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spoctertech · 10 months

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Winter Air Stings-A Cyphmen Fic

It really sucks when you’re invited to a Christmas party, and the guy who rejected you last year is also there, and none of your friends thought to tell you for some bizarre reason.

Omen’s so glad that that’s not him though, except it is, and he has no idea how he’s going to deal with it.

CHAPTER 1 - The Party

In hindsight, maybe it wasn't a good Idea.

Here he was, standing just outside of Brimstone’s ridiculous house while snow fell at an alarming rate around him. It was 5 PM and the sun was no longer visible.

This is not the way Omen wanted to be spending the first Friday of his Christmas vacation, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it now. He was here and he had to follow through with his actions.

It didn’t help that an all-too-obvious slick black car was mocking him in his peripheral, snow speckling its surface and—

Nope. Omen wasn’t going to think about it.

His eyes careened upwards, taking in the absolutely absurd state of Brimstone’s home. First, there were wreaths everywhere. How the hell had he managed to get… there had to be at least 20 because there were so many windows, and who honestly did her exterior decorating?

Omen huffed. This was absurd.

The house’s cool cream facade was of little contrast to the surrounding snow, which had maintained a healthy presence here in the country where Brimstone had decided to build this little side project of his. If Omen hadn’t been told about its existence, he would’ve thought his only place of residence was that equally ludicrous high rise in the heart of the city he lounged in on his days off (which was to say, almost never).

The mere fact that Sage made him drive an hour and a half in this agonizing December chill, just to arrive at this ridiculous house with its ridiculous decorations and lighting and atmosphere and that stupid black car still in his periphery—

Nope, now wasn’t the time to think about that. He could focus on how stupid Brimstone’s house was instead of that stupid black car.

Like really, how many evergreens did somebody need in front of their house? They didn’t even hide the bottom floor windows, which were elevated at a ridiculous height above the ground.

Omen was honestly beginning to think that everything about this house was a superfluous little extra detail Brimstone decided to add because why not?

It didn’t help that each tree was covered in lights. Omen was pretty sure he passed at least 10 of these little trees, each decked out with its own lighting and ornamentation and he was still outside and it was still snowing and this was just ridiculous.

He didn’t even want to be here, among all of this extravagance, but he didn’t exactly have a choice.

Sage somehow got herself wrapped up in Brimstone’s shenanigans like usual and asked him ever so kindly if he could show up so she wasn’t alone when everyone else got drunk, especially since he’d been so willing to come for two years prior!

It’s not like he couldn’t tell Viper why he didn’t want to come. She was there last year and knew exactly what happened. It wasn’t even a big deal anyway, it happens to everyone at least once in their life. She'd even told Omen that he wouldn’t be here, so he could actually come and relax with the people he actually liked instead of worrying about some stupid, beautiful blockheaded buffoon—

But he wasn’t going to think about that, or the black car parked out front, because he’s arrived at Brimstone’s door, knocking to be let inside.

The door swung open way too easily for his tastes, and he jumped at the light laughter echoing from inside. Soft music was coming from somewhere in the house as one of Brimstone’s servants (he has servants?) gestured him inside.

The foyer was just as, if not even more, extravagant as the outside. It extended upwards at least two stories, with an ornate, pure crystal chandelier acting as its centerpiece. There were garlands and lights everywhere and everything looked so obnoxiously Christmas that Omen was surprised it was a private abode and not some public design exhibit. It looked like a Christmas-themed set that beautiful famous people would use for magazine photoshoots.

But, he supposed, that was Brimstone; he was incredibly famous for being one of the wealthiest individuals in America so wealthy that this was supposed to be one of three country estates he owned (which Omen had doubted, doubts he would now begin to reconsider). So of course it was going to be decorated to the nines, because if there was any chance of a photoshoot, Brimstone would make sure he would look absolutely gorgeous in any setting.

Even so, this was probably the most ornate setting he’d been in for Brimstone’s parties. He’d only been to two of them previously, which had been out of his luxurious high rise in the heart of the Californian harbor; he’d thought he’d seen the peak of his lavish lifestyle then, but this place made his small apartment look like a dusty fridge.

As the… woman, maid, servant, whatever she was, took his coat to some coat closet or something, he didn’t know (whatever it was rich people had), he took a moment to observe the giant tree situated between the two spiral staircases that acted as the main focus of the entire foyer.

His dress shoes clicked against the hardwood floor as he drank in the sight of the tree, a brilliant dark green and covered with ornaments of all shapes and sizes. Red, gold, and white all accented the verdant tree in a way that told Omen it had to be professionally done. There was no way interior decorating this nice could be made by a single person when said single person lived an hour and a half away in one of the busiest ports in America.

He absently wondered when Brimstone a) even had time to build this place and b) when he had time to decorate it as the meek-looking woman who had opened the door gestured for him to follow her. He followed her down one of the many hallways connecting to the main foyer, where the sounds of laughter and music and “holiday joy” got louder with each step.

Whoever decorated, he definitely had to give them kudos, because they captured the Christmas spirit so well that Omen felt like regurgitating a tricolor rainbow of red, white, and green.

