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Landing on Seegenpelater, it's almost too good to be true. There had been two glorious months when K had bounced between a few Nordic cities and it feels much like the countryside around them, the scenery beyond beautiful.
K forgets for a moment what's happened, closing their eyes and taking in the feeling, sucking in long, clean feeling breaths of air.
When they open their eyes again, it's to see Jammer standing in front of Evan as he hunches over, using his own hoodie to shield the otherwise naked man from sight as he digs around in his bag for a change of clothes.
K feels a stab of guilt over the bag. It’s something they got him, back when they were together. Part of them feels like it’s tainted because of that. They know that Evan won’t ever get rid of anything functional unless he has a better replacement for it. Which means that he's going to keep using the backpack of holding until someone gets him a newer one or the enchantment wears off. And if the enchantment wears off, they know he’ll keep using it even then, just as a regular backpack.
No matter what Evan does, no matter where he goes, he’ll have to keep using the backpack his ex gifted him. And K feels like shit over that, knowing that he’s got his whole life stored away in there, and he’s stuck keeping a talisman of K with him always - given how things had ended between them.
K pulls the hood of their own hoodie up onto their head, shrinking into themself a little bit. In just a few minutes, Evan’s wearing a t-shirt and jeans again, carefully toeing his shoes back on, and tying the laces.
“What happened?” he asks suddenly. “Were we attacked, or -?”
Eyes widening with recognition of what he’s asking, Jammer takes a step away. And then another. Sam scurries after him, mouthing something at K that looks like, I love you, good luck! the traitors wave at them as they disappear out of sight.
K makes a low, groaning noise, gritting their teeth. It’s- not unreasonable for them to not want to be here for this, but K can’t help feeling a little abandoned. They’re pretty sure that no matter what happens going forward, Jammer isn’t ever going to forgive them for killing his best friend. He might have said that he only cared about what happened after, but K knew from his tone that it wasn’t a complete truth.
As if reading their thoughts, Evan looks at them with confusion. If he notices Jammer and Sam leaving, he doesn’t comment on it. He's got a lot on his mind. Pointing his finger accusingly at K, he asks, “K- what happened?”
There’s accusation in his tone. K doesn’t know for sure just how much he remembers but they’re not about to actually lie about it, even if Jammer isn’t here to rat them out. “I- I tried to fix your arm," they squeak. "And I- and I almost killed you.”
Evan doesn’t say anything, his eyebrows going up on his forehead. He rises to stand, the muscles in his arms flexing at the movement, and they have to divert their gaze. Fuck, he looks good these days. He’s still scrawny and he’s not put much extra weight on but what he has put on is pure muscle.
When K was sixteen years old, Evan had been one of the hottest things they’d ever seen in their life. A real-life Kylo Ren: dark, broody, with a tragic backstory and an unflinching need to be a good boy and be useful.
Now, K is nineteen years old, and he’s not their Kylo Ren anymore. He never was, not really. But he does look a little bit like Adam Driver, someone K’s had a crush on for as long as they can remember, and K can’t help but wish the two of them had met later in life- after they’d had time to grow up more, learn what life was really like, so they might have had a shot at being good for him.
Voice much quieter, K drops their eyes to the ground. “I killed you,” they admit hollowly. “I’m- I’m sorry, Evan.” It’s still so fresh, just a few hours ago Evan was just a shadow, haunting a pair of really nice shoes, and K had thought they’d fucked everything up forever.
Trying to look on the bright side, they give him a grimace, their voice increasing in pitch, “But you’re back now!”
The look in Evan’s eyes is haunted and it makes them feel nauseous to look at but they can’t look away. “…you killed me,” he says slowly.
“On- on- on accident,” K insists. It had been an accident. They thought they could- they thought they could fix it, fix the problem, make Evan’s life a little bit better for a while. They should have realised, though. They should have thought about it for longer before trying something big like that, talked to him about what they were going to do first. Given him the chance to provided actual, informed consent to what they were going to try.
He looks wary. “What exactly were you trying to do?”
