To celebrate, here's how you and Sylus met in the airport AU
Again, this is first and foremost a silly au, and alsjdhfsdjfkl i did NOT intend this to reach 3.4k words sob this is practically a fic 😂
divider by @/saradika
You're in your senior year in university, just a few months shy of your graduation. In one of your courses, you're required to do your internship abroad for a month. You're hard at work performing well in your internship and yay! Your supervisors love you! They want you to work with them after you graduate! Your classmate and co-trainee are excited with this good news.
As your internship wraps up, you and your classmate ready your things to go home. Suitcases done! Souvenir shopping done! Last-minute visits to tourist spots done! Etc. etc. Just as you fall in line the immigration departure counters, your internship supervisor contacts you and tells you that your certification of completion has an error and that you had to pick the correct one in person. Panicked, you tell your classmate to go ahead, assuring her that since she and you came early, there's still time to take care of this mishap and get back before boarding closes.
You rush to the company like a cheetah on steroids and fortunately the correct version of the certificate is already prepared! Your supervisor is very apologetic about this and kindly offered to buy you a flight ticket home if you didn't make it in time. You check your watch and jokingly say there's still time if your cabbie is willing to commit ten traffic violations.
It seems like you'll make it—but of course this is the moment when shit goes down. In the distance a massive traffic unfurls from the road, vehicles unmoving. A trail of smoke rises up a little farther than that. Your heart trips and falls of a cliff and you wail a NOOO, shocking your driver into mumbling a prayer.
You're so close! You're not gonna make it. Out of desperation, you pay the cab and run your way to the airport instead. As you reach the part where traffic begins and the smoke is more evident (the fire's already been put out), you find that there's a vehicular accident involving two container trucks, occupying all the lanes. You peer around and find the drivers huddled to the side, very confused and stressed out but thankfully uninjured. Everybody's waiting for help to move the trucks, but you're not that patient, so you jog around the area—when somebody whisks you and an explosion rattles the immediate vicinity.
Everybody devolves into panic again, and some spectators run away. Vehicles nearest to the accident are hit and scratched by the debris, and one catches you by your cheek. You look down and you realize that you're being carried by a large man with a leather jacket, helmet hiding his head.
Once you're both at a significant distance away from the accident, he puts you down (curtly but still gently lol) and you're ready to scream at him when he takes off his helmet—
Ah.
You falter.
Ahhhh
The man watches you with a little wariness but also with obvious amusement, as if he's observing a kitty ready to pounce at him.
In your head you're screaming, Oh my god, OH MY GOD????? Who is this intimidating yet undeniably gorgeous man in front of you? Did he actually protect you from the explosion? Is he your hero?
Then he raises an eyebrow (perfectly arched) and speaks:
“You keep opening and closing your mouth. Do you want to say something to me?”
A tiny part of you notices how he's speaking in your native language, but that is eclipsed by the overwhelming return of your awareness to your situation and promptly you burst into tears, catching him off guard.
You cry, “I should've accepted my supervisor's offer. I'll never get home ever again!”
Weeks later, in the comforts of your home, you'll look back at this memory and groan in mortification. You were so dramatic lmao. But right now for you it feels like it's the end of the world.
And then, you register the sting on your cheek. You wipe it with your hand and blood comes away with it. Then your sobbing gets worse. “Now I'm going to die too!”
You hear a snort and you turn your head to see Tall, Gorgeous, and Intimidating sighing and shaking his head. He angles his chin, gesturing at you.
“Get a handkerchief for that. I'll take you to a hospital.”
Then he walks over to a—you finally just notice—huge motorcycle.
Then you blurt, “Oh my god, you're a criminal.” It now makes sense. He's intimidating, gorgeous, intimidatingly gorgeous, gorgeously intimidating. And you've seen enough action movies to associate that kind of motorcycle with hot criminal villains.
He halts at that, and sends you an unimpressed glare.
“Does your judgment get impaired that quick with just a little blood loss?”
A little chastised, you bow your head and look for a handkerchief in your backpack.
At the ER, a nurse cheerfully patches you up and pats your shoulder. “There we go! Thankfully the cut was not deep, and if you keep applying the ointment as prescribed, then it won't scar!”
