this pain, a burning pain

by Salora

Summary:

Lenoch has a migraine. He comes in to work anyway.

Typically, to keep a consistent schedule like that of a normal person’s, Lenoch would rise from his drug-assisted sleep at 8 a.m. and begin a set routine of stretching exercises.

Today was not a typical day.

Lenoch awoke with the sun in the mid-day sky and a vague pressure behind his eyes. It clung to his skull, rippling along his orbital bones and down, down, somewhere deeper than mortal fingers could reach.

…Ow.

He gingerly set his feet on the floor and sat up, massaging at his face with trembling fingers. Was this a side effect? Had he over exerted himself in yesterday’s fight? No, he’d have known.

He lit a cigarette and took a deep drag, hoping to lessen the pain. It worked, somewhat, but still the pressure remained.

Can’t be helped.

He was supposed to complete a bounty today. Van had to seem infallible, after all.

Lenoch dutifully stretched to the best of his ability and grabbed his phone, leaving for District 49.

He had the feeling a paprika sandwich wouldn’t sit well in his stomach and had logically decided to forgo it.

He swerved through the streets and alleyways, switching identities every few minutes. It was a relief to know that his magic was as powerful as ever, and his senses remained sharp, but the harsh glare of the sun…

…Damn it.

Arriving at the bar, he cast one final ⌞Mask Switch⌝ before pushing the door open. The low buzz of chatter had only gotten louder upon his arrival. Patrons glanced nervously at him, wondering what he would do today.

Suppressing a wince, he sat down at the bar table and greeted Jenny with a nod. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Jordan staring at him suspiciously. Dylan, occupying the seat next to him, only grinned and waved.

Jenny leaned over the counter and smiled.

“Hey there, Van. What’s with the fancy getup today?”

“…Just trying something out.”

In truth, Jenny was exaggerating. All Lenoch had done was wear a pair of sunglasses, in an attempt to block out the light.

Jenny shrugged and brought out a folder.

“I suppose you’re here for the usual? This one’s a mook who thought he could get away with…”

Jenny’s voice became another note in the background as Lenoch resisted the urge to massage his head. Her low, velvety voice usually calmed him, yet today it only served to worsen the pain in his nerves.

“…Van?”

Ah, Dylan was looking at him.

“You…you sure you wanna take this job? You could come back another day. I’m sure there’ll be more interesting targets tomorrow.” He was turned towards him, now, and though the mask Lenoch could see the crease of his eyebrows as he frowned. Lenoch subtly straightened up.

“I’ll be fine. This target’s interesting enough.”

Gracefully, he stood from his seat, bidding farewell to everyone before exiting the bar with a smooth cadence. Once he was far enough, his shoulders collapsed, and he grabbed a cigarette from his pocket and lit it, inhaling the smoke before letting out a shaky exhale. This should be quick.

This was not quick.

The hunt had started well enough, with ⌞Bloody Chase⌝ pointing Lenoch directly towards the target, hiding somewhere in District 40. He’d turned out to have scurried away to the abandoned docks by the sea. How convenient.

Unfortunately, Lenoch had forgotten that ⌞Lightning Call⌝ was a very bright spell. And he was currently very light-sensitive. So as he’d obliterated his target into charred ash, his migraine had made its presence known again, singing through his skull and settling at his neck, keeping a threatening grip on the back of his head.

Not wanting to overdose, Lenoch had had no choice but to endure the pain as he’d lugged the body back to the bar, panting as he shoved it through the back door. His vision swam as he attempted to regain his bearings.

Jordan’s eyes glinted with worry, as they always did when he returned, but he only said, “I’ll take it from here. Go get your payment.” Taking a deep breath, Lenoch nodded and made his way to the front of the bar, making sure to move confidently.

At mid-day, the bar lights had been welcoming compared to the harsh blaze of the sun. Now, they flashed in his eyes, pinching at aching nerves.

He lowered himself delicately into his seat, noting that Dylan was also there. He’d been complaining to Jenny (something about stingy clients?), but the conversation had cut off upon seeing him.

He chanced a glance at Jenny, only to flinch as light reflected off the glass in her hand.

“Target’s dead.”

“As expected of our resident lightning mage!”

Fuck, my head…

“Hold on a sec, I’ll go grab the cash.” Saying that, she went into the back of the house, grinning from ear to ear.

Lenoch would’ve watched her go, if not for the way his vision flickered in and out of darkness, shimmering rainbows warping his sight. Pain thrummed from behind his ears down his neck, clenching at muscles he hadn’t even known existed. A ball of agony pulsated beneath his eyes.

He briefly considered cracking open his skull to relieve the torturous pressure.

“Van.”

“…Yes?” Did Dylan want to chat about something?

“Are you okay?”

“…Of course.” Even his own voice pounded in his ears.

“Bullshit.” There was the sound of movement, and then Dylan had closed the distance between them.

Is he angry about something?

He set up a sound barrier anyway, just in case.

“Van. You haven’t opened your eyes since Jenny left.”

…What?

“You’d never wear sunglasses for fun. You looked uncomfortable when you came in here earlier today.” Dylan was speaking softer, now. More gently. “And your head is bowed. You even flinched just now. It was the lights, wasn’t it? What’s wrong?”