Omen couldn’t ignore the thoughts on his mind anymore as they slowly approached wherever he was being led. The black car outside burst at the front of his thoughts as they rounded a corner and came face to face with a set of double doors. Omen silently swore to himself, that if this house had a God-damned ballroom of all things—

“Sir Brimstone,” the woman spoke loudly and clearly, startling Omen out of his thoughts, “someone has arrived.”

Brimstone’s piercing crimson gaze shifted to Omen, a smile on his features as he beckoned him closer. The lady Omen had followed bowed and swiftly disappeared, leaving Omen to his own devices for this… party.

He didn’t remember it being this stiff. He also didn’t remember it being this empty; looking around, the only other person with him was Brimstone.

“I see you’ve finally arrived, Omen,” he chuckled, his smile playing innocently on his face, but Omen could see that his eyes were not dancing to the same tune. “Everyone else has already arrived, so I thought I’d wait out here for you to come. I wasn’t sure if you were even coming, in truth, but Sage explained that she kindly asked for your presence. Assuming was only natural at that point.”

Omen blinked.

He sometimes forgot how… detached Brimstone could be.

But again, that didn’t matter, because he’s shifted his weight to the side, letting his shoes click loudly against the hardwood floor of his home.

“Well,” he began, wasting no time getting to the point, “where is everyone else, then?”

He shuffled in her steps, turning around to face him. His gaze was hard-set and analytical, like he was about to read off a max income report at his next trade meeting.

“Cypher thought it would be a good idea to sing Christmas songs—“

“Wait, Cypher is here?” Omen blinked. “Who invited him?”

Brimstone rolled his eyes, crossing her arms over his chest. “I did, Omen,” he huffed, fixing him with another stalwart look, “this isn’t just some company-exclusive party. If it was, I would not be holding it in such a place.”

Oh. That explained the extravagance of this god-awful house, then. But he only saw one car parked out front, so…

“Don’t tell me you actually have a valet service.”

“You seem surprised,” he winked, chuckling lightly. “I’d assumed you of all people would be familiar with such a concept, ferrying around the docks.”

Did he just— whatever, he was going to ignore it. Brimstone can make all the petty insults he wants because he doesn’t want to be here anyway.

“... Don’t even know why you have to say this shit,” he grumbles mostly to himself, shrugging as Brimstone led him down yet another hallway (this place was really beginning to feel like a maze…), “At least I have friends who invite me places. You’re the one always hosting parties, never getting invited…”

If Brimstone seemed ruffled, he didn’t show it, instead choosing to burst open another set of double doors, arms wide and smile wider as Omen was met with the scene of so many people.

Why Brimstone decided to have such a public Christmas party this time was beyond him; he was perfectly fine with the size of last year’s party, because now there were way too many people and it felt suffocating. Luckily, he spotted a large ponytail in the crowd over all of the voices and music; casting a parting glance at Brimstone, he made a beeline for the familiar comfort of his friend.

“Sage,” he sputtered upon reaching her, sighing to himself as she turned with a quizzical look on her face. “I made it.”

He watches, heartwarming, as sweet Sage breaks into the wildest grin. She reaches out to him gently, pulling him into a welcome hug, a quiet laugh bubbling in her chest, “Omen! You made it! I wasn’t even sure if you were going to come after last—“

“Let’s not talk about that,” he laughs off the anxious tone in his voice with a sheepish smile, relaxing as Sage’s own shoulders drooped, an invisible weight seemingly lifted off of them. “I had no idea everyone else was here so early, but I’m here now—“

“Oh, you’re fine!” Her laughter is light and airy (refreshing) while she swats the air with a hand. At that moment, Omen realized just how much he missed her quiet demeanor, feeling his nerves relax. “The party won’t be over for a little while. I saw Neon a little earlier, if you’d like to see her, and of course Cypher’s here… though where he went I have absolutely no idea. Honestly, the entire idea of him orchestrating a big Christmas party like this is a little strange, but it’s still fun!”

… Wait, what?

But before Omen could even begin to ask, Sage linked her arm with his and began guiding him through the crowd. “Come on, I think I saw Neon somewhere nearby—“

Suddenly, in Sage’s attempt to slip right between two unconcerned people, a flash of bright black and orange hair fixes itself in Omen’s peripheral, and he’s accidentally pushed directly into whoever it was that just walked in front of him. Ahead of him, Sage stopped in surprise, unlinking her arm with Omen as he took a step back to put distance between whoever he just ran into. The apology was right on his tongue, but the man beat him to it.

“Oh damn, sorry about that!” the man’s face tilted upwards, a sheepish smile weaving between his features. “I totally didn’t see you there, that’s my bad.”

“No, it’s fine,” Omen says, shaking his head in complete nonchalance. He casts a click glance at Sage, whose eyes were wide as she looked at the man. “We were just going a little fast.”

The man opened staggeringly orange eyes and directed them to Sage. To Omen’s complete surprise, the man’s smile brightened, cheeks flushing slightly as he offered, “Sage! I haven’t seen you in a while, how’ve you been?”

Omen watched with growing confusion as Sage seemed to... hide herself behind him.

“I’ve, ah, been good, Phenoix…” she offered lightly, and Omen found it incredibly odd; he squinted up at Phoenix , finding his sunny disposition a bit startling. He hadn’t done anything yet, and seemed to have a decent personality… so, why was Sage reacting the way she was?

