himself…he couldn’t help the swell of emotions that overcame him. 

“Thank you. That’s—I can’t tell you how much that means to me. But that doesn’t change the fact that I shouldn’t have kept it from you for so long. You deserve to know the truth, and I promise I’ll be here the whole time to help you through it.” 

[waveridden]

FIC: Venus (1/5)

“What’s the final countdown?” Tryst snorts. “Geez, kid, it’s like it’s your first national tour or something.” (A Campaign rock band AU. Tryst/Leenik/Aava, with background Zero/Blue.)

Read on Ao3

#

SATURDAY

Dallas, TX 

Loading the tour bus is an art. Or a science, depending who you ask. But Tryst prefers to think of it as an art, the kind that can be practiced but never truly mastered. He likes his bus-loadings to be abstract. Keeps things fresh.

When he tells Lyn, she gives him a sour look, and not the joking kind of sour, either. “You are the reason we almost left Bacta’s cymbals in Nashville.”

“No,” Tryst says, because he’s not. “If it had happened, I would’ve been the reason. The way I see it, you and Leenik are the reason they didn’t get left behind. No harm, no foul.”

“Do we need a new rule about this? Do we need to forbid you from bus-loading?”

“You couldn’t stop me from bus-loading if you tried.”

Lyn shakes her head. “We will find a way if we have to.”

“During the final countdown, Lyn? Really?”

Pliff, loading an amp onto their truck, glances over at them. “What’s the final countdown?”

“What’s the final countdown?” Tryst snorts. “Geez, kid, it’s like it’s your first national tour or something.”

Pliff must be getting used to them, because he doesn’t rise to the bait. He just sets the amp down and stares. Tryst is, despite himself, kind of proud. “It’s the last five shows. As of right now, we only have five more shows, and then this whole shebang is over.”

“How is it already the final countdown?” Lyn murmurs. Tryst glances at her, and she shrugs. “It was a fast few weeks.”

“A fast few weeks,” Tryst repeats. “Like that’s a thing? It’s been a few weeks, we just happen to have been on a national tour. No such thing as an extra-fast few weeks.”

“It feels fast when the days blend together. The cities all start feeling the same.”

“So you’re saying it’s too monotonous?”

“That’s a big word,” Lyn says, so dryly that Tryst can’t even be offended. “Yes, I am saying that, Tryst.”

“You know what would spice it up a bit?”

Lyn sighs. “What?”

Tryst grins. “The Tryst Valentine school of loading tour buses. Where you just cram things in and hope they fit.”

“Tryst,” Bacta says, and it could be strained because he’s in the process of arranging equipment in the truck, but Tryst likes to think that it’s because of him. “If you’re going to stand around, go be helpful and stand around with either Neemo or Leenik.”

“Lyn’s standing around too,” Tryst complains, even though he can see her clipboard checklist. That’s a new rule that she put into place after the Nashville debacle.

“Neemo or Leenik,” Bacta repeats, and turns back to Pliff.

Tryst sighs. Neemo duty means Tamlin duty, which would be fun, but with Neemo there it’s way less fun. “Where’d Leenik go?”

“Front of the station,” Lyn says, and looks down at her clipboard in the unmistakable signal for “go away, Tryst.”

So Tryst wanders over to the front of the radio station building, where Leenik is talking to a small gaggle of teenagers. He looks totally comfortable, too, which is nearly revolutionary for Leenik. He looks like he’s carrying on a normal conversation - one that comes to an abrupt halt as the teens catch sight of Tryst approaching and go silent.

“Wait, I know this,” Leenik says without turning around. “It’s either Tamlin or Tryst, right? But you’d be saying aw if it were Tamlin, so-”

Tryst drops an elbow onto Leenik’s shoulder. “You’re getting good at this, you know.”

“At knowing when you’re there?” Leenik gives him a strange look. “How long have I known you?”

“Is that rhetorical?”

“Isn’t it like seven years?” one of the teens says, which, that’s weird. That’s too weird for Tryst.

Leenik doesn’t seem bothered, though, just snaps his fingers. “Seven years! That’s right, thanks. That’s long enough to develop Tryst radar.”

Tryst grins. “Aw, you like it when I’m around.”

“Seven years,” Leenik says, with an even stranger look. “All these nice people seem to understand that, why don’t you?”

“I’ve never understood anything in my life.” A couple of the teenagers laugh, and Tryst grins. “That’s why I didn’t go to college.”

“Oh, that’s why,” Leenik mutters.

“Hey, you didn’t either,” Tryst points out. “All the parents love that, I bet. The big popular rock band of drop-outs, and also a professor.”

Most of the teens nod in agreement. “You guys are too cool for school,” one girl says, and a couple of the others titter.

“Have you ever considered going back?” one boy asks. “I mean, not that you have to, but-”

“Nah,” Tryst says, and that’s supposed to be the end of it. Door closed, conversation over.

Except then Leenik says, “I’m thinking about it, actually,” and the door is blown wide open again.

“Really,” Tryst says, and he’s not sure if he means it as a question or as general disbelief, but whichever one Leenik hears is the wrong one, because he finally shrugs Tryst’s elbow off his shoulder. Tryst decides not to let it throw him off his game. “Have you talked to Lyn about it?”

“Not yet,” Leenik says, voice clipped. “It’s kind of a big decision, you know?”

“Tell me about it,” one of the teenagers mutters, and the others all make noises like they agree.

Tryst’s phone buzzes, and thankfully, Leenik’s does too, which definitely means it’s Bacta’s regular time-to-go text. He claps his hands together. “Folks, it’s been a pleasure, but we need to be on our way, so if you want selfies we’re gonna need an orderly line-”

The teenagers actually form an orderly line. Tryst is, despite himself, totally bemused.

