Chapter Text
Elliot knew Guest 1337 was married.
He knew he had a daughter.
He'd heard him talk about them both countless times.
And he hated how that didn't stop him from falling head over heels for the man.
Guest protected Elliot with his life. He spent every round blocking any attacks aimed at him and always helping him out of dangerous situations, without fail. When he got injured, he always said, 'Save your pizza, someone else will need it more.' When Elliot was hurt, Guest would search the entire map to find a medkit for him.
That man constantly had him swooning.
"Watch out!" Guest yelled, jumping between Elliot and John Doe. He raised his arms, blocking the swing aimed at them before quickly punching the killer. John roared and stumbled back, covering his face with his uncorrupted hand.
Guest grabbed Elliot's wrist and took off. They ran to the other side of the map and hid where Builderman had thankfully already built a dispenser.
"Guest, I'm fine—"
"Just sit for a few minutes, okay? Can't have you dying on us," Guest reasoned, lowering them both to sit beside the dispenser.
"I didn't even get hit," Elliot argued. He tried to stand, but was pulled back down by a firm grasp on his hand. He opened his mouth to speak, then a small aura appeared in his vision. "Shed's getting attacked! I have to go help him!—"
"He has plenty of chicken. Elliot, please just take a break for a bit. Even if you're not injured, you're obviously tired from running around the map to heal everyone."
Elliot paused.
He was tired. They were all constantly tired. Tired of running, of fighting, of dying over and over again. He sighed, giving up on trying to stand. He could feel the gentle mist from the dispenser, not healing him but at least replenishing his energy and helping him relax for the time being.
After a moment, Elliot turned his head slightly to look at Guest.
He was still sitting next to him, hand still holding onto Elliot's. He was visibly on guard, which wasn't out of the ordinary. Even in between rounds, he was always so tense, like he was waiting for something to threaten them.
Elliot was pulled out of his thoughts when he felt something trace over the back of his hand. His eyes shot down to see Guest's thumb slowly gliding over his yellow skin in small circles.
Elliot watched, a bit confused by the action.
Then, it suddenly stopped.
"Sorry, I didn't realize I was doing that," Guest said quietly, almost as if he were embarrassed. "Sometimes my hands move on their own," he explained further, looking away. He began to pull his hands away from Elliot's, but was quickly stopped.
"No, it's fine," Elliot assured, lacing their fingers together, "I don't mind. If it's comforting for you, you can keep doing it," he offered the other man a small smile, then turned his head away to hide the slowly developing blush on his cheeks.
Guest was silent for a moment, something that commonly happened when he was thinking. Then finally, the slow rubbing came back. Elliot could tell it was a mindless action. He did something similar, where he would tap his index and middle fingers repeatedly when anxious, always without thinking.
He slowly turned his head back, barely enough to look down at their hands again. He watched the slow movement of Guest's thumb against his skin. It was comforting for him, too. Grounding, even. As he was lost in thought again, Elliot's eyes wandered over to Guest's ring finger.
Guest claimed he'd lost his wedding ring during one of the rounds. Elliot remembered how he wouldn't leave his cabin for days. During rounds, he wouldn't speak to anyone. He'd tried to be there for him, and he was thankful Guest had at least allowed him to hug him once.
It hurt him to see Guest so distraught. He never wanted to see him like that again.
Even after so long, you could still see the imprint of where that ring had sat for so many years.
Elliot hated thinking about Guest's wife. It made him feel guilty for having such strong feelings for him. Falling for a married man was never a good idea, especially if you'd developed such a deep friendship with that man, but Elliot couldn't seem to help himself.
His eyes shifted back up to the veteran's face, tracing over the shape and details of it. God, why'd he have to look like that? He was perfect in Elliot's eyes—rugged and strong while being so caring and trustworthy. Hell, he'd saved everyone's lives more than a few dozen times each.
Elliot wanted so badly to be cradled in those strong arms and protected like he was made of glass, although that second part was probably already true.
"Guest," He found himself saying the other man's name before he could think. Guest's eyes shifted away from the ground to Elliot, who was trying to hide his nervousness.
"Hm?"
"Uh," he hesitated, "I need to tell you something—"
"Hey, ladies," came a new voice. Chance sat on the other side of the dispenser, continuously flipping his coin into the air and silently cursing as it repeatedly landed on tails.
"Hey," Elliot said in return. He reached into his bag and pulled out a warm slice of pizza, which he handed to Chance, "Here."
"Thanks, bud," Chance took the pizza and quickly ate it. It was silent for a moment, until, "So... Why're you two holding hands?"
Elliot immediately yanked his hand away from Guest's, face turning bright orange. "We weren't—!"
"He was helping me calm down. We had a close call with John," Guest cut him off, speaking calmly as a direct parallel to Elliot's panicked voice.