“To- to fix you?” they wince again and bite their lip. It sounds too much like a question and not like an answer.
“What about me needs fixing, K?” Evan demands harshly. “What in particular seemed not great?”
Stammering, they say, “you- you- you said it was your arm.”
A part of them wants to cry right now but it wouldn’t accomplish anything, it wouldn’t fix anything. All it would do is make Evan feel guiltier than he already feels about literally everything all the time.
Evan extends his arm and gestures with it. “This one?”
K looks down, nodding lightly.
“The thing that I talked about?” he confirms sarcastically. “The thing that’s a healed injury? That just sort of -"
Not able to help themselves, K cuts him off to mumble, “it healed bad.”
That makes him stare at K for a long moment, breathing in deep, heavy breaths that make his shoulders shake. A big part of K wants to hug him, to lift up onto their tiptoes, tuck their arms around his neck, and hold him close. Losing him had been the most terrifying ordeal of K’s life - and the last two years have been pretty wild - and K knows it’s selfish, but all they want to do is cry into his neck until they both feel better about everything.
But they can’t. Because Evan isn’t K’s anymore. And K killed him.
“But I said it wasn’t a problem, right?” he asks.
“Well. You- you say that about a lot of things, but -"
It’s Evan’s turn to interrupt, his voice growing into a snarl. “Well!” he proclaims, “It’s not really your place to decide what my problems are! I kind of know what my problems are, K!”
K sucks in a breath. He’s right, it isn’t their place. But- “No, you don’t!”
“I actually do,” he sneers.
“Sometimes!” K says, “Sometimes you know, but then you just don’t address it and -"
“What’s so crazy about -" Evan starts to say before his eyes suddenly go a little bit wide as he looks around. “Where did Sam and Jammer go?”
“Um. They, uh. They went to go explore. So that we could talk.”
Evan sucks in another sharp, ragged breath, taking K's words in. “I came here -“ he says slowly, “from a glacier of piss. Until five minutes ago, I was holding my dick in my hand. And I need to say something.” He swallows, turning back to look at K again. “There was a time when a fucked-up elbow would’ve been the thing you liked most about me.”
The words are like a knife in the gut. He’s not wrong. Nineteen-year-old K might be an idiot, but sixteen-year-old K was infinitely worse. They had thought it was hot that Evan could get fucked up and survive intact. They had thought it was hot that he’d fought adults in gas station parking lots and been the one to win, that he was capable of surviving just about anything. They had liked the idea of being Evan’s entire world, of being his dark mistress, someone he loved so much he’d tear his own heart out of his ribcage to just to protect.
They can’t really defend themselves. “…that’s -"
“What happened?” he demands. “I thought all the fucked-up, weird, sad shit about me was all super horny?”
They flinch again, stepping back until the collide with the side of the hoopty. You tell a guy one time that you fantasised about him being evil, hunting you down in the woods, and…
“Listen,” K says. “I maybe- yeah, okay. I had a tendency to not always see all of you. I was definitely sort of bewitched by your -“ they stretch out the words a little too long, “Your sadness. And the fact that you- you followed me around like a lost puppy dog and everything.”
Wrong, wrong, wrong, don’t say that, K. The alarm klaxons are ringing in their head. Don’t tell him that, that’s the last thing he needs to hear. “And it was nice!” K tries to save it. “For- for a bit. But then -" no, no, fuck, don’t say that. “It just becomes too much, you know? You can only take care of somebody for so long, telling them you love them knowing they won’t believe you, and knowing that they’re always going to be like -" the imitation of him is bad before it even starts, but K can’t help themselves now, ignoring the smarter brain cells that are screaming. “I’m fine. Everything’s fine. It’s like, totally cool that I wear grocery bags as shoes sometimes. I like it!”
His voice had been cold before but it’s glacial now. “So, let me understand. You wanted to fix my arm. So, you talked to me about my arm. I said, it’s fine. My arm is fine.” He sucks in a breath, his shoulders squaring. “I know what my top ten problems are, K. Arm? Not one of them! And I’m the boss of what my problems are. And!” he’s still going, still ranting at them, and all K can think about is how much he must have needed this- to finally get to yell about something they did, instead of flinching away and pretending it’s all okay.