He manages to wait until he and Leenik are in the parking lot in the back of the station, far out of teenage earshot, before he says, casually, “So, college, huh?”

Leenik’s shoulders hunch over. “We don’t have to talk about it.”

“We don’t have to not talk about it, either, that’s just-”

“No, Tryst, I’m saying I don’t want to talk about it.”

“But you just brought it up with a bunch of strangers.”

“And that’s all the talking about it I’m doing.” Leenik climbs on the bus, and Tryst narrowly avoids sighing at him. Leenik doesn’t always handle sighing well.

Tamlin, sitting cross-legged on the floor of the bus, looks up at them with all the seriousness that only a kid can muster. “Uncle Leenik, Uncle Tryst.”

“Nephew Tamlin,” Leenik says, equally serious.

Tamlin visibly brightens for a second before going back to his serious look. “Neemo and I were looking at a map of where we’re driving today, and we’re going to be really close to Oklahoma.”

“Oklahoma, okay,” Tryst says, and for some reason Leenik rolls his eyes. “What?”

“The musical?”

“What musical?”

“I���ve never been to Oklahoma before,” Tamlin says, and when Tryst looks back at him he’s gone from dead serious to hangdog, oh god. “Uncle Tryst, you’re driving, can we stop for lunch in Oklahoma?”

Tryst taps his chin. “That depends.”

“On what?”

“What does Uncle Bacta say?”

“Uncle Bacta said we could.” Tamlin’s lower lip juts out further and god damn that’s cute. “Please, Uncle Tryst?”

Tryst looks to the back of the bus. “Can we get confirmation on Bacta being fine with it?”

“He’s fine with it,” Lyn says, without looking up from whatever boring book she’s reading.

Tryst grins. “Oklahoma it is. Where do you want to go?”

“I would like to go to Tulsa,” Tamlin says seriously.

“Not Tulsa,” Neemo says quickly. “That’s not on the way.”

Tamlin frowns. “What’s on the way?”

“We can find out when we get there,” Tryst decides. “Everyone ready, get buckled up, we’re about to go on the road!”

Lyn clears her throat. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“No, I said to buckle up.”

“Bacta’s not on the bus.”

Tryst glances around. Bacta is, indeed, not on the tour bus. “Where is he?”

“Talking to the hosts of the radio show and thanking them for coming in on a weekend.”

“He can get an Uber, right?”

Tamlin huffs out a laugh. “An Uber to Oklahoma?”

“That’s kind of a good name for a book,” Neemo says thoughtfully. Leenik’s eyes go all wide and starry.

Tamlin frowns. “Are you sure about that?”

Lyn snorts into her book. Tryst grins. “Good one, buddy. But seriously, go buckle up, we’re heading out in five.”

  #

  The Mynock @themynockband

Tamlin update: we’ve agreed to stop in Oklahoma for lunch so he’s telling his lizards stories about Oklahoma over Skype

The Mynock @themynockband Replying to @themynockband

“...and there’s gonna be corn! We might not see it, but it’s gonna be there!”

The Mynock @themynockband Replying to @themynockband

(disclaimer: Lyn is the only band member who’s been to Oklahoma before, and that was for some nerd conference so it doesn’t count -LG)

Lyntel Luroon @lluroon Replying to @themynockband

Archaeology conference, Leenik, please.

The Mynock @themynockband Replying to @lluroon

sorry Lyn, Tryst made me say nerd conference and he doesn’t have Twitter so he can’t defend himself -LG

  #

  Lawton, OK

  “Oklahoma looks a lot like Texas,” Tamlin says. “What’s the difference?”

“Eat your chicken nuggets, buddy,” Bacta says patiently. “The difference is we’re in another state now.”

“But what makes it a different state?”

“The government said it was different.”

Tamlin frowns. “Why’s it different?”

“I think that’s a question for our college girl.” Tryst raises his eyebrows at Lyn, who glares at him. “Professor Luroon?”

“I studied archaeology in another country, I certainly don’t know Oklahoma history.”

“None of us are exactly good American students,” Bacta admits, casting a look around the McDonald’s where they’ve stopped for lunch. Tryst looks around too: Pliff, Jane, and Hessa are all clustered at a nearby table, and Neemo and Leenik are off talking about a book or something. “Your Uncle Lyn is the only one who went to college.”

“Pliff and Jane are going to college,” Tamlin says plaintively. “But they’re in the other bus so I can’t ask them about it. And Neemo went to college for writing, not history.”

“Maybe Leenik will study history,” Tryst says, and reaches for Bacta’s fries. Bacta, of course, swats his hand away, so Tryst has to settle for his own fries, like some kind of not-rock-star.

“Leenik?” Lyn repeats, looking confused. “Why would he study history?”

“When he starts undergrad,” Tryst says, and then, “Oh, shit.” Because Lyn looks thunderstruck, and Bacta looks like he did that time Tamlin dyed part of Tryst’s hair green, and Tamlin looks confused. And Leenik definitely, definitely didn’t want any of them to know about this. “I mean, hypothetically.”

“Hypothetically?” Tamlin frowns. “That’s a big word. And suspicious.”

Tryst shakes his head. “Okay, can we stop being surprised when I know words with more than three syllables? And can we forget that I said that last thing?”

“Is-” Bacta’s eyes flick over to Leenik, and he lowers his voice. “Is he applying for college?”

“I don’t know.” Bacta’s gaze sharpens, and Tryst lifts his hands. “No, really, he mentioned it once, on accident, literally this morning. I don’t think any of us are supposed to know.”

“I could ask him about it,” Lyn says, looking tentative. “Or wait for him to ask me?”