"Okayyy." Chance didn't seem to care either way. He just went back to flipping his gold coin.
Guest ignored his sarcastic response and turned to Elliot, "You feeling better? Think you can get back out there?"
"I was feeling fine earlier, thank you," the pizza man replied, standing to his feet. He shifted his bag to his other shoulder and prepared to start running, but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. Guest gently guided him away from the dispenser (and Chance).
"Meet me in my cabin after?" He asked quietly, most of his voice covered by the humming of Builderman's dispenser.
Elliot's blush had mostly calmed down, but those words quickly made it return. The thought of being alone with Guest, in his cabin, made his brain scream. After taking a moment to process the sentence, he nodded, "Yeah, sure." He tried to make his voice less shaky, but it didn't really work.
"Alright. There isn't much time left. Good luck," Guest gave him a pat on the shoulder before running off into the distance.
Elliot stood there for a moment longer, trying to get his mind under control.
Guest 1337 sat at the end of his bed, holding a wrinkled paper. On it was a photo of him, his wife, and their daughter. One of the corners was torn off, and it was a bit faded, but it was all he had left of them, and he would cherish it for as long as he'd be allowed to.
For a while, he just stared.
Then came a set of knocks on the door, pulling him back to reality. He sighed, gently folded the picture, slipped it into his pocket, and stood to get the door. When he opened it, he was greeted by Elliot.
"Hey, Guest! So, what was it you needed?"
Guest welcomed him in and led him to the couch. They both took a seat and ended up sitting in silence for a bit too long. Elliot tapped his fingers against his thigh, glancing around the room. Finally, he spoke up, the weariness audible in his tone, "So...-"
"You remind me so much of her," Guest said out of the blue, eyes glued to the floor.
"What?" Elliot was taken slightly aback by that statement. "Who?" He asked, confused.
"Daisy... My wife."
Guilt clawed its way to the back of Elliot's mind. Guest had been in shambles the day he lost that ring, and Elliot had done everything he could to comfort him. When he'd mindlessly leaned in, never in a million years would he have expected Guest to meet him halfway. Never in a thousand lifetimes would he have expected it to go as far as it had that night.
And now Guest was telling him that he reminded him of her? Of the woman Elliot envied as much as he did? His mind went blank.
"I vowed to love her forever, and truly, I do, but— Shit..." Guest swore, burying his face in his hands. Elliot watched, swallowing the lump in his throat.
"I think I love you, Elliot..."
And those were the words that broke him.
Elliot grabbed Guest's shoulders and yanked him forward, smashing their lips together. The kiss only lasted a few seconds, because Elliot immediately regretted his decision and tore himself away from the other man at lightning speed.
"Fuck— I'm such an idiot! I don't know why I did that! Guest, I'm so sorry!–" He stumbled over his words, his hands flailing around as he tried desperately to explain himself.
Guest just stared, eyes wide and lips slightly parted.
"You're talking about your wife and I just go and kiss you?? What kind of heartless, selfish person am I!?—" He continued to blather on until suddenly—he was pulled into another kiss.
It was gentler this time, and less rushed. Elliot's surprise slowly melted away, his eyes fluttering closed. He leaned forward as Guest's hands let go of his shirt and instead cradled his face. Was he in heaven? Had The Spectre finally decided to show him some mercy? Or was this just one extremely lucid dream? If it was, he internally pleaded for it to last just a bit longer.
He was so deep in his thoughts that he didn't realize the kiss had ended until Guest said his name.
"Huh?" Elliot's eyes shot open, focusing on the only other person in the room.
Guest let out an amused huff—almost a laugh, but not quite. He wore an endearing, lopsided grin. God, Elliot wanted to punch his stupid handsome face, but at the same time, he wanted to kiss every inch of it.
"Elliot," Guest repeated.
"Yeah?"
"Are you okay?"
Elliot blinked. "Yeah, why?"
"You keep spacing out... Do you feel sick?" Guest lifted his hand and pressed the back to Elliot's forehead, feeling the temperature of his skin.
"I'm fine!" Elliot laughed, swatting the hand away. "I'm just... confused."
"About what?"
"... You... Said you love me..."
"... I did."
Neither of them could bring themselves to look at the other. Elliot stared at an empty frame hung on the adjacent cabin wall. Guest's gaze was turned down at his lap. They both struggled to keep still.
"... Do you?.." Elliot trailed off, like he was afraid to ask. The silence between them was agonizing, and he needed answers. To his dismay, Guest's response wasn't immediate. It was almost a minute before he finally spoke.
"... I do."
It was just quiet enough that Elliot could barely make out the words, but he heard them regardless. His face burned as the sentence repeated over and over in his mind.
He loves me.
And the silence returned, but not for as long, thankfully.
"... Can I kiss you again?" Guest asked. Elliot immediately nodded.