Loyalty
I fully blame @miialona for making me think about them and write about them and turn them over in my mind. Sometimes one dude saving another dude from death row so said murderer can help him make a game is valid, actually.
Also there’s something about digging into a new rarepair that makes my little heart happy.
Anyway, hope you enjoy!
Razor tumbled through the dirt and grass until he finally came to rest at the base of a tree, surrounded by red poppies.
He looked up at his assailant; a short man around his age with black, spiky hair and golden brown eyes.
“I caught you,” he said with a grin. “Told ya I would.”
“So you did,” Razor said with a sideways smile. “Didn’t expect you to hit so hard.”
“It’s what you get for underestimating me,” the man said as he took a seat next to Razor. “Name’s Ging Freecss.”
Razor righted himself. “Nice to meet you, Ging. Now that you’ve caught me, I’d like to ask a favor.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Ging said as he plucked a poppy and twirled the stem in his hand. He tucked an arm behind him and leaned back against the trunk.
“Instead of taking me back to prison…would you kill me? I’d rather die out here knowing I was free, even for a little while. They’ll still pay you full price for me.”
“Nope,” Ging answered immediately. “I’m not taking you back.”
“You’re not after the bounty?” Razor asked, voice dripping with skepticism.
“I don’t need money. I need you, Razor.”
Razor wanted to laugh until his throat hurt. No one had ever needed him. Not his no-good, alcoholic dad, not the mom who’d walked out before Razor could even remember her face.
No one.
“You don’t believe me?” His brown eyes looked up at Razor with a steady gaze. No trace of doubt or fear.
I wish I could think of some poem or fancy word to compare his eyes to, Razor thought. Shoulda paid better attention in class. Maybe read a book or something.
“Course I don’t,” Razor said as he looked up at the drifting clouds. “People like me exist as a warning. You know, don’t cut class or you’ll end up like that guy. Eighteen and on death row.”
“See, I don’t believe that. I read your story, and I think–”
You’re criminal scum, worthy of doing my dirty work, Razor finished in his mind.
“–with some respect, and like…I dunno, something to do that’s not rotting in a cell, you could be a good person.”
“I must’ve misheard you,” Razor said. “Did you just tell me I could be a good person?”
“Yup,” Ging replied.
Razor did laugh this time; long and hearty until his breath came in fits of wheezing. “I…man. I’ve met a lot of weirdos but you…you take the cake!”
“So you’ll join me?” Ging asked.
“Yeah, sure. What the hell, it’s not like I’ve got anything else going on…”
—
Razor stared into the fire and finished off his beer. He crushed the can flat on a nearby tree stump and tossed it into an ever-growing pile. Pulled another one from the cooler and cracked it open.
He was nowhere near drunk, but starting to feel a bit tipsy. Thoughts he normally kept to himself lurked beneath the surface. Everyone was in a jovial mood, celebrating the completion of a big part of the game. They were all nice to him, of course, and Razor didn't mind the team, it was just…
"Hey! Why so glum, chum?" Ging laughed a bit at his own joke as he took a seat next to Razor.
"I'm not," he replied as he took another drink. "Thinking is all."
Ging sidled up to Razor. "About? A special girl? A special guy?"
Now's better than never, I suppose.
"You," Razor said.
Ging tilted his head and grinned. He looked at the dregs in his red plastic cup and dumped it into the fire. It turned bright blue and settled back into the orange red it had before.
"Well." Ging said as he stood to his feet and dusted himself off.
"Well?" Razor raised an eyebrow.
"You want me, and I want you so…you want to do something about it?"
"You're–" Razor tried to finish his sentence, but then Ging was on his lap, and Ging's lips tasted of beer and he smelled like smoke and soap. The beer tumbled out of his hand and rolled off into the dirt.
"You were saying?"
"Fuck it. I forgot." Razor pulled Ging against him and kissed him again.
"Get a room!" List shouted, to the cheers and jeers of the rest of the group.
"You heard 'em—whoa!"
Razor laughed as he picked Ging up and carried him bridal style.
"Aw, are you blushing?" Razor teased.
"No! I've just…never had someone pick me up like that. Am I even heavy to you?"
"Not at all," he replied. "I'll do it anytime you want."
"I didn't say I liked it," Ging grumbled.
"But you haven't said you don't like it either…"
—
"Hey."
Razor turned to Ging.
"I hate to ruin the afterglow but…" Ging scrubbed a hand through his hair and leaned back against the headboard. "I can't…I won't…do the thing where I stay with one person forever. I should've explained it before we…you know."
Razor shrugged.
"I understand. You mean a lot to me, but I'd never try to tie you down."
Ging was quiet for a moment. He traced the curve of Razor's bicep with a light touch. "Thanks. You mean a lot to me too."
Razor took a hold of Ging's forearm. He knew he didn't have to be gentle, Ging was the furthest thing from fragile, but…
"No taking it easy on me," Ging said, brown eyes sparkling.
"Amber," Razor said.
"Huh?"
"I…how do I explain this without sounding dumb…"
"You just explain it," Ging said plainly.
"Oh. When we first met, I couldn't think of something to compare your eyes to. But the stuff you showed me on the trees, with the bugs in it? That's the color. Amber."
Ging snorted and laughed. "If I was anyone else I might take offense. But I choose to accept your compliment for what it is. Sincere and heartfelt. And sappy in more ways than one."
Something turned in Razor's chest. So this is what it's like for someone to care. For someone to understand.
He pulled Ging to him with a sigh. "Gonna have to punish you for turning my heartfelt sentiments into another one of your dumb jokes."
Ging grinned. "Do I get to pick? Can you suffocate me in your pecs? Kiss me until I–augh!"
They tumbled out of bed in a tangle of sheets and pillows.
"Oof, I felt that in my tailbone," Ging said.
Razor chuckled.
"Stop laughing, I don't have the same amount of cushion as you do!" Ging said as he smacked Razor with a pillow.
"Cushion? I work very hard to have an ass this nice."
"I know, I watch you sometimes." The alarm clock had fallen down with them. Ging looked at the time. "Aw hell, we have a meeting in half an hour. Guess we should get ready."
"Or…"
"Or?" Ging looked at Razor, head tilted.
"How much do you actually care about being on time?"
Ging laughed. "I take it on a case by case basis and in this case…I don't give a shit."
—
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