Bacta frowns. “Maybe that second one. He might not be happy knowing that we know about it.”

“It was an honest mistake,” Tryst hisses, because it was. “We can work this out later, it’s time for us to get back on the road.”

“What’s the point of college?” Tamlin asks, loud enough that a couple of other people in the McDonald’s look over at them. “Uncle Lyn’s the only one who went.”

“Your mom went to college too,” Bacta points out gently.

“And so did Aunt Aava,” Tryst says, and ignores the vicious glare that Bacta shoots at him. Like Tryst can’t talk about his own girlfriend. Please.

Tamlin frowns. “Is it a good thing?”

“It is if you want more education,” Lyn says firmly. “Uncle Tryst is right, it’s time for us to leave. And we’re not going to tell Uncle Leenik that we know about college, okay?”

“Okay.” Tamlin nods solemnly. “But we need to not tell Uncle Tryst any secrets.”

Tryst points at Tamlin. “That is completely correct. Don’t tell me anything you don’t want other people to find out at some point.”

Bacta rolls his eyes. “You are an excellent role model.”

“Hey, I don’t have to be, I’m not a godfather.” Tryst nudges Bacta, who rolls his eyes again. “Tama, you ready to get out of Oklahoma?”

Tamlin’s face falls. “But we didn’t even get to a part that was different than Texas!”

“All of Oklahoma is different from Texas, because it’s Oklahoma.”

“But it looks the same!”

“It’s different if you look in your heart.”

Tamlin pauses, probably looking in his heart to see if he can find the difference between Texas and Oklahoma, and then squints at Tryst. “Are you sure?”

“Mostly.” Tryst gets to his feet. “Come on, it’s three hours to our next stop, everyone stretch your legs.”

  #

  Lyn spends at least half of the next leg of their drive sitting next to Leenik, with their heads close together, talking way too quietly for Tryst to hear from the driver’s seat. He definitely doesn’t keep looking in the back of the bus to see if they’re still talking.

Listen, it’s just… Leenik gets weird about secrets sometimes, like that time he adopted a pit bull and didn’t tell anybody for a month. Tryst’s not sure who he talks to about these things, but Lyn seems like a good choice. Better than Tryst. Maybe.

  #

  Amarillo, TX

  The biggest and most important rule about restaurants is that Tamlin picks the seating order. Or, more specifically, he picks his seat and who sits near him, and everyone else has to figure out where to go around him.

“I wanna sit with Uncle Leenik,” he announces, as soon as they have their table for dinner. “And Uncle Bacta and Uncle Lyn.”

Which, when they’re all settled, somehow puts Tryst at the exact opposite corner from Leenik, sitting surrounded by the kids.

The thing is, technically, it’s Tryst’s fault that the kids are on tour with them. They weren’t supposed to have any kind of opening act, but Tryst had made a joking offer to them at some point. He hadn’t meant it, not really, but Jane had raised hell about it, and Bacta had thought it was a good idea, and so they’d adopted The Wildcard Kids. They earn their keep, too, because they’re the only touring stage crew that The Mynock has with them, and they’re also good performers. And they’re decent kids to boot.

“Hi, Hessa,” he says as he settles in next to her. “You’ve been to Texas before, right?”

“I’m from Alabama,” Hessa says. Tryst genuinely can’t tell if she means as “yes” or “no,” but she says it like it should be obvious.

“I’m from Arizona,” he counters, and Hessa tilts her head at him like she doesn’t understand. “You know, the southwest? The desert?”

“Is it an actual desert?” Jane asks, looking genuinely curious. She and Pliff are from the suburbs in some foresty state up north. Poor kids have probably never experienced 120-degree summers. Tryst pities them.

“Yeah, it’s an actual desert.” Tryst arches an eyebrow at her. “You know New Mexico is an actual desert too, right?”

“And Las Vegas,” Pliff points out, and all three of the kids sigh in unison.

Tryst has to bite back a smirk. “There are plenty of things to do in Vegas other than drinking.”

“We can’t even gamble,” Pliff half-whines. “You have to be twenty-one.”

“You can visit the casinos. Go to strip clubs.”

Hessa goes scarlet, and Pliff‘s not far behind her. Jane taps her fingers on the restaurant menu, looking pensive. “Are there a lot of those?”

“In Las Vegas?” Tryst snorts. “Yeah, there are a few.”

“Huh,” Jane says thoughtfully. Tryst always knew she was the smartest.

Pliff buries his face in his hands. “Jane, no- ”

“Do we really want to?” Hessa says, looking mortified. “Can’t we find a nice museum, or a magic show, or-”

“Uncle Tryst broke the kids,” Tamlin says loudly from the opposite corner. All three uncles - and Neemo, seated awkwardly at the head of the table - turn to look at Tryst.

“I did nothing wrong,” Tryst says. Nobody looks like they believe him. Leenik actually looks away from him, which, yikes. “I can fix them?”

“Are there museums in Las Vegas?” Hessa whispers, like she’s worried Tryst is going to tell her that there’s a strip club museum or something. Actually-

“I think there’s a strip club museum or something,” Tryst says, and Hessa moans in despair. “Or maybe it’s about the mafia. Would that be cool?”

“No,” Hessa says, from where her face is buried in her arms on the table. “No mafia.”

Tryst shrugs. “Jane and I can go on a museum tour together, right?”

“Absolutely not,” Jane says cheerfully. “Neither of us would have fun, and you’ve got press stuff to do anyways.”

“You wound me,” Tryst says, even though she’s absolutely right. “But we can find time, right, Janey? Just you, me, and the local mafia.”

Hessa buries her face further in her arms, and Pliff glares at Tryst between his fingers. Tryst grins at them and opens his menu.

