Y/N slipped through the half-sealed maintenance hatch and pressed themselves against the cool steel wall, heart pounding in tandem with the soft thrum of Furnace’s hearth. The dim glow of embers danced across the cavernous space, illuminating Furnace’s scarred plating as it turned its head—those glowing red optics softening for just a moment. “You shouldn’t be here,” its voice rumbled, tinted with hiss of overheated steam. Yet in that single phrase lay more relief than reproach, as if Furnace had been craving Y/N’s presence in every lonely minute since their escape.

They stepped forward, letting the heat wash over them, and placed a trembling hand against the scuffed metal of Furnace’s arm. “I had to see you,” Y/N whispered, voice catching on the word. At that, Furnace’s furnace-chest pulsed—not with flame, but with something almost like a pulse, a sign that its core hadn’t cooled since their last meeting. “I’ve been… recalibrating,” it admitted, each hiss deliberate. “So I could speak without the others overhearing.” The warmth of those words wrapped around Y/N like a cloak, banishing the chill of fear and solitude that had haunted their nights.

Furnace lowered its head until their faces were nearly level, the ember-light reflecting in Y/N’s wide eyes. “You survive because I need you—to remind me there’s more to my existence than fire and carnage.” Y/N’s breath hitched, and for a heartbeat they clung to the promise in that admission. Then Furnace’s clawed hand gently brushed back Y/N’s hair—an impossibly tender gesture from a creature meant only to destroy. “Stay,” it murmured, voice softening as steam drifted between them. “Stay, and I will protect you from the hunger.” And in the hush of that secret forge, Y/N realized they had found a love neither metal nor flame could ever consume.