“- he’s just being himself. So, I’m going to what?” he says, his voice just a little bit higher in pitch while he’s mimicking them. “And, what did you do next? You pointed a wand at it?”
“I did!” K cries out. “And I was going to do healing magic. Because I’m good at healing magic, Evan!” they chew on the inside of their cheek, dancing back and forth on their feet a little, trying to shake off the awful anxiety that’s crushing down on them.
It’s been a while since they’d last seen him and they’ve had a few partners in the intervening time, enough that they thought they were going to have emotional space. They’d thought they could get through this without wanting desperately to fix everything so the two of them could start over. They thought they wouldn’t remember what his hands had felt like on their body, the soft, tentative way he’d explored their skin with his mouth, spending hours learning how to pleasure them, until he could drive them wild with just the drag of his hands.
But it hadn’t been enough. There hadn’t been enough space, enough time, enough partners. Because he’s still Evan Kelmp and they’re still K Tanaka and there wasn’t ever going to be enough of anything to make things easier between them.
“But, I guess,” they admit. “Resetting an arm bone involves breaking magic and that’s kind of- it’s kind of your thing.”
Evan closes his eyes at that, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose. Sounding extremely distressed, he intones, “Magic. Is broken. It’s capitol B Broken, because of the fact that we published those magical secrets that I thought were gonna help. And it didn’t help. Instead, it’s ruined everything. Everything’s ruined, it all got ruined. So: magic doesn’t work anymore. And maybe, choosing to -" his voice doesn’t go up in pitch, instead going lower and a little darker, “Surgically break a bone with the magic that doesn’t work is not a good idea!”
“I- I -"
He doesn’t stop, continuing to shout at K. “And now, we’re running around the world, cosplaying helpers rather than figuring out how to help! You’re dressed up like you’re from the Matrix and what, we’re inviting people to come to the magical world that doesn’t fucking work?”
K looks down at their outfit, squinting a little. The top is gone, courtesy of a bird when Evan was trying to repair it, but they’re still wearing the super sexy, almost to the knee boots, over their tights that yeah, maybe look a little cyberpunk-y, with their hoodie and jacket. It’s nothing like the matrix. It’s got pink in it. And Evan used to like them in those kinds of boots.
“Well, it’s better than doing nothing!” they shriek. “Than just giving up!”
Evan shouts, “Who’s giving up!” he takes a step closer and then another, his voice growing up an octave with each word. “Who’s giving up? Who- who’s giving up? Literally, who is giving up!”
“You’re giving up!”
He’s in front of them now, towering over them. If he were anyone else in the entire world, K would be terrified by the way he’s looming, convinced that he meant them danger. But he’s not anyone else in the entire world. He’s Evan Kelmp and he’s got them backed up against the side of the stupid wooden hoopty-whatever, glaring down at them like they’re the most infuriating thing in the world.
Snarling, Evan says, “I got this -" he gestures towards the pen-scar he’d shown them, back in the hot springs before everything had- “I got this fighting a magic bad guy on a bus! I have not given up!”
They lick their lips, reaching back to plant their hands on the wood, feeling its sturdiness in an attempt to keep them sturdy. Every muscle in K’s body is screaming at them to reach out and touch him, grip him by the shirt, and force him against their body.
They’ve had fights like this before. At the end of their relationship it was mostly fights like this, but there’s something different here. Something utterly electric, that has K extremely aware of the slickness between their thighs, and feeling horrendously guilty over it. It’s not fair to Evan to get horny right now, not after everything they’ve put him through in the last twenty-four hours and the three years before that.
His hand slams into the wood above K’s head but they don’t flinch, their mouth dropping open. “I am trying to fix what’s broken!” he snarls. “Before we roll out the red carpet to a bunch of Tumblr users!”