He noticed…

“…Mmph. …Migraine.”

Lenoch slid open his eyes with effort, resisting the urge to close them again against the onslaught of lights.

Have to…maintain Van’s image.

Dylan hadn’t been lying at all. As Lenoch regained awareness of his surroundings, he became aware that somehow, sometime after speaking to Jenny, his head had drooped down and his eyes had simply fallen shut. He straightened his head slowly, making an effort to look at Dylan.

…He really was very close to him.

At this distance, he could see Dylan’s worry etched into his face, even through the mask. His jaw tensed as Lenoch turned to face him.

“Aw, your eyes are all dilated...”

He attempted to frown at him, but gave up when it only worsened the aching tightness in his neck. It was then that Jenny returned, no money in hand.

…They planned this, then.

“So? Did he fess up?” She grinned at Dylan’s nod, leaning over the counter on her elbows to smile gently at him. “We know you’re strong, Van. But you deserve your rest, hm? You’ll get your bounty tomorrow.”

Dylan brought his hands up carefully, settling them at his shoulders and massaging them. “We want to care for you.” Softly, “We want to ease your pain. Will you let us?”

“…”

Surely, it would be much easier to let them help. Lenoch subconsciously leaned into the warmth and sighed.

“Fine.”

Discretely, Jenny directed them to a private room. He attempted to stand slowly to regain his bearings, but the movement still made his head spin. Even the sunglasses didn’t help. Pressure pooled in the front of his head, clawing at his eyes. The black spots across his vision worsened to the point he could barely see anything.

He stumbled, narrowly avoiding falling over.

In the end, he found purchase on Dylan’s arm, and they made their way to the room, Jenny trailing behind. The corridor lights had been dimmed, and Lenoch was relieved to see that the room had been completely darkened, illuminated only by moonlight.

Jenny stopped Dylan before they entered.

“Dylan O’Casey.”

Why does she sound so threatening?

“If you hurt him in any way…I’ll kill you. Got that?”

Dylan saluted and stage-whispered, “Noted, ma’am.”

And with that, Lenoch was ushered into the room, pushed gently onto a plush couch. The careful ‘click’ of the door brought blissful silence, as the darkness sought to tame the beast stalking around his skull. His balance was offset when Dylan carelessly sank into a seat next to him, causing him to lean into his side.

Two hands were brought up to his temples, cradling his head gently. A thumb smoothed over the ridge of his brow.

“This okay, big guy?”

Lenoch exhaled in relief, eyes fluttering shut despite himself. The all-encompassing warmth of those two hands cast away the fog of pain that had settled in his mind.

This okay. This great, even.

“Yeah,” he breathed.

With that confirmation, Dylan moved with more surety. A heady pressure rubbed against the soreness in his head. Slowly, twin thumbs traced a path from his nasal bone across his brows, before resting at his temples to circle them gently. The touch sang blessings into his aching nerves, ridding them of the pulsating tightness that had refused to abate since the start of the day.

Press and rub, press and rub. The repetitive motions soothed him, spreading warmth throughout his body.

Completely enthralled by the massage, Lenoch’s tense figure relaxed, slumping into Dylan’s broad chest.

And yet, it wasn’t enough. Every time the pressure eased, agony returned, like a tide beckoned by the shore. It crashed against the sands, slowly but surely wearing them away.

I shouldn’t be doing this. Van is supposed to be strong. I could just leave…

…

…but I want to stay.

Eventually, he’d had enough.

Giving up on any semblance of dignity, Lenoch pushed his head more firmly into his hands. His face burned.

(Let me indulge in this selfish want.)

“…More.”

Dylan paused, then huffed in amusement, fingers twitching involuntarily.

Lenoch glared weakly at him through lowered lashes, ignoring how he was currently pressed up against the warmth of his chest.

“Shut up.”

Dylan huffed again but acquiesced, lips twitching. He resumed his ministrations, digging firmly into the tenseness that had rooted in the dips above his ears. Lenoch let his eyes drift shut again, settling into his hold.

Dylan then shifted, palms moving to support the back of his head.

Tenderly, his sunglasses were lifted off his face, their arms unhooked from behind his ears.

Wh–Right, I was wearing those…

Setting the glasses aside, Dylan’s fingers returned to his face, tracing his orbital bones, softly swooping across the thin skin of his eyelids. Carefully, they scooped under the arch of his brows, pressing firmly into the space near the inner corners of his eyes.

Miraculously, the weight behind his eyes seemed to lighten, as the agony that had darkened his vision waned, submitting to the grounding heat.

Lenoch exhaled deeply, bringing his arms around Dylan’s waist. He basked in the comfort of his embrace.

Finally, the migraine that had lanced ruinous pain throughout his body was being chased away.

Lenoch was vaguely aware as reverent fingers mapped out the cut of his jaw, gliding beneath to knead at pressure points. He winced faintly at the soreness. Dylan hummed apologetically in response, the sound vibrating low in his chest.

Occasionally, he would squish his cheeks, snickering. Lenoch could only zap him in the side with a weak bolt of mana, too content to get up.