Then she glances furtively at Sylus (after he bullied you into getting onto the motorcycle with him you said, “If you're not a criminal, then what are you?” “Sylus.” “Huh???”), and then leaning closer to you she whispers, “You're not buried in debt, are you?”
You blink. “I'm sorry?”
Another stealthy glance at Sylus. “Here, loan sharks usually keep their victims on a tight leash, lest they run away. He didn't threaten you, did he?”
You stare at the nurse, who looks so serious. Then you look at Sylus, who's talking with another nurse and speaking in their local language.
You return to your nurse and smile at her reassuringly, “Oh no! He's actually the one who saved me from danger. There's no need to worry.”
When you're released from the ER, you regroup with Sylus at the hospital entrance (he insisted to take care of any expenses, which you argued with him about, but then he threatened you into capitulating).
“I have to message my family and friends about my situation,” you tell him. “I'll have to ask my classmate to retrieve my bags for me, and then ask Grandma to buy another flight ticket.”
Sylus is texting something on his phone. A few seconds later he pockets it and turns to you. “There's no need, kitten. I'll fly back to Linkon tonight. I'll take you with me, free of charge.”
You stare at him in disbelief. He chuckles.
“On second thought, an expression of gratitude would be most welcome.”
“Why?” You shake your head. “I mean, you've already done so much. And 'free of charge'? What's the catch? Am I being kidnapped?” A pause, and then: “Also, did you just call me kitten?”
He shrugs. “Cautious—I like that. As for the catch? Well …” A slow smirk appears on his lips; you try your best not to get distracted by it. “You will have to endure my company for the rest of the day. You won't get a better deal than that.”
Sylus just stands there, taking your intense scrutiny with a smirk on his face. When you're done with your serious internal deliberation, he takes out his phone again and swipes at length.
“Finished arguing with yourself?”
“If I ended up getting featured in an unsolved crime documentary …”
Sylus rolls his eyes.
“Since we still have plenty of hours left, you have no choice but to follow me wherever I go.”
“I'm good, I can just head to the airport now and wait for you ther—”
“That's not the deal we agreed to.”
“Huh? Wait, no, I didn't agree to such deal—”
Surprisingly he leads you to a park where an ice cream truck is stationed. He buys you a cone and you, baffled, accept the offer. You two stroll around the park, with you letting him walk two paces ahead until he pauses and turns around, conveying with his eyebrows what he thinks about the thing you're doing right now. Chastised yet again, you hurry until you and he are walking side by side.
After that strange park stroll, Sylus goes to a museum (free entrance), and you follow him perusing all the artwork and historical artifacts. He lingers at the areas you take interest in (you don't notice him doing it).
By the time you're led to a restaurant for (late) lunch, you voice out what bothers you.
“Why does this feel like a date?”
An unimpressed stare.
“We just met,” says Sylus.
“I know! But that park—”
“I was craving ice cream.” (He didn't buy an ice cream for himself.)
“—and then that museum—”
“I have a longstanding interest in the arts and history.”
“—and now this restaurant! How else should I interpret it?”
“I'm hungry.”
You squint at him. “… Or is this you babysitting me?”
Sylus sighs. “Just order your meal.”
He informs you that you still have a couple of hours before going to the airport, and since it has come to this, you tell him that there's a place that you want to go, if he doesn't mind.
“Sure,” he answers.
That place is the city's skyscraper with an observation deck. You couldn't go before because of time constraints, but now that there's an opportunity, might as well take it. You pay for your ticket and fall in line for the elevator (to your surprise, Sylus is behind you at the queue; when he catches you staring he just shrugs and says, “I like heights”).
You can't contain your excitement upon entering the viewing deck. Despite many people the area is spacious, and you flit around taking in all the view, Sylus sauntering not far behind.
You whip your phone out for some photos, but mostly you try to commit the beautiful skyline to memory. You're leaning forward, hands tight on the railing, wanting to peer at the buildings below, when Sylus parks next to you and remarks, “From the way you're lit up right now, it seems like this is one of your top places to visit here.”
“Yeah, definitely under top three. Maybe second.”