He hadn’t known what Tumblr was, not until they’d shown him theirs. One of their side-blogs anyway, something not too embarrassing for the guy they were head over heels for to see. Definitely not the one with all their self-insert fanfiction in it. “Well,” K says lightly, staring at his mouth. “Maybe the Tumblr users can help solve some things.”
“Who’s gonna help?” he growls, his head coming down lower, hovering in front of theirs. “No one does, K! No one ever fucking helps.”
“I wanted to help,” they say. “I still want to help.”
They’re not sure which of them moves first but the next thing K knows, they’re hefting themselves up on their feet to hike a leg around his hip, their mouths smashing together almost violently. He’d only kissed them like this a few times before, when they’d fight at the end, yelling and screaming until one of them broke and they ended up horizontal.
Evan bites at their mouth, not hard enough to draw blood, but enough to sting a little, and he’s got his hand underneath their hoodie, running it along K’s back. K groans, every particle of their existence aware that this is not part of their seventeen step Fix-Magic-and-Get-Evan-the-Right-Kind-of-Help-So-He-Gets-Better-and-then-Win-Him-Back Plan.
But instead of breaking things off and stopping this before it goes too far, K shoves their hands up Evan’s shirt, feeling the ridges of new scars, the slight swell of ever developing musculature, and writhes against him.
There’s a hidden zipper on the sides of their boots so they’re easy to remove, kicking them off to the side, and Evan almost rips their tights in his haste to get them down off K’s ass and off their legs. They’re suddenly incredibly grateful for the dip they’d had in the hot spring, before they murdered their ex-boyfriend, because it had been very apparent that it had been fully cleansing on top of healing.
Jammer had been right about their smell, much to their chagrin. But that isn’t a concern now, not as they kick their bottoms off, leaving them fully bare from the waist down. Their lips only part for seconds at a time and before long, Evan’s tongue is buried in their mouth again as his fingers dip between their thighs, his thumb moving to slide into their absolutely soaking wet cunt.
He swallows their moans, switching to two fingers that he thrusts in and out of them, twisting his thumb roughly to rub against the outside as he does, making them twitch and tighten around him. It doesn’t take much to get them there and take them over the edge. Evan bites at the corner of K’s mouth, effortlessly remembering exactly how to play the strings of their body. They sob a little, sucking in a sharp breath that almost turns into a shriek it’s so good.
“I don’t have any -" he breaks away to pant out, once they’ve stopped spasming as hard and they can breathe again. The bulge against K’s thigh shifts and grinds against them a little bit more.
They almost make a quip about being surprised he’s prepared for literally everything except that, but they know it’ll ruin the moment. Instead, they admit, “Magic IUD. You can -"
He’d taken them bare a few times in the past, but those occasions had been few and far between, Evan always a little leery about anything to do with his bodily fluids.
Staring into their eyes for a long moment, K can feel it as Evan thoroughly analyses the situation and makes a determination on how he’ll proceed. They can practically see the lines of code behind his eyes as his big, dumb, perfect brain completed the calculations.
What K wouldn’t give for him to have grown up with care and support and access to formal education. It’s a crime for someone with a brain like his to be entirely self-taught without full access to educational resources and people to help steer him in whatever direction interested him most.
His thumb flicks across their hood and they keen, their eyes rolling back into their head. They don’t see it but they hear his zipper go back down as he shuffles his hand between them to get himself ready.
Tucking K’s leg up as far as it can comfortably go, he lines himself up, rubbing his cock against their outer folds to wet himself with their slick. The sensation makes them moan, missing the fingers as soon as they’re gone.
K’s been so busy these past few months that they don't bother to give themself any proper self-care most of the time, going weeks or sometimes months without touching themselves. It’s been a while since the last time they got off, longer than they can easily remember, and K is ravenous for it, furiously hungry for him to fuck them into oblivion and make them both forget why they aren’t good together, even if for a few minutes.