Slowly but surely, pain gave way to relief. Every press of fingertips against the underside of his jaw eased the tightness, soothing tender muscles.

Palms shifted downwards, digits stroking the shells of his ears before coming to rest on his neck. The unwavering steadiness of Dylan’s hands juxtaposed with the fragile delicacy of his neck. And yet, he couldn’t find it in himself to mind.

Strong knuckles massaged down the curve of his neck, fingers playing with the curls at his nape. He shivered, tightening his grip on Dylan, who simply smiled into his hair, unceasing in his attentions.

The knots of pain deep within muscles untangled themselves, giving way to waves of pleasure. Lenoch groaned involuntarily, boneless against the blissful comfort, and nestled closer into his warmth.

If there is a heaven…

With every caress, his breathing evened out.

Imperceptibly, he descended into unconsciousness.

Eventually, the great mage fell asleep.

Dylan shifted carefully, making sure not to wake Lenoch. Laying his weight against soft cushions, he splayed fingers against his back, holding him close. The rhythm of his heart lulled him into slumber.

He closed his eyes and exhaled, whispering into the darkness of the room, “Sleep well, Van.”

If there is a heaven, it must be here with you.

Notes:

Had a terrible migraine and decided I needed to inflict this experience on everyone’s favourite half-dead man. Title inspired by the Ultrakill level THIS HEAT, AN EVIL HEAT, even though I’ve never played the game.

Outtake

Hours later, Jenny quietly unlocked the door, looking into the room. There they laid on the couch, one resting against the other. Both looked impossibly content. Smiling, she seized the chance to take a picture, then closed the door, leaving the two to sleep.

Thoughts

I wrote this while thinking very much about early-days Lenoch. To me, Lenoch at this point in time is still someone who is very much ‘not part of this world’, partly because he doesn’t belong here in the first place, partly because all his allies are new, and partly because he hasn’t yet made a solid mark on the world. He still isn’t used to his civilian alias. He still lacks the financial security that allows him to conduct research later on. Despite his powerful showing, he still isn’t as prominent as someone like Croken, just someone ‘strong’.

All these factors contribute to what I believe to be a very emotionally-stressed man. Because, sure, you know logically that things will get better in time, but emotions don’t listen to logic. And so Lenoch/Dylan worked very well, because I wanted to write about someone who knows they’re loved, who refuses to accept that love, and then is forced to acknowledge that yeah, life is better when you let people love you.

Which leads us to the dynamics in this story.

Lenoch knows he has friends he can trust, but is afraid to show weakness to them and risk them changing their opinion of him. Because if they do, he loses the little leverage he has, and he doesn’t want to be backstabbed or taken advantage of. Throughout this story, he makes multiple attempts to hide his pain, before giving in with Dylan. He can explain it as logically as he wants, but the fact remains: he’s afraid.

Jenny cares for Dylan and Lenoch, and naturally worries about Lenoch more since he makes the most money, but knows that showing too much of that worry would destroy the precarious balance of the relationship they share as bounty hunter and broker. Sure, she could help him now, but that would blur the lines in their newly minted professional relationship, and it may spook Lenoch into becoming wary of her. All she can do is step aside and help Dylan help him, even if she wants to do it herself.

Dylan is someone with a sharp mind who tends not to show it. He thinks about things people usually don’t bother to. He knows that Jenny is bound by her status as broker, and that Lenoch is incredibly reliant on cigarettes. When Lenoch first comes in, looking unwell, he struggles with the lines they’ve drawn between them and gives him an out—he should go home, because the targets aren’t fun enough. Everything he notices, along with his care for Lenoch, is the reason he decides to ‘break’ professionalism in this story to help him.

Jordan (honourable mention), knows about Lenoch’s terrible health. At this point in canon, he is the only person other than Lenoch who knows anything resembling the truth about his physical well-being. And yet, as someone experienced in the underworld, he knows that Lenoch’s health isn’t any of his business unless it directly impacts it. This isn’t going to change much even as his care for Lenoch grows. Thus, he’ll let Lenoch deal with the problem privately instead.

Why Lenoch/Dylan? Why not Lenoch/Aris?

First, Lenoch/Dylan has been rotating in my head since I first saw them in the manhwa. Look at the height difference! Look at how Dylan let Lenoch stand on his shoulders like it was nothing (it probably was)! Their dynamic of loveable dumbass and cold smartass is part of why i like them so much.

There’s also the tension between them, as people with secrets to hide. The fact that they both have so much to lose means that their relationship would have to be built almost entirely on blind trust and time. I know I love you, but do you love me back? Can I let you love me back? (This dynamic of push-and-pull is actually something Lenoch has the potential to share with Jenny as well.)

Could I have written Lenoch/Aris? Do I want to see this happen with them? Yes, and hell yes. But their dynamic at this point in time is entirely different and much more open, since Aris doesn’t have many secrets, and Lenoch is facing her in his true identity. The story would have been taken in a very different direction, with its most natural conclusion (to me) being that Lenoch falls asleep in the library, and Aris watches over him. Which doesn’t sound as intimate as it could be. Of course, you’re free to write a different ending, if you so desire.