"Hah! And that's a feint for you!"

Seungyoun lunged at Wooyoung with his sword outstretched. In perfect form, his body followed and twisted his outstretched arm forwards.

Wooyoung parried his hit in the last second and dodged right. As Seungyoun adjusted to the new movement, Wooyoung ripped his sword around to the man's left unprotected side. Harmless, his dull tip dug into the thick fabric of Seungyoun's suit.

Both of them sprung back. Wooyoung stood in position with one hand behind his back and his sword stretched out at his side. When Seungyoun suspiciously lifted his mask to check the indent Wooyoung's weapon had made in the fabric of his jacket, his lips pursed.

"Wrong, that's a feint for you," Wooyoung corrected him with an angelic grin. The surprise in Seungyoun's eyes was worth every drop of sweat.

"You're good at this. One day you might be better at it than I." With a dreamy sigh, Seungyoun pulled his helmet off entirely. His sweaty hair stuck to his forehead.

Wooyoung dropped his position to join him for a water break on the bench. Seungyoun wiped his sweat off with his towel while he checked his phone.

"When did you say you want to leave? It's been a week. I expected you to set one foot into the institute to readjust the coordinates before you ran off into your immortal's arms again," Seungyoun said in mock shock. Wooyoung grinned at him.

"I have something to do in between. Figured it would be a good idea to brush up on my fighting skills, too. Not that I don't fall into San's shadow every time, but this is my time to shine."

Wooyoung's favourite era of his studies had been Victorian England. He adored the etiquette, the fashion, and the dreamy movies that came out of it. Usually, San was so charming that Wooyoung could only stare at his glow. This time, he wanted to woo San as well. As long as the man let him and didn't turn the tables on him again by being even more alluring.

"Yongguk suggested I go with you and stick around nearby to finish my report on nonsensical Victorian healing methods. I told him I would rather go once you're back. I don't need to torture my poor eyes with the sight of you being all lovey-dovey with that dude."

"If you say it like that, it sounds as if you are jealous," Wooyoung teased back. His giggle ended in a squeal when Seungyoun whipped his sweat-stained towel at Wooyoung.

"So you will tell him there? To come here?"

Wooyoung nodded nervously. He had been up these past few nights thinking about it. The idea of meeting San as an equal after so long and going on a casual date with him had his heart gallop with excitement. Yet he worried. What if San changed his opinion, after all? What if he found something more important to do that kept him busy until Wooyoung was old and grey? What if he couldn't be there until their age difference (look-wise) made it awkward?

Now that the goal was so near, Wooyoung was overcome with insecurity. It felt too good to be true; as if Wooyoung getting hit by a bolt of lightning was more likely than San actually showing up.

Sometimes when those thoughts deteriorated too much in his sleep-addled brain, he feared what would happen if San never showed up at all and Wooyoung looked like a madman in front of his colleagues.

"I will, yes. I plan to leave London after two weeks and then give him another two weeks to show up here." Until then, Wooyoung hopefully would have prepared enough and be confident in meeting San in his time. Not that he wouldn't spend every minute in distress until the man embraced him again.

"So you could be home during Christmas. If we don't bother Yongguk that day, he will rot away in his room again. Remember it." Seungyoun glanced out of the window. It hadn't snowed yet, but the days were cold and grey. Like every year, they hoped for some snow on Christmas at least.

Wooyoung nodded.

"Yongguk also suggested I meet him in between after the World Wars. Just for a day or two. That time was very rough, and if San sticks around in Europe in the meantime, he might be off mentally afterwards. Yongguk suggested I make sure San gets the healing time he needs before he shows up."

Seungyoun nodded wisely. None of them gave better advice and considered more details than their grumpy boss.

"Good idea. Then I will think about Christmas gifts in the meantime. Is San more into lingerie or sex toys; what do you think? Gotta make use of them when they finally are around. Not that fucking against pillars is boring, but it might be to him after all this time."

Wooyoung grabbed for his sword again and got to his feet. Under his mask, only he knew of his blush.

Seungyoun's nasty giggle conveyed his triumph. He stood as well after capping his bottle back shut and they got into their fencing positions once again. The empty training room around them carried the noise of metal hitting against each other.

"If you will be like this, I won't let you meet him. Then you will be the only loser in our department who never met an immortal," Wooyoung grumbled when he got hit and had to resume the starting position. They didn't have an automatic hit counter hooked up to them, but they were fair in their point adding.

"How haughty. I'm sure if I gift you something like that you will glare at it only for a week before you use it still."

Wooyoung grew redder than a tomato. He slashed at Seungyoun, not to get a hit but to punish the man. Giggling, his friend dodged the harmless sword.

"Concentrate, idiot."

"We talked about presents before. All jokes aside, did you decide on what you want to get him?" Seungyoun's breath grew ragged in his chest when they did some complicated manoeuvres. Together, they panted in the stuffy air. The uniforms clinging to their bodies were stiff and restricted them to the typical movements only.

"Yep. I will dip back to Babylon in a few days and collect a gift for him there. I'm sure he will appreciate it."