  #

  The Mynock @themynockband

Tamlin update: fell asleep during round three of the billboard game. He held out longer than we expected. He’s a real trooper. pic.twitter.com/4h63nr74

becca loves mynock! @themynockbecca Replying to @themynockband

awww precious! who was he playing against? did he win? :o

The Mynock @themynockband Replying to @themynockbecca

I won the first round, he won the second. Think I win by default? -B

becca loves mynock! @themynockbecca Replying to @themynockband

!!!!!!!!!!!!!! you replied!! maybe he can rematch you when he wakes up? <3

The Mynock @themynockband Replying to @themynockbecca

We play most nights. This is the first time I’ve won in… an embarrassingly long time. -B

becca loves mynock! @themynockbecca Replying to @themynockband

then congrats on your win! drive safe you guys!! <3

~*casey*~ @applepeaches Replying to @themynockband @themynockbecca

BECCA OH MY GOD

becca loves mynock! @themynockbecca Replying to @themynockband @applepeaches

CASEY!!!!!! I KNOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!

bacta’s new bff @themynockbecca

is this real life

  #

  Albuquerque, NM

  Tryst is a patient person.

Ha. Okay, no. Tryst is a person who understands that there’s a time and a place for some conversations, especially conversations about other people. So he waits until they’re checked in at the hotel, and the buses are parked, and he and Lyn are safely in their shared hotel rooms before he says, “You talked to Leenik.”

Lyn sighs one of her patented I’m-disappointed-in-you,-Trystan sighs. “I can’t tell you what we talked about.”

“I won’t ask you to,” Tryst lies. “Or, I mean, now that you’ve said you won’t tell me-”

Lyn rolls her eyes. “It’s your turn for the bed near the window.”

“Do we have a good view?” Tryst goes to the window and opens the curtains. “Oh, there’s a pool here, you think we’ll have time to go swimming?”

“We are going to be in San Diego in less than a week.”

“Yeah, for like two hours in the morning. Is that enough time for swimming?”

“Do you even like swimming?”

Tryst shrugs. “Tamlin does, Bacta and Leenik don’t. I’m kind of the swimming uncle by default.”

He doesn’t have to turn to see Lyn smiling, the way she does when she’s somehow convinced herself that Tryst is a decent caretaker for a child. “Maybe we can take him swimming tomorrow.”

“Do we have Tamlin in the morning?”

“We do.”

Tryst decides that he should make more of an effort to keep up with the Tamlin schedule next tour. “We can ask him what he wants to do.”

He glances over his shoulder in time to see Lyn nod, and then pause, eyes going soft. “Leenik says he is worried about college.”

“Isn’t everyone worried about college?”

“He’s worried to go back after so many years out of school.”

“Leenik’s one of the smartest people I know.”

Lyn shrugs. “Some smart people don’t do well in college. And some people can’t adjust from a national tour to sitting in a classroom.”

“He’ll figure it out,” Tryst says, because he will. “You wanna see what’s good on hotel TV?”

“At nine o’clock on a Saturday?”

“HBO?”

Lyn shakes her head. “Try and find something if you want,” she says, and wanders towards the bathroom. “I’m going to sleep.”

“Killjoy,” Tryst calls after her, as if he’s going to do anything other than change into his sleep kimono and watch HGTV until he passes out. She laughs from the bathroom, like she knows he’s lying. Which she definitely does, but it’s the principle of the thing.

  #

  Lyntel Luroon @lluroon

The man, the myth, the legend, the exhausted after driving half our trip today. pic.twitter.com/jk0Ir7p

Leenik Geelo @themynockleenik Replying to @lluroon

lazy

Lyntel Luroon @lluroon Replying to @themynockleenik

Better hope he doesn’t find out you said that.

  #

  SUNDAY

  Tamlin, seated at the hotel breakfast bar, kicks his feet and announces, “I wanna go in a hot air balloon.”

Tryst looks at Lyn. Lyn looks back at him sidelong and then turns to Tamlin. “Are you sure?”

“Mmhm.” He kicks his feet a little harder, thudding against the wall behind the bar. “I borrowed Uncle Bacta’s tablet and looked up things to do in New Mexico, and it looks like there are a lot of hot air balloons here. So I wanna do that.”

“Bud, I’m not sure if you can book a last-minute hot air balloon ride,” Tryst says, as gently as he can. “That doesn’t mean we’re not gonna try, but if you want to come up with a back-up plan, now would be the time.”

“There’s a pool at the hotel,” Lyn offers brightly. “That could be worth considering.”

Tamlin nods slowly and takes a thoughtful bite of cereal. “Can we still try the hot air balloons?”

“We can still try the hot air balloons.” Tryst glances at Lyn and lowers his voice. “Will Bacta let us take his kid in a hot air balloon?”

“Uncle Bacta said it’s okay as long as it’s safe,” Tamlin chirps.

Lyn makes a face and mouths “Is it safe?” Tryst shrugs, and she rolls her eyes before looking back at Tamlin. “We’ll do what we can.”

Tamlin beams. “Thanks, Uncle Lyn!”

Tryst clears his throat, and Tamlin looks at him guiltily. “And thank you too, Uncle Tryst!”

“No problem,” Tryst says. “And we can hold you over the edge of the basket as long as you don’t tell Bacta, okay?”

“Yeah!” Tamlin cheers.

“Absolutely not,” Lyn says sharply. Tamlin pouts at her, but she shakes her head. “No, Tamlin, we need to keep you safe.”

“Uncle Tryst wouldn’t drop me,” Tamlin says.

“Not on purpose,” Tryst agrees. Lyn whacks him on the arm. “What? I wouldn’t.”