Maybe he worked with Brimstone and was just as, if not more terrifying than she was. Omen could see it; hiding such ruthlessness behind a friendly demeanor was a common tactic in the business world. But something just seemed… slightly off…

“That’s good!” Phoenix gave a soft laugh, directing his gaze back to Omen.

Omen wasn’t stupid. In all of his years of antisocial behavior and people watching, he learned to pick up on various cues that indicated when there was something hidden behind someone’s words.

Right now, the way Phoenix ’s eyes lit up when they reached Omen told him that this man had just realized something. And whatever it was, it couldn’t have been good, because he responded in a tone laced with sickly sweetness, “Who’s your friend, Sage? I don’t believe we’ve met.”

Definitely ruthless.

“This is Omen… he’s done security work for the company before.” She was being awfully quiet, but Omen knew when to interject, and that wasn’t now. “He’s worked with us for a few years now. I, ah, actually worked alongside him a couple of years ago, so that’s how we know each other.”

Phoenix ’s stare lingered a moment longer, before his eyes closed and his gaze retreated. Omen released a breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding; there was something needlessly intimidating about Phoenix , and even though he was sure he could take him in a fight, he wasn’t about to fuck around and find out.

This was Brimstone’s Christmas party. A bunch of high society members were here for some strange reason, including Cypher (which was a completely different enigma in its own right), and he was not about to start fighting with someone who’s intimidating aura could rival Brimstone’s.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it!” Phoenix gestured with one of his hands, which Omen noticed was holding a drink. In fact, he was holding two drinks. “Omen, we should talk sometime. Any friend of Sage’s is a friend of mine.”

“... Sure.”

The haunting, silvery liquid swirling in the two flutes Phoenix held lay stamped in Omen’s mind as he gave a wave of farewell and disappeared into the crowd.

As soon as the redhead was out of sight, Omen whipped around to Sageand spat, “Sage, what was that all about?”

“W-What do you mean?”

“Who was that?” Omen crossed his arms as she turned around and continued through the crowd; if she wasn’t going to listen while standing still, then he’d just talk while they were walking. “Why did he have such… why was he so unnerving? What the hell is up with his eyes?”

“... Can we talk about this later—“

“Sage! Omen!”

Another high pitched voice appeared in the crowd; the two people in question turned to see a flushed Neon waving at them from across the room.

Her usual blue attire had been replaced with an elegant, off the shoulder black dress, her royal blue hair maintaining its signature style while being elaborately piled on the back of her head.

“Neon! We’ve been looking for you!” Omen could hear the anxiety jump out of Sage’s throat as she embraced her friend with open arms; the soft blush on Neon’s face at the contact, coupled with the smile spreading across her face was enough to remind Omen of his own—

No. Stop it. No self pitying until he at least saw Cypher. The most he could do was greet his friends with a bright expression before leaving the party and spending another year crying over some dumb man.

“Hey, Neon,” he offered, offering a slight smile her way. “You look nice.”

“I can say the same about you,” she chuckled, meeting his gaze, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a suit before.”

“Yeah, well,” he began, looking away, “Brimstone told me to come like this. I thought it was odd for a small party, but… I guess it wasn’t so small after all.” he shrugged. “Anyways, how’s it been? I feel like we haven’t spoken in ages.”

“It’s been good, it’s been good,” she shook her head, nodding either to herself or to Sage, who was peering over the crowd, looking for someone. “Work’s been hell as usual, but that’s just because it’s Christmas. I’ve been looking forward to this party all week, I can finally take some time to relax and spend time with my friends and family outside of work.”

Omen found himself enjoying the banter. His gaze shifted back to Sage, his stomach dropping as he recognized that familiar look of horror spreading in her eyes. Her black eyes had constricted, her face paling as her shoulders stiffened and set into a tight square.

Oh god. Sage wasn’t just worried, she was actually scared.

Neon seemed to see it too, because she quickly offered a word of parting before disappearing back into the crowd. Sage looked like she wanted to disappear, and as Omen turned around, he could see why.

Ah.

The sight of a slick black car dotted with snow comes rushing back to him as the one person he’d desperately wished to avoid strides right up to him with a familiar redhead latched onto his arm.

“Yoru…!” Sage’s voice trailed off into silence as Omen felt his mind go blank, his own shoulders setting. Fight or flight switched to ON in his brain as Phoenix gave him a smug look from his position on Yoru’s arm. Meanwhile, the man in question was staring expectantly at Omen in all his glory.

Yoru was every bit as beautiful as Omen remembered. Dark, blue hair framed his defined face, amber eyes glinting in the yellow light of Brimstone’s party. The voices around Omen seemed to fade as his eyes trailed over Yoru’s lithe frame, which was covered in the most elegant black suit Omen had ever seen him wear. He wondered if it was specially tailored, to which his eyes trailed over to Phoenix, who was smirking smugly into his drink the silvery liquid not doing much to hide his smile.

Omen’s attempts at avoiding him over the past year fell flat time and time again, and it seemed this was no exception, even if it was one of the most emotionally rough times of his life. He felt the life literally drain out of his face as he was acknowledged by the taller man.

