He sat on the edge of The Tower of Babel.
Between his teeth, he held a Time Beast crystal while he read a stone tablet in his hands.
Eon had yet to figure out how to escape Vacuity Village, searching the pocket dimension for clues. He had no help from Paradox, not that he expected it in the first place. The sick bastard enjoyed watching him struggle and probably enjoyed the time Eon was being forced to spend with him, too, in their interdimensional equivalent of a locked closet.
Vacuity Village was incredibly frustrating. Whenever he opened an exit, it would only take him to the entrance. The space was infinite but at the same time not. He could walk it forever and would eventually be back in the spot he started. It was here but it was nowhere—a cosmic contradiction that confused the senses. The world was encapsulated within a never-ending loop like a snake swallowing its own tail.
Almost too absorbed in his tablet, Eon nearly failed to realize a second presence joining him on the tower's balcony railing.
"Fuck off, Time Walker." He said around his time crystal without looking up.
A pause. "You normally articulate yourself more creatively than that."
Eon ignored him.
"You know," Paradox gently gestured to his crystal, "that's potentially very dangerous."
"You are the one who told me I should better control my reactions."
Temporal Beasts themselves were able to traverse to the beginning and end of time beyond where even Professor Paradox could reach. They accelerated or slowed inorganic materials and living organisms with beams they emitted from their mouths. The jagged ruby protrusions of their spines, however, became nearly useless when detached—bullets with no gun. Eon had found the corpse of a beast somewhere in the village. Its remains were only bone and red shards, having died in a black hole. When he found he could not weaponize its corpse, the crystals at least served to slow the chaotic jumble of his racing mind. His thoughts were made slower, manageable, and easier for Eon to process as he quietly calculated his escape.
"I've never known you to listen to me about anything," Paradox said. "In any case, I meant that you should practice how to naturally regulate your own emotions through technique and mental exercise."
Eon tuned out his admonishments, studying the runic inscriptions he hoped would help him build a new doorway. The crystal must have been working perfectly since Paradox's head remained unfortunately attached to his body as he took a seat across from him on the tower's railing. The former anodite warily eyed a plain white box held between the Professor's hands as if it were something that would explode.
"I didn't know you could read Aul-Turrhenian." Paradox recognized the homeworld language of the alien species called the Planchaküles, a race of mechanics and builders. "Why did you decide to learn—"
"I didn't." He cut him off, annoyed by the continuous distractions. "I don't speak the language."
If he spoke Aul-Turrhenian, there would be no reason to loiter in a long-forgotten temple, the site where language barriers were born. Now, the tower housed every language on every shelf, brick, and tile that composed it: fictional, real, dead, alive. The building was teaming with speech, constantly murmuring with the background drone of every dialect, accent, and method of communication.
"This is an alphabet tablet. I am learning Aul-Turrhenianin order to decode those—"
Eon jabbed a finger at the inside of the tower toward a shelf of foreign data pads.
"—Planchaküle blueprints, since the people of their race have discovered a way to dismantle the likes of even Chronosapiens. If Planchaküle are capable of taking apart temporal travelers, then it is reasonable to assume they know other secrets regarding space-time disassembly."
"Not entirely. You're assuming a lot; their expertise is not exclusive to disassembly, and their technology is often improvisational, not written down. Even if you were able to understand their language, you may not find the answers you're looking for documented in their texts."
Angered by having the flaws in his plans pointed out to him, Eon clenched his fists around his tablet, glowering for a moment. He forced himself to take a deep breath around his crystal and relaxed.
"I'll see that much for myself. Once I am able to read their writings, I will use their technology to find an exit from this miserable place, since you are of no great help with that—"
"I just don't want to rob you of personal satisfaction once you inevitably figure out a way out of here yourself." Paradox's eyes gleamed with fascination, creepily watching Eon like some experiment. As though this were all a little game to him. "It's not as fun when you are given all the answers, is it?"
Eon ignored him and continued, "Once I free myself from this prison, I will proceed to hunt down every last Planchaküle to make them pay for their colonization of my tongue. First, I will destroy their homeworld and make them watch. Then, I will show their species firsthand dismemberment since that is the specialty their people pride themselves in. Their allies will be the second, and then—"
"You'll kill me?" Paradox guessed.