“I think we’re leaving you on the ground,” Lyn says dryly. “It would be better for my blood pressure, and Bacta’s.”

“Bacta doesn’t have to know!”

“No holding Tamlin over the edge of the basket.”

“Aw,” Tamlin says, but he doesn’t look as disappointed as he sounds.

“Eat your cereal, buddy,” Tryst sighs, and Tamlin does. “Lyn?”

“I’ll call around,” Lyn says, getting out of her seat. “But only if Tamlin finishes breakfast.”

Tamlin nods seriously. “I will, Uncle Lyn.”

“Good.” Lyn pats Tamlin’s shoulder and sweeps her hand through Tryst’s hair, ignoring the way he swats at her, and then leaves to probably pull strings and get them in a hot air balloon.

Tamlin peeks at Tryst. “Will you hold me over the edge?”

“Only if the balloon pilot says I can,” Tryst admits. “Gotta keep you safe, kiddo.”

“I thought you said nothing safe was ever fun.”

“That’s only when you’re a grown-up. Plenty of safe things are fun when you’re a kid. Haven’t you ever been in bumper cars?”

Tamlin makes a face. “Bad example.”

“Good example!” Tryst protests, even though Tamlin is probably, absolutely right. He normally is.

  #

  The Mynock @themynockband

Tamlin update: flying high! pic.twitter.com/ch4dmgn5

Bacta @themynockbacta Replying to @themynockband

Did you post this specifically to give me an aneurysm?

Leenik Geelo @themynockleenik Replying to @themynockbacta @themynockband

he’s not kidding he looks like his eyes are about to pop out

The Mynock @themynockband Replying to @themynockleenik @themynockbacta

He’s fine, Tryst is keeping a careful eye on him. -LL

Bacta @themynockbacta Replying to @themynockband @themynockleenik

Is that supposed to make me feel better

  #

  Tryst doesn’t know who in this kid’s life taught him that brunch is better than breakfast, especially when he can’t even have mimosas, but Tamlin insists on going somewhere with a brunch buffet.

“You ate breakfast,” Tryst says exasperatedly. “Doesn’t brunch mean you’re doubling up?”

“It means I get one and a half breakfasts and half a lunch,” Tamlin says, and seriously, who taught him these things? It had to be Leenik. Maybe Neemo. “And that’s two meals total, which is the right number.”

“He’s got you there,” Lyn mutters.

And so they trek from their hotel room to a brunch buffet, where Tamlin loads up with bacon and French toast, and Tryst stares longingly at the mimosas before Lyn whispers “we’re performing tonight” and drags him away. People in the restaurant definitely recognize them, and Tryst catches them staring, but as always, nobody comes over because Tamlin is there. It’s one of their only boundaries with fans, and luckily it’s one that normally gets followed.

Tryst is so distracted looking around that it takes him a minute to realize Tamlin poking at his scrambled eggs with his fork. “They’re gonna taste the same with holes as they do without holes, kiddo.”

“I know,” Tamlin says quietly, and that sets off every alarm bell in Tryst’s head.

“Tamlin,” he says, carefully, “is there something you want to talk about?”

Tamlin’s face scrunches up in a way that definitely means yes, and also definitely means he doesn’t know how to say it. Tryst waits it out, ignoring Lyn’s nervous glances between them, until Tamlin sets his jaw and looks up. “Why does Uncle Leenik want to go to college?”

“I don’t know,” Tryst answers. Tamlin glares. “No, bud, I really don’t. Uncle Leenik thinks about a lot of things without telling people about them, and this is one of those things. You have to talk to him about it if you want answers.”

“Decisions about the future can be a very personal thing,” Lyn adds. “He’s having trouble making that decision, and it’s important that we respect that and let him come to terms with it at his own pace.”

“I guess.” Tamlin’s face scrunches up in that super adorable way it does when he’s not quite satisfied with what they’re telling him, and he stabs at his eggs again. “What’s college like?”

Tryst turns to Lyn. “Yeah, professor, what’s college like?”

“Well, I went to university in both France and England, so it wouldn’t be quite the same as what Leenik would do if he goes to college here, but college is like high school.”

Tamlin tilts his head. “Is high school anything like pre-school?”

“Not quite. It’s a little closer to elementary school.”

“Am I gonna start that soon?”

Lyn glances at Tryst. “Yes?”

“Bacta’s got you all registered for school,” Tryst confirms. He doesn’t understand half of it, but Bacta’s constantly talking about teachers and the PTA and what the hell ever else goes into a good kindergarten experience. “You’re gonna be starting in the fall.”

“Why?”

“Because Bacta wants you to have a good education, so you can grow up to be smarter than all of us.”

“Even Uncle Lyn?”

“I think nothing would make me happier than you being smarter than Uncle Lyn,” Tryst says seriously. Lyn rolls her eyes.

Tamlin nods, and then pokes his eggs with his fork. And again. And then so hard that his mass of eggs splits into two smaller masses of eggs.

Tryst sighs. “Tama, you’re gonna need to either eat the eggs or tell me what’s wrong.”

Tamlin chops off a chunk of scrambled egg, eats it, and then bursts out, “Did Mom like college?”

Tryst nearly drops his fork. Lyn actually does drop her fork. Tamlin stares up at Tryst, eyes wide, lower lip wobbling. “Uncle Tryst?”

“Yeah,” Tryst manages after a minute. “Yeah, bud, your mom had a great time in college.” He’d never gone to college - fuck that, he never finished high school - but he’d visited Grizelle on campus more times than he could count. Her door room was like his second home. She was a good student, the kind who actually did projects before the last minute and enjoyed writing papers.

“So college is good?”