Respect swung in Seungyoun's voice when he breathed his reply.

"Way to preserve an item through time, yes. That's a wonderful idea though."

Wooyoung grinned breathlessly. For a moment, they stood pressed against each other in silent wrestling of whose sword would gain the upper hand. Seungyoun sprung back first.

"Thank you."

-

Wooyoung stood in his kitchen and cooked a meal for once. He rarely did this since delivery via drones was so fast and he never had the patience to cook for a long time, only to wolf his food down alone and distracted by some TV show on the side.

He didn't know why he had felt like it so suddenly today. But once his inner cook had taken over the reins, Wooyoung found himself scrolling through recipes from different cultures.

He might as well practise cooking some dish that he could present to San later. A way to a man's heart was through his stomach and Wooyoung would be delighted to serve a phenomenal dinner for their first evening.

And it had to be just right. Nothing too bland since this wasn't the middle ages. But also nothing too heavy in case they planned for certain activities after. Soon, Wooyoung sat on his couch nibbling at his fingernails and wondering whether he should cook San a meal he would be familiar with from the past. Granted, it could not be a delicious as modern meal since some spices would lack and Wooyoung certainly couldn't copy the same flavour alone from what circumstances his ingredients grew in and how clean they were.

But if he could recreate something that San liked, they would probably enjoy the memory aspect of it even more than the actual taste.

Should he try the bread roll he had eaten in Babylon? The simple meal and wine of Rome? Maybe the stew Ljóðey had cooked for them in Norway. Although that one might carry sad memories for San, since he had to let her go.

The middle ages tasted bland, so Wooyoung wouldn't do that.

Ultimately, he found none of the nondescriptive dishes he was looking for. He settled for Arabian traditional food hoping it somehow still carried the taste through the centuries and San would recognise it.

As Wooyoung went shopping, his head hung on thoughts about how to accommodate San once he arrived. Since he wouldn't want to mess with Wooyoung's lifetime before their actual meeting time, he might not live in Prague until Wooyoung invited him over. Wooyoung's bed was big, but maybe he should get another pillow until then. These days he also had his eyes on a fake wolf's pelt rug that would match his interior wonderfully well and that would give his home the certain something that reminded him of hours spent in raw emotion at the fireplace in Ljóðey's and San's home.

Wooyoung came back with a pile of food that would hopefully result in Shawarma, a dish similar to the Turkish kebab. It was closest to what he had eaten back on the bazaar in Babylon before meeting Mingi.

With his head in the clouds about interior design, San wearing his hoodies on that scar-decorated and gorgeous body of his, and a cute Babylonian historian that Wooyoung missed very much, Wooyoung cut his vegetables. While he sat at the table, his eyes kept returning to the picture frame to his left. He had preserved the sketch that Leonardo had drawn of him and San behind a sheen of glass. The yellowed parchment showed the two of them in their cosy embrace as they shared their break. Whenever Wooyoung saw it, a soft smile spread on his lips.

Would it be wise to take pictures with San? Wooyoung wanted to remember him, but San should probably not show up too much if he wanted to stay relatively undercover for as long as possible. After all, he hadn't made himself a big name in the present time, wherever he was currently. His chances of becoming a popular billionaire had been high, but he seemed to avoid the public eye even when the government had to know by now who he was.

Wooyoung tucked his tongue between his teeth when he piled all of his food into the bread and rolled it up before something could fall out. It wasn't the prettiest he had ever done, but it smelled about right.

As he tasted it, he found it unsatisfactory still. For half an hour, he scrolled around the internet trying to find out which spices were used in Babylon that could cause the missing taste. When he finally found the right one and added it, he was happy with the result. This was something he could cook for San.

Wooyoung ate the rest of his by now cold meal and did the dishes. Before he went to bed, he glanced at their sketch once more.

His heart was full of adoration for San when he laid down and cradled his pillow close. Wooyoung had got so used to having a body behind him or to cling onto that he felt weird sleeping alone now. December was cold, so he wished for San's heated body and a fireplace to warm him.

Happy in his daydreams, Wooyoung huddled under the covers. In three or four days, he would go to London and meet San there. As distinguished gentlemen, hopefully, in pretty suit vests and elegant carriages.

Wooyoung sighed dreamily.

He should probably think about his work more.

Huffing over having ruined his own mood, Wooyoung turned around and pulled the blanket up to his chin. He already knew that he would have to listen to one of Yongguk's long speeches tomorrow. And he looked forward to ending this job and the prospect of success, even if it wasn't immediate.

But more than that, Wooyoung just wanted to spend time with his lover. He made no secret out of it and Yongguk didn't mind it either. The result was the same. They would meet in London, team up once more to find clues about immortality and then finally, after over two thousand years, meet in Wooyoung's flat to have a simple dinner together like a normal couple.

Wooyoung fell asleep with his head full of ideas of dates he could go with San on once more. If the other man had time, they should definitely visit that street in Florence again and retrace their steps. That would be a beautiful idea.