He knew it, he shouldn’t have come here, Sage had laid a trap with almond tofu at its center and Omen had been the dumb rat who gave in—

“It’s been a while, Omen,” Yoru’s voice was every bit as buttery smooth as Omen remembered, sounding much better in person than over the phone or from far away in their workplace. Sadly, that buttery tone was only saying a single phrase over and over in Omen’s head, and it was all he could think of as Sageinched closer to him. “We haven’t spoken in a long time. I hope I haven’t done anything to upset you.”

God damn everything he loves, this man is as beautiful as he remembered.

But Omen wasn’t going to focus on that because the mantra of Yoru’s own making was playing over and over in his head and instilling in him the strangest sense of self confidence and purpose that he’d ever felt.

“No, it’s fine, I’ve just been busy.” Omen laughed off his nerves, though he knew it was an unconvincing act as he couldn’t bring himself to emote. There’s too much going on, from Sage’s frightened look to Phoenix ’s manic excitement, all the way to Yoru’s sudden appearance—Omen has a sudden urge to turn around and disappear forever.

The only thing making this entire encounter worse is the way Phoenix was currently smirking at him. The more Omen stands there, unsure of what to do, the possibility of him engaging in an all out fist fight grows higher by the second.

This is Brimstone’s party. You will not fight at Brimstone’s party.

“I’ve tried texting and calling you,” Yoru pouted, and God Omen hated whenever his eyebrows would pinch together in that agonizing kicked puppy look. “I was sure we were friends. You just… sort of fell off the face of the earth.”

“I just got a new phone last Christmas,” Omen offered, though he knew his lies weren’t working. “Anyways, ah, how have you been, Yoru? It really has been a while since we last talked—“ God, how he did not want to think about their last, full-fledged, in-person conversation— “and I’m sure you want to catch up.”

Sage gave an “eep” behind him as Yoru’s eyes lit up, using the arm currently not trapped by Phoenix to gesture to the ginger next to him. “Right, of course. Phoenix already mentioned he met you earlier, but I thought I’d at least formally introduce him to you.”

“Formally?”

“Well, yes,” Yoru blinked. “He’s my boyfriend, after all, so it’s only natural.”

The look Phoenix was enough to send him over the edge. But it had been a year, of course, and Omen was better. He was learned, he was smarter, so he knew just how to respond in a cool and clever manner.

“... Oh.”

He ignored the smack from behind him as Phoenix began chuckling into his drink; ignoring Yoru’s quizzical expression, Omen turned to the fire-haired man in question, whose amber eyes were glinting with a maniacal look of complete and utter satisfaction.

Phoenix knew, and Phoenix was absolutely reveling in Omen’s turmoil.

This is Brimstone’s party. Do not punch him.

“You mean you seriously didn’t know?” Phoenix had the dumbest, self-satisfied look on his face, and it was really starting to piss Omen off. This was the dickhead Yoru actually chose to date? This dumbass who was so keen on embarrassing him in front of Sageand Neon? “Wow, I mean, Yoru told me you two had no contact over the last year, but you didn’t even know about me?”

“Yoru and I have strictly maintained a working relationship,” Omen spat out, a bit too bitter for his liking; Sage’s hand on his shoulder was the only thing keeping him grounding to reality over the sheer absurdity of this situation. “It’s not like we spend time chatting it up with each other when we’re on the clock.”

“You’re right, Omen,” Yoru interrupted, casting a disapproving glance in Phoenix ’s direction, “We don’t talk much… at least, not as much as we used to. Which brings me back to my original point: I’m not sure if I did anything to upset you, but I want to apologize.”

Not this literal idiot apologizing for something that wasn’t even his fault. Omen was going to break one of the drinks these guests were flaunting and push the shards into his stupid beating heart. For Gods’ sake, Phoenix was literally right there!

But no, he would remain calm, because there would be no fighting here at Brimstone’s stupid holiday party.

“If you wanted to talk,” Omen began, trying to focus on Sage’s calming touch on his shoulder, “You could have just emailed me. I told you, I got a new phone, so even if you were trying to contact me, there was no way I was getting your messages.”

“I did send you emails.” That quizzical look was back on Yoru’s face, sending Omen’s stomach tumbling down flights of stairs.

Oh fuck.

”I sent you a lot of emails, now that I think about it. I genuinely thought you were mad at me, and I wanted to rectify any differences between us as quickly as possible.” Another frown, and then the stupid words Omen had been absolutely dreading to hear.

“I’m sorry, Omen—“

“I’ll be right back,” Omen interrupted, ignoring the way Phoenix ’s face broke out into a grin as he spun around on his heel. “It’s a little too hot in here, I need a refresher.”

“Omen, it’s 20 degrees outside—“

“I can handle it.”

Omen disappeared into the crowd on that final note, trying to steady his shaking hands.

Yoru’s words from last year were a battered mantra in Omen’s mind, and all he wanted was to get it out.

Escaping that suffocating, stuffy room that Brimstone led him to was the first step. He was in another foyer with another staircase, this time by itself with only a tree to keep him company; he ignored the gilded ornaments as he ascended, their luster lost on him while he tore his tie from around his rapidly heating neck.