“College is good if you want to go. Your mom wanted to go, and that was great. Bacta and Leenik and I, we didn’t want to go at the time, and that was great for us, too.”

“Why did mom want to go if you didn’t?”

“Your mom-” Tryst takes a deep breath. He can feel Lyn’s eyes on him. They don’t talk about Grizelle that often. This may be the most Lyn’s ever heard about her. “Grizelle was a lot smarter than I am, and she also grew up in a different family. So college was important to her, but it wasn’t to me.”

“And that’s okay?”

“That’s okay,” Lyn says softly.

Tamlin nods and takes a bite of his eggs, chewing them solemnly. Tryst takes the chance to scarf down some bacon, because if they’re going to keep up with this emotional shit, he’s going to need the energy.

“Okay,” Tamlin says at last, and Tryst breathes a sigh of relief. Lyn elbows him. Tamlin ignores the whole thing. “So if Uncle Leenik wants to go that’s good?”

“That’s right.”

“And if you don’t want to go, that’s still good?”

“You’re getting the hang of it.”

“And college is like elementary school?”

“I mean, they’re both school.”

Tamlin nods, looking satisfied. “Then I don’t want to go to elementary school.”

“Uh,” Tryst says. “That’s not how it works.”

“Why not?”

“Well, for one thing, I think it’s against the law if you don’t go to school.”

“There’s homeschooling,” Lyn starts, but she quails under the glare Tryst shoots her. Bacta has decided, off and on about a dozen times, that he’s going to homeschool Tamlin. The last thing they need is Tamlin getting wind of that idea. “But school is good! You can meet other children your age.”

“Uncle Tryst already acts like he’s five,” Tamlin says innocently.

Lyn glances at Tryst. “Burn ball?”

“Burn ball,” Tryst agrees. “That was a good one. We’ll get it to you when we’re back on the bus tomorrow. But you’re still going to school in the fall.”

Tamlin sighs. “Them’s the breaks,” he mutters, and goes back to his eggs.

“Who says that?” Tryst demands. “Is that Neemo? Do we need to talk to Neemo about teaching you phrases that sound like they’re from a detective story again?”

“Neemo is teaching me how to sound cultured and dramatic,” Tamlin says, delicately, like Neemo told him to use that explanation.

“Christ,” Tryst mutters, and takes a sullen bite of hash browns. They really do need to get Tamlin some friends his own age. Maybe kindergarten will be good for him after all.

  #

  The Mynock @themynockband

Tamlin update: shopping trip in Albuquerque! pic.twitter.com/l1l5tur4

The Mynock @themynockband Replying to @themynockband

Tryst has insisted that I upload his “blues brothers” photo. I hope you all understand this reference. -LL pic.twitter.com/mh3vet18

Bacta @themynockbacta Replying to @themynockband

You do not have my permission to buy my son a fedora and suit jacket.

The Mynock @themynockband Replying to @themynockbacta

Pleeeeeeease?

The Mynock @themynockband Replying to @themynockbacta

Oh no I forgot to put my name! Hi uncle Bacta -Tamlin

Bacta @themynockbacta Replying to @themynockband

Hi, buddy. No fedora, yes suit jacket?

The Mynock @themynockband Replying to @themynockbacta

Thank you!!!!!! :) -Tamlin

The Mynock @themynockband

Celebrating his new sport coat (with thanks to @themynockbacta) pic.twitter.com/m3hr9hkf

Leenik Geelo @themynockleenik Replying to @themynockband

oh my god he’s adorable

The Mynock @themynockband Replying to @themynockleenik

He knows it, too. -LL

  #

  Neemo whisks Tamlin away as soon as they get to the stadium, and Tamlin bounces off with him, chattering about sport coats and Tryst’s bad summary of The Blues Brothers. Tryst waits until they’re out of earshot before turning to Lyn. “You did some good uncle-ing at brunch, you know.”

Lyn snorts. “I think you handled that much better than I did.”

“Well, yeah, I’ve been his uncle longer. I have more practice.”

“Maybe I should try and have more serious conversations with him.”

“To what end?”

“You know, for bonding.”

“You can’t force bonding, Lyn. Forced bonding means losing uncle status. Do you want to lose uncle status?”

Lyn crosses her arms. “Absolutely not.”

“That’s what I thought,” Tryst says smugly. Lyn loves Tamlin an impressive amount, and Tryst knows that her uncle status was hard-earned. He’s pretty sure that she’d cried the first time he’d called her Uncle Lyn. And by pretty sure, he means that he was actually crying too hard to see if Lyn was.

“But still.” Lyn pauses, and then sighs. “I don’t… know much about Grizelle, but you all clearly loved her, and the way you talk about-”

Tryst holds up a hand. “I’m gonna stop you right there.”

“Did I break the ‘no sincere emotions before concerts’ rule?”

“Left it shattered on the floor.”

“Are there exceptions for the final countdown?”

Tryst pauses. “I think if there are, all of us need to be here to discuss it. The last show’s an exception for sure, though. We can have sincere emotions that whole day.”

“I’m telling you, it would be easier if we wrote down-”

“Wrote down the tour rules?” Tryst scoffs. “Next you’re going to tell me we should write down our itinerary for every city instead of just memorizing them.”

Lyn casts him a strange look. “We have written copies of the itineraries.”

“And maybe you need those, but I don’t.”

“That’s just because you drive half the time.”

“And the tour’s turning out just fine.” Tryst flashes a smile at her, and she grins back at him. If she tries to push this whole sincere-emotions thing, he’s going to fight back, because this conversation is awesome without sincere emotions. “Let’s go find Bacta and Leenik.”

“Or the kids.”

Tryst waves her off. “The kids are just fine without us.”

“And Bacta and Leenik aren’t?”

