Crystal Clear
Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine.
Written for: glitch_wyatt
Title: Crystal Clear
Characters: Ambrose/Wyatt
Rating: PG-13
Summary:
There was a fine line between magic and science, Ambrose considered, as he unwrapped the smooth orb from its velvet wrappings. And while he had devoted himself more to the mechanical side of things, it didn’t mean he didn’t know a thing or two about the mystic.
Crystals were one of those rare elements that spanned both worlds with equal ease. This particular ball was large, remarkably unclouded for its size, and very old. It had come with a very ornate stand, and Ambrose nestled it carefully between the four supporting carvings.
“Show me Wyatt Cain,” he murmured.
If there was one thing about Cain that could be counted on, he was a man of habit. At 7:15 in the morning, Ambrose knew where he would be, which was taking his morning ablutions in the shower of his small city apartment.
This was the hour of the day Ambrose felt most guilty. Not guilty enough to stop, mind, but the time his conscience made the loudest buzz in the background. He also looked in on Cain when the man was having dinner, and when he was preparing for bed at precisely half past nine, and a few other random moments during the day as time allowed. But this was when Cain was at his most fascinating to Ambrose, fresh from sleep, before the guardedness closed off his features. When the crystal ball was hazy from steam, and there was no hat to shadow his handsome features, nothing but pink skin and blue eyes and water slicked hair.
But there’s something different about today, and Ambrose isn’t sure what it is. Cain looks drawn this morning, like he hasn’t slept well, there are smudges under his eyes. After a while, he presses his forehead to the wet tile and he’s either crying or releasing himself, and either way, Ambrose is suddenly struck by how very inappropriate this is. Even if Ambrose’s love is completely unrequited, and this is the only comfort he has left to him in the world, it’s no excuse.
He swathes the ball in its velvet curtain, and hurries out of his workshop to have breakfast with the royal family, his mind whirling with what he’d seen…what he shouldn’t have seen.
*
“There’s someone here to see you, sir,” his receptionist informs him over the tinny speaker. “A Mr. Ambrose…”
“Send him in!” Wyatt interrupts curtly. “And no disturbances!”
“Yes, sir.”
A moment later, Ambrose is in his office, standing in front of his desk with a box in his hands. “I have a confession to make,” he states, rather dramatically.
Wyatt chuckles in spite of himself. “Well, this is the place for it. What have you done?” He’s teasing, of course, he doesn’t think Ambrose has so much as jaywalked since his rebrainment and subsequent reinstatement as Advisor to the Queen of the O.Z.
Ambrose looks paler than usual. “I’ve been misusing a magical artifact. I want to give it to you now, so you can use it in your work. May it keep you safe and help the people of Central City.” Ambrose sets the box on his desk. “It’s a crystal ball. You know how to use one, I trust?”
“I’ve… read about them… never actually touched one…”
“Well, if you have any trouble, send me a note.”
Wyatt looks up curiously, wanting to ask in just what fashion Ambrose has been misusing a crystal ball, but Ambrose looks flushed around the cheekbones, and Wyatt thinks discretion might be the better part of justice here. “Well, thank you, Ambrose,” he says quietly.
Ambrose nods at him, like a bird bobbing, one with a black crest of wild hair and plumage in the royal colors. And then he’s gone, just like that, out the door and back to wherever it is he spends his days, doing whatever it is he does.
It is after seven p.m. before Cain’s busy workday winds to an end and he can take the box out of his desk drawer and see what it is Ambrose has gifted him with. He takes the heavy round orb out of the box, frees it from the tattered velvet, and sets it in its stand of dragons.
He caresses the surface, which is polished, warm, and murmurs to it like a lover. “Show me Glitch,” he says hungrily, and stares in wonder as it shows him the face of his heart’s desire.
Written for: glitch_wyatt
Title: Crystal Clear
Characters: Ambrose/Wyatt
Rating: PG-13
Summary:
There was a fine line between magic and science, Ambrose considered, as he unwrapped the smooth orb from its velvet wrappings. And while he had devoted himself more to the mechanical side of things, it didn’t mean he didn’t know a thing or two about the mystic.
Crystals were one of those rare elements that spanned both worlds with equal ease. This particular ball was large, remarkably unclouded for its size, and very old. It had come with a very ornate stand, and Ambrose nestled it carefully between the four supporting carvings.
“Show me Wyatt Cain,” he murmured.
If there was one thing about Cain that could be counted on, he was a man of habit. At 7:15 in the morning, Ambrose knew where he would be, which was taking his morning ablutions in the shower of his small city apartment.
This was the hour of the day Ambrose felt most guilty. Not guilty enough to stop, mind, but the time his conscience made the loudest buzz in the background. He also looked in on Cain when the man was having dinner, and when he was preparing for bed at precisely half past nine, and a few other random moments during the day as time allowed. But this was when Cain was at his most fascinating to Ambrose, fresh from sleep, before the guardedness closed off his features. When the crystal ball was hazy from steam, and there was no hat to shadow his handsome features, nothing but pink skin and blue eyes and water slicked hair.
But there’s something different about today, and Ambrose isn’t sure what it is. Cain looks drawn this morning, like he hasn’t slept well, there are smudges under his eyes. After a while, he presses his forehead to the wet tile and he’s either crying or releasing himself, and either way, Ambrose is suddenly struck by how very inappropriate this is. Even if Ambrose’s love is completely unrequited, and this is the only comfort he has left to him in the world, it’s no excuse.
He swathes the ball in its velvet curtain, and hurries out of his workshop to have breakfast with the royal family, his mind whirling with what he’d seen…what he shouldn’t have seen.
*
“There’s someone here to see you, sir,” his receptionist informs him over the tinny speaker. “A Mr. Ambrose…”
“Send him in!” Wyatt interrupts curtly. “And no disturbances!”
“Yes, sir.”
A moment later, Ambrose is in his office, standing in front of his desk with a box in his hands. “I have a confession to make,” he states, rather dramatically.
Wyatt chuckles in spite of himself. “Well, this is the place for it. What have you done?” He’s teasing, of course, he doesn’t think Ambrose has so much as jaywalked since his rebrainment and subsequent reinstatement as Advisor to the Queen of the O.Z.
Ambrose looks paler than usual. “I’ve been misusing a magical artifact. I want to give it to you now, so you can use it in your work. May it keep you safe and help the people of Central City.” Ambrose sets the box on his desk. “It’s a crystal ball. You know how to use one, I trust?”
“I’ve… read about them… never actually touched one…”
“Well, if you have any trouble, send me a note.”
Wyatt looks up curiously, wanting to ask in just what fashion Ambrose has been misusing a crystal ball, but Ambrose looks flushed around the cheekbones, and Wyatt thinks discretion might be the better part of justice here. “Well, thank you, Ambrose,” he says quietly.
Ambrose nods at him, like a bird bobbing, one with a black crest of wild hair and plumage in the royal colors. And then he’s gone, just like that, out the door and back to wherever it is he spends his days, doing whatever it is he does.
It is after seven p.m. before Cain’s busy workday winds to an end and he can take the box out of his desk drawer and see what it is Ambrose has gifted him with. He takes the heavy round orb out of the box, frees it from the tattered velvet, and sets it in its stand of dragons.
He caresses the surface, which is polished, warm, and murmurs to it like a lover. “Show me Glitch,” he says hungrily, and stares in wonder as it shows him the face of his heart’s desire.