Finally. The upstairs. He didn’t care if he was trespassing on Brimstone’s property, or whatever, because it was dark up here and there was no one else around to hear him wallow in self-pity, just like he’d planned to do. But no, he was too nice, because he cared about Sage, and because he decided to care he ended up getting his heart broken— except no, that was last year, and it was becoming last year all over again.

Images of Phoenix ’s smug face danced in Omen’s mind, and all the feelings of disappointment and anger and betrayal came to a head as Omen approached the nearest set of balcony doors and swung them open—

The wind and snow burst into his vision, but his mind went still because, for some fucking reason, out of all the places he could have chosen, there was a person leaning against this particular set of doors.

Whoever it promptly fell backwards with a surprised shriek, scattering snowflakes all over Omen’s suit.

“What the— Cypher?”

He’d recognize those mechanical blue eyes from anywhere. The man—Cypher—gazes up at Omen with wide glowing, a His mask shifting, showing a smile.

He’d wanted to have his mental breakdown after talking to Cypher, because Cypher would inevitably ask questions Omen didn’t want to answer. Cypher had always been super nosy and never knew when to quit, and Omen hated it.

“... Omen!” Cypher scrambled to his feet, dusting the snowflakes off his clothes and closing the balcony doors. The refreshing cool of outside was gone, much to Omen’s disappointment. He took his mind off of it by observing Cypher’s outfit, which was remarkably strange because Cypher had never been one to wear a suit of any kind (he always claimed they were stiff and limiting, Omen recalled), yet here he was, clad in black with a beige tie to match.

Was formal wear some sort of prerequisite for this party?

“Oh my god-Omen, it’s been forever!” Cypher’s voice was way too chipper for Omen’s dampened attitude, so he just grumbled in response. “I didn’t even know you were coming to this party, but wow, am I actually glad to see you! We haven’t spoken in almost a year, what have you been up to?”

“Cypher,” Omen began, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose, “For just this one time, please, can you not rhyme when I talk to you?”

“... Okay,” he began lightly, but it was obvious Omen’s damper mood was affecting the atmosphere between them; he could feel the energy drain from his companion as Cypher began again, “Wait, Omen, is everything okay? The last time I saw you like this, it was because of… er, that guy.”

Oh, yeah, how could Omen have forgotten? Cypher hadn’t exactly been there to experience… that, last year, but he’d stuck around for the aftermath. It was fair for him to forget, because he could barely remember anything after Yoru said those stupid words straight to his face. Besides, what would Cypher care?

Cypher hadn’t cared enough to stick with Omen during one of his worst times, so his own insincerity was fine.

“That guy is currently downstairs and flaunting his boyfriend in my fucking face,” Omen spat, shaking his arms in exasperation. “He doesn’t even… he doesn’t even know what he did, Cypher. He’s so stupid, and it’s just…” Omen sighs, shaking his head. “I seriously shouldn’t have come. I knew I shouldn’t have come.”

“Woah, shouldn’t have come?” Cypher’s tone snapped Omen out of his reverie, because there was something in it that was so far removed from his usual self that Omen couldn’t help but notice. “I mean, you did come, and besides, if you didn’t, then you wouldn’t have known about Yoru’s boyfriend. I didn’t even know about Yoru’s boyfriend.” An annoyingly coy smile began to spread across Cypher’s face as he asked, “Did he look like tough competition?”

“That’s not the point, Cypher,” Omen huffed, turning away; he wouldn’t think about the way Yoru looked so content surrounded by Phoenix , Omen, and Sage. Omen just knew Yoru was in his element, which meant he was comfortable with everyone around him, which told Omen he never even had a chance. “And, if I didn’t come, then I wouldn’t have to deal with these shitty emotions like last year, and I’d actually maybe be having some fun right now.”

Cypher blinked, which was odd for him. “Shitty emotions?... Omen, are you still hung up on Yoru?” Cypher crossed his arms, sighing. “The last time we talked, I thought you said you’d moved on.”

“Cypher, what the fuck are you even talking about?” Omen asks genuinely, unable to keep his volatile emotions out of his tone. The way Cypher winced at his words was enough to make Omen rethink them. “Look, I just… I didn’t want to come here, and I did come here, and I seriously regret it.”

Cypher was quiet, then shrugged, “Well, I don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Regret you coming here,” Cypher said with a laugh, taking a step closer to Omen. “I actually missed you a lot, this past year. We were really close there for a while, I thought I’d done something to piss you off.” Cypher’s eyes fluttered, sparkling with the light of nostalgic reminiscence. “It was around this time last year, too. You were much more open to Christmas music.”

Omen scoffed internally, both at the mention of last year and of dreaded Christmas music; yeah, like Cypher wasn’t the one who stopped responding to his messages. “Yoru said the same thing… he said he missed me and that he tried to reach out to me. I don’t know why he even did that…” he shook his head. “Why would anyone even try to stay in contact after that?”

Cypher shrugged. “Well, let’s not focus on that right now, because it’s in the past. Also,” the smile was back, and gold met green as Omen recognized the familiar mischievous twinkle in Cypher’s eyes, “I actually really miss talking to you and I want to be friends again.”

Omen rolled his eyes; at least this was getting his mind off of Yoru. “Fine,” he sighed, reaching down into his pocket, fingers wrapping around the smooth glass of his phone. “We never stopped being friends, by the way. You just… stopped responding.”