“You never know what kind of shenanigans they’ll get up to without us.”

Lyn rolls her eyes, but she’s still smiling. “I suppose we should go rescue them.”

“We should definitely go rescue them,” Tryst agrees. “Which way is the stage?”

“You can see the stage from here.”

“You’d better navigate for me.”

“Tryst-”

“Navigate us, Lyn,” he says, and she sighs, and she does.

  #

  Neimoidian Sparks @neemosparks

My assistant today is extra dapper. pic.twitter.com/Aur81lnQ

Ivy Keller @ivynopoison Replying to @neemosparks

all these pictures of dapper tama are killing me! have a good show!! <3

Jude Vacarro @themyn0ckband Replying to @neemosparks

more bts pics please!!!!

Sienna Q @THEsienna Replying to @neemosparks

@theathereal look!!!

it’s thea!! @theathereal Replying to @THEsienna @neemosparks

OHHHH MYYYYY GODDDDDDDDDD

  #

  The Mynock @themynockband

Albuquerque, you were amazing. pic.twitter.com/7aim4gns

The Mynock @themynockband Replying to @themynockband

As always thank you @neemosparks for our show clip of the night -LG

  #

  Mynock Tour Clips @mynockclips

Tonight’s clip from Albuquerque: Tryst’s solo in HEROIC http://twitter.com/themynockband/status/12874320893

hamish @haaaaaaymish Replying to @mynockclips

uh wasnt this solo the clip from pittsburgh

Annaleigh @breakfastqueen Replying to @haaaaaaymish @mynockclips

Are you actually complaining about *more* videos of this solo?

  #

  MONDAY

  Tamlin falls asleep in Tryst’s lap just before they start loading the bus, which gives Tryst basically the best excuse ever to not be a part of loading the bus.

“So much for your art form,” Lyn remarks.

Tryst clutches Tamlin a little closer to his chest, ignoring the way she smirks at him for it. “I’m an uncle first, artist second.”

Lyn’s eyebrows shoot up. “Are you really?”

“Is that a surprise?”

“You always seemed like you put the band first.”

“I put my family first,” Tryst says. It’s midnight, and he’s tired, and he’s still off-balance from brunch, and that’s the only reason he’s being honest. “It’s just that you guys are all my family, so the band and my family are the same thing. I like you more than the music, though.”

Lyn smiles at him, looking pleased. “You’re a good uncle, Tryst.”

“Never heard that before,” Tryst says. Tamlin shifts in his arms, and Tryst settles his chin on top of Tamlin’s head. “You guys and the kids, you go load up the buses. We’ll be here.”

Lyn reaches over and ruffles his hair, and he’s too tired to even grouse at her for it. “Good show tonight, roommate.”

“Thanks, roomie.” Tryst catches her hand and presses a kiss to her knuckles, just to watch her roll her eyes. “You too.”

“It’s the final countdown,” Lyn murmurs, and leaves Tryst and Tamlin.

“End of the road, bud,” Tryst murmurs. Tamlin doesn’t even stir. Tryst smiles and starts humming - nothing in particular, just noises, but he can feel Tamlin’s heartbeat, and that’s all the music he needs.

  #

  Leenik Geelo @themynockleenik

guerilla filming: uncle Tryst and nephew Tamlin pic.twitter.com/f82lsjp4

Leenik Geelo @themynockleenik Replying to @themynockleenik

thanks for a good night, Albuquerque. only four shows to go.

#

Chapter 2

[waveridden]

FIC: Hot Stuff

Campaign/Sex Criminals AU, 1.5k. NSFW (nothing explicit, lots of talk of sex and masturbation). [Ao3 link]

#

Okay. Tryst has a magic dick.

And the problem is, when you say things like that as a pick-up line, it sounds… well, it sounds like a pick-up line, and a pretty bad one at that. It doesn’t sound like a sincere sentiment. But no, Tryst has an actual magic dick, and what’s more, he hasn’t met anyone else with a magic dick. So he’s stuck with the best true pick-up line in the galaxy and nobody who will believe it.

Tryst is in hell, basically. But at least he’s in hell with a magic dick.

#

The thing is, it’s hard to talk about sex when your older sisters are determined to view you as a kid forever and your parents pretend not to hear you when you ask questions. This means that young Tryst Valentine learned everything he knows about sex from completely reliable sources, like loud tourists in cantinas and questionably-sourced holos that turn up in Watto’s market. With information sources like that, it’s only natural that some things fall through the cracks, right?

So Tryst is home completely alone for the first time in weeks, with one of those iffy holos, and for the first time in his young life, he’s in the fresher doing what horny teenagers do when they’re home alone. It takes maybe fifteen seconds from start to finish, and he feels good, and then the world freezes. Completely freezes.

“Whoa,” he whispers, because it’s cool as hell. People say that time stops during sex, but he always thought it was some kind of poetic garbage. But the world is perfectly still, and all the noise from outside has stopped. Maybe orgasms are actually magic. No wonder everyone talks about sex all the time. The world is quiet, and there are lights swirling around him, and there’s light from between his legs, and–

Tryst looks down. His dick is definitely glowing.

“Maybe that’s where they got the ideas for lightsabers from,” he says. His voice is echoing in the flat air, and it’s the second most uncomfortable thing about this whole situation. After, well, his dick glowing, and he’s not really sure what to do about that.

He puts his pants back on, and walks around the empty house for a while, and moves a couple of jars around, and finds out that apparently datapads don’t work post-orgasm, which is maybe the worst news a teenage boy could get. And the afterglow wears off eventually, and the clocks start working again, and Tryst figures, okay, that’s what sex is like. Good to know. Mystery solved, et cetera.