“Why couldn't you go before?”
“Too busy with my internship, and during days off I was just too exhausted to go out. Yesterday was wholly spent on souvenir shopping so I couldn't go either.”
Sylus hums.
“What's your first?”
“Hm?”
“Top place to visit in this city.”
“Oh!” You lean back and turn to Sylus, whose attention is all on you. That, for some reason, sends warmth inside your chest. “Promise not to laugh.”
“Sure.”
“Well it's … the airport.”
At first Sylus does not react, but then slowly, like a cinematic stretched-out moment, a satisfied smile unravels (your heart skips a beat), and he rests his weight against the railing, tilts his head at you.
“How curious. Why the airport?”
You shrug. “I like its design and spaciousness, I guess.”
There's a cafe in the observation deck and you buy a caramel latte for yourself and a drip coffee for him (which you insisted—almost to the point of screaming—in paying for). Sylus takes the cup of coffee with an indulgent smile, and you both resume looking over the skyline in companionable silence.
Before you head to the airport Sylus tells you that he'll stop by his hotel to get his things. When you reach the hotel you look up and your heart trips and falls off a cliff for a second time, because holy shit that's not a hotel—that's a fucking fortress.
You look at him like he just detonated a tower. “Are you sure you're not a criminal?”
Sylus ignores you.
At the lobby, a bellhop passes by and asks you if you like any drinks, and you try your best to answer No I'm good thank you with a steady voice, but at the end of your sentence you choke on your own saliva.
That's how Sylus finds you as he walks into the lobby.
“O-On second thought,” you wheeze, “water's goo—”
You turn around and make the fatal mistake of seeing Sylus.
In uniform.
A pilot's uniform.
Sylus. In a pilot uniform.
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“Oh,” you whisper, faint. You pray for sweet, sweet death. “You're a pilot.”
The bellhop rushes to hand you the glass of water and you have half the mind to drown yourself in it.
“I am,” he confirms, and once again you silently beg for the sweet release of death. He steps forward and takes your backpack that's by your chair. He hands it to another bellhop before you can even protest. He turns back to you with an expectant gaze. “Shall we?”
He exchanges his motorcycle with a luxury car and you're no longer pretending that you're not staring at him like he's an alien or something.
(“You're just gonna leave your bike?!”
“Yes.”
“You won't go back for it?”
“Don't worry too much, kitten. I come here often. They'll take care of the bike for me.”
“Don't tell me this car is yours too?”
“Hm.”
“Just how much do you make as a pilot?! I refuse to believe that your pilot salary can afford all these!”
“You underestimate the generosity of my, ah, employer, sweetie.” A pause. “I also sell fruits at the side, by the way.”)
At the airport, he escorts you to the airline ticket office, and upon seeing him the staff behind the counter scrambles for some papers and one of them offers you a printed-out boarding pass. As you take it you note their trembling hands and sweaty palms. Confused, you look to Sylus for answers. He helpfully doesn't give any.
At immigration, the officers are glancing at him every now and then but nothing happens beyond that. He allows you to make a last-minute shopping at the duty free shop, and then as you near the boarding gate, a pair of twins materializes out of thin air, making you jump. Sylus steadies you and glares at the twins, who you realize are wearing flight attendant uniforms.
“Sorry about that, Boss,” says one twin.
To you the other twin says, “Boss is entrusting you to us during the flight, so just relax and follow us.”
To Sylus you say, “Why are they calling you Boss? Shouldn't it be Captain?”
“To Luke and Kieran there's probably not that much of a difference.”
At the boarding gate the rest of the cabin crew sneak nervous glances at you, and you're tempted to ask Luke or Kieran about it.
The temptation resurfaces once you're on your seat and all the cabin crew are huddling at the rear end and muttering what sounds like a mantra. They disperse as if nothing suspicious happened and the twins just grin at you when you ask what was that all about.
Sylus's voice floats out of the speakers to introduce himself and his first officer, then by the end of his standard speech he adds, “Ah, and really tighten your seatbelt, sweetie.”
Somewhere behind you somebody wails despairingly.
You finally understand once the plane takes off.