"Exactly." He said, self-satisfied with his sound logic. "Now fuck off, Time Walker."
"That all sounds very ambitious, Eon. I hate to interrupt your studies—"
"Not enough to leave evidently."
"—but I wanted to bring you a gift. Since it is the season for it after all."
"There are no seasons here."
"Alright, since I broke your helmet then."
The memory of its shattering—of the softness of Paradox's lips and the tickle of his sharp, clean breath cooling his cheek—made Eon feel like he had accidentally set off another star's supernova. He was happy he did not have to look at the man's face, directing all of his attention onto the stone he could not so much as read, ears mottling red hot with the dead blood he no longer needed and only served to display humiliation to his wretched enemy.
The longer he remained in the pocket dimension, the harder it was to remember why it was important to leave. He was losing sight of his own goals again, one of the mental weaknesses Paradox had thrown in his face. It was sometimes difficult for him to keep track of what he was supposed to do, what he wanted, and what he needed. When he remembered what it was like to be held in Paradox's arms, having his face peppered with kisses reassuring him that he was somehow still special despite his commonalities, and the Time Walker's twinkling eyes—looking at him in undisguised enchantment like Eon was still the single most fascinating thing in the multiverse—those became his only wants and needs.
"Who says I want your gift?" He sniffed, hiding his desires behind disdain.
Paradox chuckled. "What if it's a gift that helps you leave Vacuity Village?"
Eon's head shot up suspiciously. "Is it?"
"You would have to open it to find out."
Removing the crystal from his lips, he snatched the unwrapped box out of the Time Walker's hands. Pulling open the lid, he let the cardboard top flutter down the tower. On the way down, it left a long trail of: ɑ æ ɐ ɑ̃ d͡ ɑ̃ d͡ ᚬ.ɑ æ ɐ ɑ̃ d͡ ᚬ.
Inside the box was a motorcycle helmet in the shade of midnight. It was dark but had touches of a purple-and-white gradient that made the material resemble the galaxy. Puzzled, he held the helmet closer to his chest so that he could inspect it for clues to the secret of the universe—or more importantly, how to get off of it.
"How does this help me find an exit?" Eon's brows furrowed.
"It doesn't."
"You lied to me." He accused, narrowing his eyes.
"Never," Paradox disagreed. "I only said 'what if, 'not that it was. You misinterpreted me as you always do. Read the inscription, Eon."
Still half-hoping the secret of the universe was actually hidden on it, Eon squinted at the gift he had been given. Inscribed just above both sides of the helmet's chin plate were human symbols: a quantification denoting uniqueness, the value of being the one and only object satisfying a certain condition.
When he realized the meaning written into his gift, his fingers tightened around the headwear. He wet his lips, willing himself to remain strong against the flattery. Perhaps it had a different meaning he wasn't privy to, but he terribly enjoyed the possible implication that he was the only thing Paradox could be satisfied with; simultaneously, he doubted it could be true.
He liked it too much.
"Do you like it?" Paradox inquired when Eon said nothing. "Do you know what it means?"
"No," He feigned ignorance because he wanted to hear it said aloud. It would make it real: that he was Paradox's one and only one. A shuddery breath left his mouth, his thumb running over the inscription.
"What a shame." Paradox rose from the railing and stepped back onto the balcony. "Good luck with your language lessons, Eon!"
"No, don't—" Eon hesitated, realizing he did not know how to ask him for something. He had never really asked Paradox for anything, least of all something like that.
"Yes?" Paradox's dark brows rose expectantly.
Frustrated, he held out the helmet demandingly. "I said I don't know what it means!"
"I suppose you have more studying to do then." Paradox never lied, but he certainly knew how to find them: lies hid in the twitching of a familiar eye left over from a previous life. Lies were ugly things—the enemy of fact and reason, but they were very adorable when trying to cover up the surprising shyness of his favorite homicidal maniac.
Growling, Eon stood on the railing, slinging the helmet at Paradox as hard as he could. The Time Walker grunted, crashing to the floor of the balcony, but he didn't have time to be shocked—not by the fall anyway.