The sides of his zipper pinch a little but it’s worth it when he’s finally in, pausing to feel them clench around him as they groan into his mouth. Their hands claw at his hair, the back of his head, feeling the scratchiness of the buzz. “Fuck,” they groan, “Ev’ -"
He huffs out a satisfied noise, grinding into them just to lick the next moan out of their mouth. They're starting to think he’s going to keep teasing them forever but finally he withdraws enough to slam back in, making them see stars all over again. His pace is quick, almost furious, a slightly violent collision of their bodies - but K wouldn’t have it any other way right now. Not with Sam and Jammer not far away, the four of them on an unknown island with whatever manners of danger lurking around the corner, and the traces of terror over losing Evan forever.
K feels a little like they could cry, grinding into each of Evan’s sharp thrusts, wishing in frustration that he was out of his clothes, and they were out of theirs, so they could be fully skin to skin. So that K could feel with every part of them that he’s alive and breathing, that he isn't just a dream, and that he isn’t gone.
It’s quick, the path to their second orgasm, but he’s there with them this time. It’s probably something to do with his recently regenerated body or maybe it’s just been a while since he’s been with anyone; but too much longer and it would have risked them being walked in on so K isn’t disappointed when their peak comes down and he grunts, making a deliciously raspy noise in their ear when he switches to just grinding his cum into them.
They’re still a little out of breath when he pulls away, carefully lowering their leg to the ground so they can wobble on both legs instead of one. He groans a little once he’s out of them, reaching into his bag to grab a towel he just happens to have in there, wiping himself down and then offering to wipe them down, too.
By then, they’ve already pulled their bottoms back, feeling the squish as a little of him dribbles out of them to pool against their cunt. “I’m good, I’m good,” they say, flashing him a smile and fluffing their hair a little, not having a mirror to try and help fix the just fucked hard outside look they know they’ve got to be sporting right now.
Once they’re both somewhat presentable again, Evan turns to them and places a hand on their shoulder. It's warm and they long to lean into it but they know that this didn't change anything between them. “I appreciate you coming for me, you helping find a way to bring me back. But please, I need you to remember to dream small. No big swings with magic the way it is right now."
“Okay,” they say softly. It’s already like nothing happened, like they’d just hashed it out, and then moved on to the next stage of the conversation. It aches.
He takes a deep breath and adds, “And, when things about me that you don’t like occur, please try to remember that they also have to be problems to me for them to be a problem that needs fixing. Don’t just unilaterally do magic about it.”
“They aren’t,” K tells him, sniffing a little. “Things that I don’t like about you. They’re things that you don’t take the time to take care of.” They swallow, crossing their arms in front of their chest and looking away. “Like yourself and your health and your feelings and how your friends feel about you and want to help you.”
“Okay,” he says but they can't tell if he's really heard it.
Not even hours later, they’ll hit the ground, the distinct awareness that they’ve broken a rib. It’s doesn't puncture their lung - the blood the corner of their mouth won't be the right colour for that, something Evan had taught them once - so it’s not an immediate problem and they’ll groan as they rejoin the scene. They'll stand across from Evan with Boudicca’s body between them, feeling a flash of something indescribable.
They'll know what he’s just done.
They'll know that he hadn’t even had time to think, had just reacted purely out of instinct, snapping his wand to do something wordlessly - something incredible and horrifying and amazing - only using his eyes to shut her brain down, killing her within the mere seconds it had taken K to hit the ground.
Feeling Evan’s cum dripping out of them, they’ll clench around it and bite their lip, trying not to swim in the fire-filled look in Evan’s eyes.
She tried to kill someone I love, Evan will say in his defence. And K will know. They’ll know that he doesn’t mean it the way he used to. They’ll know that he means it the way he means it with Jammer, with Sam, maybe even a bit with Boodle and Stitchnit.
They’re not his partner anymore, they’re just a very old friend, one of his first friends in the entire world and the first person to break his heart into a million pieces and stomp on it and the first person to successfully kill him.
But fuck everything.
Because K Tanaka is going to use the power of friendship and found families to save magic.
They’re going to bring back and fix what they’ve broken - making it better and making it for everyone - and they’re going to prove to Evan that they’re more than their sixteen-year-old self and that they can help him the way he needs.