But he keeps finding holovids of porn. Time never freezes in the holovids. That’s his first clue that maybe this isn’t what sex is like.

#

“Heyyyy, Vous-Vous.” Tryst plops down next to her on the couch. “Got a question.”

Rendezvous barely glances at him. “No, I won’t take you bounty hunting with me, you’re only a kid.”

“It’s a sex question,” he blurts out before he can second guess himself.

She turns to stare at him, slowly, in a way that probably means he’s about to die. “Don’t we have parents that you can talk to about this?”

“Did you want to talk about this with Mom and Dad when you were my age?”

“Fine. You get one question. One single question.”

Tryst pauses, sorting through all the important things. He can guess some of it himself, like how long it takes till time unfreezes, and some of it doesn’t matter, like where the lights come from. Maybe there’s just one question worth asking. “Does your… does, uh-”

“Trystan.”

“Does your dick glow,” Tryst says, a little louder than he meant.

Rendezvous stares at him for another couple sentence before pinching the bridge of her nose. “Is this a lightsaber joke? Is that what you’re doing?”

“It’s a legitimate question,” Tryst protests.

“I really don’t think it is.”

“So that means your answer is no?”

“No, my dick doesn’t glow during sex.” Rendezvous shakes her head. “Next time you have a question about how dicks work, ask Dad. Kriff, Tryst.”

“Come on, Vous-Vous,” Tryst starts, but she’s already getting off the couch. He sighs.

Okay. Maybe the dick-glowing is a problem.

#

Except… it’s not a bad problem to have. Maybe a little awkward in one-night stands, but he’d hazard a guess that those would be awkward anyways. It’s like he has this built-in way to get a couple of extra hours of sleep. Get some extra light in a dark room, if he needs it. It’s not foolproof or anything, but it’s something.

And it’s convenient for stealing, which is the kind of thing Tryst wouldn’t admit even if anyone else knew that he could magically stop time. Never anything big, of course, a few credits here and there, some extra food if they really need it. Enough to screw over Watto, occasionally, but only when he’s feeling extra spiteful.

The whole “sex criminal” thing on the business cards isn’t on purpose, but he laughs till he kriffing cries when he finds out that’s what they say. It’s the three things he does the most, all rolled up into one: sex, crime, and crime via sex.

#

They’re flying away from Tattooine, from everything Tryst has ever really known, when Grizelle looks at him and says “Is there anything special about you?”

“Anything special about me?” Tryst snorts. “I’m Tryst Valentine.”

“And I’m Leenik Geelo,” says Leenik, “but I don’t think that’s what she meant.”

“Special abilities,” Grizelle says, a touch impatiently. “Things you can do.”

“Fly ships,” Tryst offers. “And I’m a pretty good haggler.”

Bacta sighs. “Anything else?”

Tryst thinks about it. This is as good a way as any to test the waters. “My dick glows when I have sex.”

Leenik makes a retching noise. Bacta sighs again, with a lot more weight to it this time. Grizelle is radiating disappointment. Tryst decides that probably means none of them know what he’s talking about. “Listen, if you don’t believe I’m that good, I can’t help you guys-”

“Moving on,” Grizelle sighs, and thankfully, they move on.

#

Between Mandalore and Phindar, after a bit of the shell-shock wears off, Neemo starts asking questions. Mostly to Lyn, because she probably has the best answers, but he asks the rest of them questions all the time, too.

“How can you fly for so long?” he asks Tryst at one point. They’ve fallen out of hyperspace long enough that Tryst has to navigate some nasty space debris, and has been navigating it for hours on end.

“Because I’m just that good,” Tryst scoffs. He definitely sneaks off for bathroom breaks and rubs one out and takes a nap, but that’s for him to know and nobody else to make fun of. “Good pilots don’t need breaks.”

“Wow,” Neemo murmurs. “What else can you do?”

Leenik says, perfectly casual, “Tryst has a glowing penis.”

“Tryst has a what, ” Lyn says flatly.

Tryst wriggles around in the captain’s chair to glance at Leenik. “I didn’t think you’d remember that!”

“I listen when you talk,” Leenik says. “And I remember when people say crazy things. That’s a pretty crazy thing.”

Neemo takes an uncomfortably scrutinizing look at Tryst’s crotch. “Does it glow all the time?”

“Obviously not, only when I have sex.”

“Trystan,” Lyn says, obviously disappointed, “don’t lie to Neemo.”

“I’m not lying to Neemo!”

“Really?”

“I don’t know why you’re coming after me for this, Leenik is the one who brought it up.”

“But you’re not denying it,” Lyn says exasperatedly.

Tryst shrugs and takes the ship around one particularly large piece of debris. “Why deny the most unique thing about me?”

“Things can’t be more or less unique than other things,” says Leenik.

“You’re missing the point,” says Lyn.

“So does it actually glow, or are you making fun of me?” says Neemo.

Tryst groans. “Alright, new rule, I’m the only one allowed to talk about my dick.”

“Normally you’re the only one who wants to,” Lyn mutters.

“Then I guess today isn’t normal, Lyntel,” Tryst says, and the cockpit falls into merciful quiet for another minute, and then-

“What color does it glow?” Neemo asks, and Tryst says “just white” before he can help himself, and then Lyn is yelling again. Which is, to be fair, probably a reasonable reaction to Tryst breaking his own rule.

#

And then, in a hotel room on Phindar, overlooking BHIKKE-

“Wow,” Tryst says, staring up at the ceiling.

“You weren’t so bad yourself,” Aava agrees, crossing her legs. “You’re glowing, by the way.”

Tryst looks at his dick, and then at a definitely not-frozen Aava, and says, “You’ve got to be kriffing kidding me.”