Because Eon was soon climbing over him, knees on either side of his waist, straddling him. He was shaking with his usual emotional instability, the effects of his crystal wearing off. He was even further infuriated by Paradox's laughing eyes, alight with a private joke he would not share. Mocking him with some sort of hidden knowledge. He smashed his fist into the ground by Paradox's ear, creating minuscule fractures in the ancient temple. The cracking sound released by the babbling bricks visibly floated above them toward the skies: ɑ æ ɐ ɑ̃ d͡ ᚬɑ æ ɐ ɑ̃ d͡ ᚬ.ɑ æ ɐ ɑ̃ d͡ ᚬ.ɑ æ ɐ ɑ̃ d͡ ᚬ.ɑ æ ɐ ɑ̃ d͡ ᚬ.
"What do you find so amusing!?"
"I must laugh. It's the only appropriate response I have left after enduring so many of eternity's absurdities, such as the irony of obtaining everything we want the moment we stop trying." Paradox chuckled, fingers fitting themselves against his hips, and—oh, he didn't want it to stop. Eon's breath hitched, hips involuntarily twitching, making it feel even better.
"So, don't get too frustrated with me please, and forgive an old immortal for laughing, my dear Eon. It is never at your expense."
"Yes, it must be your senility getting the better of you." He grumbled, ignoring everything except 'old,' pride still stinging at the slightest sign he was being made into a joke.
"It must be. I am having the most beautiful hallucination."
Paradox was hardly laughing now, pushing his shirt up, feeling along his stomach and muscular broad chest as he moved the cloth out of his way so he could see more. He wore that strange leer on his face, a misty gaze that was not trained on his face for once. Eon had seen it before when they were fighting, but he hadn't understood its meaning at the time. Now that he did, it made him throb with an unfulfilled ache, a warmth that seemed to seep from his very core.
Eon helped him with the shirt the rest of the way, clumsily and hurriedly removing the garment. He let it and the rest of his and Paradox's clothing fall from their tower, trailing senseless noisy symbols that scattered in the air around them.
When they were finally together, Paradox sat up a bit more, doing him the courtesy of swallowing his surprised little gasps every time he scraped upon tender nerves. His lips moved apologetically against his, making Eon twist unhappily in his lap, eyes burning with a furious magenta glow.
"I'm sorry." Paradox kissed his face the way he secretly liked. "It's ordinarily not like this, I promise. You've just caught me unusually underprepared, so it might hurt a little bit."
"As if you could ever hurt me." Eon narrowed his eyes at the insinuation he could be hurt by this of all things. But he was lying to him. It did hurt, just not like the bruising blows of battle. This pleasant pain was charged with sexual exploration, leaving an electric tingle that jolted through his system when Paradox bucked his hips upward in just the right way.
Paradox pursed his lips disbelievingly but allowed him to keep his pride. He rocked his hips, spindly fingers running up and down his sides lovingly—first tracing the skin of his hips and then leaving a burning trail to his ribs. Occasionally, he surprised Eon with a new kiss to a random part of his face: the tip of his nose, both of his eyelids, but his favorite spot seemed to be on the forehead.
Every sweet thrust sparked a new stab of hurt that fizzled out and left pleasant static crawling through his nerves. Struggling to keep his breathing even and stop his body from trembling, he gripped tightly onto the backs of Paradox's sturdy shoulders, briefly overcome with the genuine guilt of deja vu when he remembered carving into his spine. Before he could feel too bad for too long, Paradox would quickly kiss him again or thrust into him harder, and he would immediately forget his previous thought.
"I know you know what I inscribed into your helmet," Paradox's pace became even slower, searing—unrelentingly and cruelly unhurried despite Eon's jerky, pleading movements over him. Encouraging the erratic vault of his hips again and again, his thumbs rubbed deeply into the hollows of Eon's hips.
"You didn't need me to tell you that much. So what is it that you really wanted to hear?"
Eon's hands involuntarily began fizzling with violet light where they clutched at his back. Animalistic whines vibrated but died in his chest.
"How you are my one and only?" Paradox's lips were at his ear, nearly purring the words into the pale skin of his jaw, leaving another one of his cool kisses to tingle on his skin. Eon choked on another one of his cries, suppressing them between bitten lips.
"Eon, you are my one and only Eon."