Sylus flies the plane like he's on a fucking chase. If you thought the way he handled his motorcycle was intense, this is on an entirely another level. The engine noise is loud in a way that you think that the speed of the plane is faster than what is recommended, consistently so.
Like, sure, you love an adrenaline rush every now and then, but this one—this one is not it.
Oh, and turbulence? What's that????
You flag down a wobbling flight attendant and ask her, “Are we truly safe? We're not violating any aviation laws, are we?”
You only get from her a tremulous smile in response.
A couple of passengers utter a similar sentiment, but with a more combative tone. The twins take care of them and after a few tense minutes all is quiet again.
Another nasty turbulence, and you're thinking of drafting your last will and testament.
But fortunately after that, the rest of the flight is smooth, if not particularly swift(er), and you reach your home country forty-five minutes earlier than scheduled, according to the (sobbing) crew.
(You also have to give points to Sylus for that smooth landing, wow.)
Sylus is already waiting by the exit when you disembark, and you boggle at that.
“You're my responsibility until you leave the airport,” he explains.
“I am?”
“I can't let a lost and stranded kitten mewl dejectedly all alone until she gets home.”
“Hey! I wasn't lost—stranded, yes, temporarily, but not lost! Also, stop calling me kitten!”
“As you wish, sweetie.”
Grandma's already at the reception area by the time you emerge from arrival. But before you go to her, you face Sylus, who's waiting for your next move, and take a deep breath.
“Well, Captain Sylus,” you begin, “thanks for taking care of me. If it weren't for you, I would've probably been stranded abroad a little longer. On a serious note, let me pay for the airfare—”
He stops you from finishing that sentence with his index finger. For the third time today, your heart trips and falls off a cliff. By now, one would expect your heart to know how to avoid tripping and falling off a cliff. A triumphant smirk slots into Sylus's expression.
“In case you forgot, we made a deal. But if you really insist … How about this?” The finger leaves and is replaced by a phone. On the screen is your number, saved with the name Kitten.
“H-How did you—”
“Instead of paying for the flight ticket, we'll keep in touch.”
“E-Excuse me???”
“An occasional text here and there. Life updates. Pictures most welcome.”
“Are you crazy?!”
“Significant airfare discounts for as long as I'm employed in this airline.”
At that, you hesitate. Because let's be real: not even you are immune to airfare promos.
When you're quiet for too long, Sylus declares victory. “I'll take that as a yes. See you around, kitten. Invite me to your graduation.”
You're left watching him as he saunters off, and a teensy weensy part of you is grudgingly admiring the line of his body under that (hot!) pilot uniform.
You reunite with Grandma Josephine outside, with her embracing you as soon as you're within her reach. She asks you a sequence of questions concerning your well-being and you answer them positively. Anything in connection with Sylus, however, you keep to yourself.
“So,” Grandma continues, “how did you pay for the flight back?”
“Uhh. My supervisor wanted to compensate me for the inconvenience and offered to book a flight for me.”
“That's very kind of your supervisor.”
“Yeah, haha …”
Later, right before you go to bed, you receive a text. When you open it a sparkly crow emoji greets you. Then immediately, another text follows:
Let me know when you want to visit another country, I'll be glad to fly you there.
Understandably, you fail to sleep that night, your flustered cheeks keeping you up for hours.
Some notes:
If you suspect that Sylus has something to do with the truck accident, then yes, you are correct :) I joke in the original fic that he may be involved in criminal activities WELL THAT'S STILL UP IN THE AIR >.> <.< >.>
He grabbed you to protect you from the explosion, yes, and took care of you because he felt responsible for it, also yes.
You're 22 years old in this, and Sylus is around 5 years older than you.
I can't decide between making Mephisto human in this au or making him a plushie Sylus always brings whenever he flies. He'd place plushie!Mephisto at the cockpit, to his first officer's bafflement. The others would never ask him why, though.
I'm still keeping the airline Sylus works for unnamed for now.
You did not invite Sylus to your graduation, but you swore you saw his silhouette at the periphery.
I still can't get over the fact that, you play ikesen and these beautiful men welcome you with their beautiful faces, and then when you google what they looked like irl they're mostly illustrations of old men with receding hairline 😂