Cypher froze mid-reach for the phone, like he’d just been caught in a devious act. “Er… okay,” he laughed sheepishly, shaking his head, blue braids framing his confused face. Omen didn’t know what there was to be confused about. “At least we can… still be friends? Omen, we are friends, right? Even after everthing that hap—”

“Cypher, just give me your number, I’ll… text you tomorrow or something.” Omen cuts in while rolling his eyes, handing his phone to Cypher. He wanted to get this over with already, because the longer he was with Cypher, the more questions he had to answer, and the less time he had to cry in a bathroom in peace somewhere.

Thanks to Cypher’s all-too-recognizable look, Omen knew the question hidden behind Cypher’s lips before he even spoke.

“Hey, wanna hear any music? I have a few songs that might calm your nerves.”

“I hate Christmas music.”

Cypher shrugged, dropping Omen’s phone back into his hands. “Doesn’t have to be Christmas Music,” he chuckled with a wink, linking an arm around Omen’s neck. Cypher was suddenly close, very close, and it was warm and hot and Omen really just wanted to leave.

He wasn’t sure if he said yes to Cypher’s request. He doesn’t remember descending the stairs, he doesn’t remember saying goodbye to Sage, Neon, or Brimstone, he doesn’t remember leaving early and climbing into his car, making the hour and a half drive back to his small apartment in the-much-warmer-but-not-by-a-lot city.

He parks his car, ascends to his apartment, and takes a much needed cold shower, where he can’t tell the difference between his tears and the water running down his face.

If he doesn’t think at all, he can forget this party—forget Phoenix , forget Yoru, until everything is a swirling mess of Christmas colors and bright spring green…

Cypher will reach out soon enough; it’s inevitable now that he’s got Omen’s contacts. But he can remember that in the morning, after he’s slept, after he’s cried everything out of his system…

When he wakes up the next morning, head rolling and nose stuffy, he realizes he must have forgotten something else from that party—

Because he definitely doesn’t remember ever giving Yoru his number.

(hello everyone!!! Thank you for reading, I'm planning about 8~9 chapters for this fic. Sorry for making Phoenix such a ass, it has do be done for the story! No, me starting a new series doesn't mean I'm abandoning Warmth Of The Sould, I promise I'll release the Christmas chapter ASAP! If you have any comments or critiques I would love to hear them.)

#cypher #yoru valorant #cypher x omen #omen valorant #christmas #friends to lovers #modern au #christmas party #miscommunication #no beta we die like men #one sided love #sage valorant #valorant #fanfiction #phoenix valorant #neon valorant #headcanon #very ooc #ooc

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spoctertech · 10 months

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Warmth of the Soul-A Cyphmen Fic

CHAPTER 1

Cold

All life needs temperature regulation, though mammals can usually self-regulate their body heat internally. … well… Omen can’t do that. Heat is a very important part of Omen's life, he needs it to survive. That’s why he bathes in the sun, the glorious sun.

Omen shared this characteristic with reptiles, and right now, he is missing the beautiful sun. He yearned for the radiating ball of burning gas in the sky. So warm.

Omen sighed with a frown. He missed the heat. This is terrible.

Why should Omen be the one in this accursed world to be infected with this? Winter is the worst. Omen hates to bunker down for 3 months every year. His blood basically freezes if he tries to do anything outside. Do you know how terrible that is? It's so hard to move, and even after you heat up your basically out the whole day! Not fun. Just to be able to walk out of his house he has to wear more layers than an onion. Omen has to wear multiple sweatpants, 3 long-sleeved shorts, and 2 hoodies just to be able to not collapse.

Not only does this season almost put him in a coma it also brings more little children singing silly songs. Omen crossed his arms and let out an exasperated humph.

Omen wonders why Cypher decided to such a cold area. Or why he even agreed to live here. He knew what would happen every winter.

But his train of thought was interrupted by the rustling of sheets behind him.

But then he felt a wave of heat come over him. A surprising but not unwelcome development for the wraith. He felt his face get pricked with heat, the man behind him leaning him and putting his head behind Omens neck. He embraced the gloved black hands around his lower waist. Heat radiating from every spot he was making contact. It felt good, like coming into a hot room after spending the day in the cold. He felt the warm breaths press up on his cold next sending ripples of warmth through every nerve in his body.

But as quickly as he felt these ripples the faster they were ripped from his grasp. He normally wakes up before his love but due to the cold, he was restless. Omen would never admit this to anyone but Cypher but he loved being wrapped in the arms of his lover. He loves feeling connected to Cypher in body temperature.

But what he didn't like was the snow in his state. The evil icy snow, poaching his precious mobility. However, Cypher on the other hand LOVES winter, like loves loves. Sometimes he wonders if Cypher likes the winter more than him. Every year he will put up silly little lights and break out all of the toy snowmen to put in the front. Omen doesn't understand how, winter- at least for him- is horrible in every way.

Omen feels a shift behind him, and then, a barrage of kisses. The arms around him squeezing tight.

“Good morning, Omen,” Cypher said, Omen being able to hear the grin in his voice.

“How did you know I was awake?” Omen replied, in his raspy morning voice.

“You were restless” Cypher chuckled.

