"it's not the same, dude."

noah tugs him further into the depths of the bath house. with every passing room and stretch of stone hallway, he scans for floating usernames. around them, the steady rush of hot spring water pours from stone slowpoke mouths.

"like, what's better than a real bath? a bath in virtual reality." noah speaks loosely and without care of what slips out of his own fountain.

he eventually finds an empty room that is suitable in distance. it's quiet here, save for the running water. kyle's tugging eventually passes the threshold, and noah turns.

"i just want some alone time with you. that's enough to be excited about, yeah?" he says. "now unequip, king lopez! you can keep the crown though, that's pretty cool."

kyle lopez

"a cape? that's wild, man." noah punches the other's arm. "you pull it off, so we'll allow that to stay."

he laughs as he picks the items off of his equipment menu. the sheathed sword is the last article to be removed. finally, his avatar looks like what it once was in the character customization scene.

"guess i'll let myself be bossed around by a king... so, nicest thing?" noah is swift to deliberate. above his head, a fluffy hat appears as his hand-me-down crown.

the steam of the bathhouse lingers by their legs in exaggerated, low-hanging clouds.

kyle lopez

"hey!" as his head dips, noah swipes at kyle with a playful claw.

worried he'd slip on the damp bath floor, noah grabs onto kyle's avatar as the mantle flows behind them. a memory surfaces in rose. briefly, he's caught by the chill of that winter, and the warmth found within one fateful outpost.

"back rubs... did you know? my uncle works at macros cosmos games." noah says, "i'll ask them to add a massage system, man. no problem."

his sarcasm is flavoured by his bravado which carries from his exaggerated performance. but noah reels it in upon kyle's request. he leans into the other and wraps his arms around him.

"sure. do you want me to call you king lopez?" noah asks. "what's the first decree, your highness?" he rocks the other back and forth, stirring the wisps of steam around them in fleeting eddies.

kyle lopez

noah snorts, half-intrigued and half-surprised at the prospect. now, he catches on quick to kyle's sense of humour—like extracting the proper stitch from a smirking sewing circle. and as if pulling thread, the embroidery unravels into confusion.

he cherishes that unfurling. wonders who else can so intimately witness the unwrapping of superstardom within the ridiculous setting of some virtual reality land's bath.


"you don't like my usual nicknames," noah chuckles. his voice tapers off as the menu's tabs roll to their limit. "hm, aight. but you gotta promise it's not like, walking the mightyenas again."

noah drinks his fill of kyle's eyes and releases him. his hat stares back in turn, perpetually smiling in that doggy way.

kyle lopez

noah's eyes rise to full spheres. he freezes as if his brain is attempting to catch up with linguistic understanding. he reaches for kyle, his mouth parting to catch him with even one syllable of clarification— but he's gone. the drama of a sudden logout is jarring.

he finds himself alone in the bathhouse. the only companionship comes from the sounds of rushing spring water. as his breath hastens from imaginings of what's to come, noah exercises a brief patience. quietly, he directs a leg toward the pool and...

tests the water. he finds it too hot and promptly logs off.

kyle lopez