Shit. He must not have noticed, he has a bad habit of doing that. Omen just hopes it didn't wake up Cypher. But he was probably ready to frolic in the winter atmosphere.

One last kiss to his wheel and the arms around him disappear.

Stealing his cold once again.

Omen let out a sigh, watching as Cypher got out of bed and made his way towards the window. He pulled back the curtains and peered outside, his face lighting up at the sight of the snow-covered ground.

“Look, Omen! It snowed even more last night!” Cypher exclaimed, turning to face him with a huge grin.

Omen just shook his head, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He couldn't help but feel a little jealous of Cypher's love for the cold season.

“I'll be in the kitchen making breakfast, want me to make your favorite?” Cypher asked, already starting to pull on some pants.

Omen nodded, grateful for the offer. He watched as Cypher made his way out of his sight feeling the cold settle back in once again

With a warm feeling spreading in his chest, Omen put on his clothes and made his way to the kitchen. The smell of coffee and pancakes filled the air, and he couldn't help but smile at the sight of Cypher cooking away in his apron.

"Morning," Omen said, perching his head on Cypher’s shoulder

"Morning, love," Cypher replied, planting a kiss on his cheek. Sending warmth through him. Only letting out a sluggish “mmn”.

Omen craved the couch, the frosty air cripling him. He took a few steps and ended up plopping himself on the couch, buried in blankets. And a few minutes later Cypher walked over and handed Omen a cup.

Heat.

The cup felt so warm in the wraith's hands. almost as warm as the coffee residing inside. Omen held the cup with both hands, holding it close in an attempt to heat up himself. He wished he could suck the heat out of the cup he was holding. That would be nice. Though it still felt nice to hold.

At the moment, Omen was concerned. VERY concerned, for his boyfriend of course. The aforementioned was currently making breakfast with a large smile on his face as Omen sat at the table. The very troubling part being that he was shirtless.

Omen knew that Cypher enjoyed the cold. He basically thrived in it. But surely he has to be SOMEWHAT cold, right?

Meanwhile he felt covered from head to toe.

Just to get out of bed this morning, Omen was wearing a hoodie, with the hood up and closed as much as it could of course, a long sleeved shirt, and sweatpants. As well as two pairs of thick underwear. Which was uncomfortable but, the last thing he needed was his dick contracting frostbite.

He took a sip of his hot cocoa, letting the warmth sliver down his throat and spread throughout the rest of his body. He mentally shivered and tingles flew through his spine.

Omen glanced over at Cypher who was swaying his hips ever so slightly while cooking. A soft hum escaped from his mouth as the grease sizzled and popped. Cypher's grin was wide, and he bobbed his head to an inaudible rhythm while tapping his right foot.

Omen couldn't help but admire the man, he was a beam of light in any situation. Even on the gloomiest of days, or frosty winter mornings, he radiated joy. It seemed almost unfathomable to be down in his presence. However, Omen could sure try.

Winter is horrible.

A hand placed a plate before him, interrupting his detestation of anything chilly. As he glanced at it, a faint steam emanated from the contents, filling the atmosphere with the coziness the man craved. His stomach growled as he picked up a fork.

Cypher sat next to Omen. Putting a hand on his back and rubbing it.

“Omen, Are you ok? you're tense,” he said in a caring tone.

He directed a sharp look at the watchdog before realizing his own glare and softening his expression. Unbeknownst to himself, he looked and felt upset but Cypher could sense his mood before he even realized it himself.

Instead of responding verbally he crashed his head into the other’s shoulder. Letting it rest there as he soaked in his bodyheat.

Cypher hummed and pulled him closer, trapping him comfortably in his arm and continued to eat silently. Omen wasn’t even hungry, he just wanted to feel the mans signature warmth against himself. Cypher’s rough hand was massaging his upper-arm, and Omen was certain he was in heaven.

He felt himself start to relax, peace flooding his body as the hand worked circles on his shoulder. Such a tiny action, but the tiny actions are always the ones that hit home runs.

He didn't even realize it, but he was practically clinging onto the man. His arms snaked themselves around Cypher and tried to pull him even closer. His mind was calm and swimming with only one thought, “I love him.”

(I hope you liked it everyone!! You can follow my a03 acc[same name] Also sorry for the strange formatting, the a03 to Tumblr is strange.

CHAPTER 2

Cold.

Omen was scowling and crossing his arms.

Him and Cypher went out for the day to meet up with a few of the other agents. The ghost was wearing too many layers, he looked like shit. It was cold, blistering cold. Everything was covered in white.

Viper had the wonderful idea to meet up at a café and enjoy a nice hot cup of coffee with everyone. This would be a perfect idea…

IF THEY DIDN’T ALL DECIDE TO SIT ON THE PATIO!

It would be the worst day of his entire life, but luckily they had a large heat lamp on the patio. Omen respected that. That was awesome.

“What's up with him?” a snarky voice asked, joined by a finger jutting out straight at him.

Cypher stopped his conversation with the other three and glanced at the two of them.

Chamber was right across from Omen, both seated at the far left of the table. Just as the watchdogs mouth opened to answer, he was stopped.

“Why don’t you ask me yourself?”

“... Alright. What’s up with you? You look like a cartoon character.” Chamber’s expression could’ve been made out of stone, it was unreadable.

“Fuck you.” “You wish you could.” “Snarky bitch.” “Budget casper.”

Omen uncrossed his arms, and his hands slammed on the table. “TAKE IT BACK!” Omen was leaning forward, in a display of aggression. Meanwhile, Chamber was completely unbothered, maybe even slightly satisfied.

“Make me.” Omen was now the one who was pointing at the other. “I FUCKING WILL!” Omen began to get out of his seat but a large and very firm in its intent to keep the other down sat on his shoulder. The hand squeezed and Omen began to sit back down.

Reyna got up and walked to their edge of the table. She leaned over it, in between the two of them. Her voice hushed but frustrated, “You two shut the fuck up , you’re causing a scene. Now is not the time.” The ghost and sniper collectively huffed as she sat besides Viper again.

Cypher started, “Omen has a rough time around the winter season, due to being cold blooded.” Another squeeze to his shoulder. Being a seasoned engineer, the man really knew his way around his hands. Omen’s heart fluttered. ‘He’d much rather be home currently.”

Chamber tsk’d and Omen’s heart stopped fluttering. “Ah, so that’s why he ditches every meet up and training session when it's cold outside. Always thought it was suspicious how you always got sick every single winter without fail. Allergies my fat ass.”

“Actually i was sick, i get-” Omen noticed the sniper mocking him, making a stupid and punchable face while mimicking his speech. “...” Chamber stopped and stared at him, smirking.

One last squeeze and then the beloved hand that he loved so much returned to its owner’s side. Damn you, Chamber. Damn you.

CHAPTER 3

Heat.

Omen could feel himself blush and his insides squirmed. A hand that felt rough and hot was rubbing tantalizing horizontal lines on his lower back, as a pinky followed the motion slightly below his jogging pants. Lazy and slow. Omen was laying on him whilst being held by him.

Him and Cypher were attempting to watch a movie, snuggling on the couch under a blanket. Or at least, he is. Cypher is attempting something else entirely. Though his eyes were glued to the screen; Omen knew the watchdog was focusing much more on him.

Having been boyfriends for years and fiancès for months, Omen knew exactly what his man was attempting to do. Rile him up. Cheeky bastard.

They were watching a horror flick, which is how Omen knew there was no way in hell Cypher was possibly paying attention, Cypher couldn't handle being alone in a dark room. Omen side eyed him to get a good look at his face, it was as stoic as ever. He definitely had other things on his mind.

A woman on the tv screamed and was getting hacked to bits by a large man with a machete. Suddenly, Cypher’s hand felt lower than before and Omen felt his joggers shift slightly. The man's pinky was no longer just above his ass.

He felt red hot, his blood felt well past boiling but he was the opposite of angry. Which was highly unusual for him. He must resist the man’s temptations! The seducer beneath him had strong tactics, but Omen was sure he could last the night without succumbing!

The same pinky belonging to the man brushed past something. Instinct took over the ghost and he snapped his head to look down at the watchdog staring at him with his eyes wide. Cypher, who took his leisure slowly turning his head and craning his neck a little to meet his lover's gaze. Simply said…

“What?” His voice was soft and teasing and there was a smirk on his snout. Although tiny, it was immediately noticed by the man on top of him. “This is making you feel warm, is it not?”

Suddenly, all desire to speak was drained out of him. He slowly lowered his head back to the watchdog’s neck and averted his attention back to the movie. Sure, there was now a man being dumped into an acid barrel while still alive. But, Omen couldn’t focus on all the cool effects and budget gore. His mind was swimming with naughty thoughts.

He felt a longer finger push and prod around almost as soon as they both turned their attention back to the screen. Oh yeah, this is where it gets good. Now this was some real warmth!

He bit the inside of his cheek and waited for an intrusion.

Just then a phone rang, and not just the finger, but the entire hand disappeared. Omen almost whined. Yes, he almost WHINED . That same hand was now wrapped around a phone.

Omen heard a small “shit.” come under the other man’s breath. “It's brimstone-” Cyphers eyes met his and sent him a soft apology.

Omen almost saw red. Those- those- those COCKBLOCKS! What is it they want now? This is ridiculous. They’re always calling his cypher, HIS MAN, out of the BLUE to pressure him to work. This is ludicrous. Awful. BLASPHEMY. He should go down there, and give the snooty higher ups a piece of his fuckin mind! Maybe a broken nose too-

“-make it up to you later.” And then the watchdog kissed his forehead. Suddenly, Omen no longer had any desire to yell at people in positions of power. The tall wormed his way out from beneath his ghost. Omen’s hand quickly shot up and turned Cypher’s head back towards him. The man’s thumb was milliseconds away from hitting that answer button. His fiancè’s face looked so handsome in his hand.

“You better.” The watchdog smiled, hit the answer button and then walked away. An annoyance in his tone.

Though frustrated, the promise of later was enough for the wraith. The other wasn’t one to disappoint. He could settle for later, that’s fine.

But then again… there goes warmth.

Oh well. It’ll be back soon anyways.

(Christmas chapter 4 coming soon hopefully! Please follow for more if you enjoyed this!)

#valorant #fanfic #cyphmen #cypher #fluff #cuddles #modern au #snow #winter #fanfiction #ooc #cold blooded #anger issues #cypher x omen

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