granted, thereās still spots and holes in aceās memories-- fuzzy visions and grey areas that heās never bothered to dig up. but the persistence of memory is a bitch, and ace does remember a few things. things like ditching classes, like partying, like his first sip of alcohol ( it was, expectedly, disgusting ), things like the older kids he wanted to be around at all times.
he remembers being almost the same height as the other, if only a few centimeters shorter, always taunting the other withĀ āpretty soon iāll be taller than you, munchkin hyung,ā and the swift smack to the head that comment would earn him. remembers trailing after the other like a puppy, remembers trying every single thing he could that he was always told he shouldnāt-- because rebelling felt good.
and though he may not remember everything-- he knows that carnage was never quite like this.
and no matter how hard he tries to keep up the bravado ( itās not even fake or forced, it just slips so easily-- even more so when heās drunk ), the other manages to infuriatingly hit all of his weak points. the substance in his system brings out his expressions much more than theyād normally be seen. and as he feels hands against his neck, his throat, his jaw, feels the soft pad of carnageās thumb rest against his lower lip, his breathing becomes more labored-- harder to keep steady.
his eyes glaze over slightly, mouth parting further and going slack. and in this moment, ace feels all of fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, years old again-- looking for some adrenaline, for a place to fit in-- naive and young and impressionable.
but if anything snaps him out of that odd trance, if anything can get his blood boiling even further-- carnage opening his mouth does the trick. thereās a beat of dead silence before his voice comes out soft, low, and even, āi aināt scared of shit and,ā and his hand reaches to knock carnageās away from his mouth before both hands curl into the front of his shirt like an anchor-- unforgiving.Ā
āiām not yours. fuckinĀ asshole.ā
and then he tugs, dragging carnage down and crashing their lips together-- no preemptive thinking, no fanfare. one hand lets go of his shirt to slide up, to curl his slender fingers into unruly strands of black hair. and itās messy and tactless, the clashing of teeth, the way ace roughly melds his lips against the elderās as his fist bunches up the fabric of his shirt even further.
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carnage is a greedy man, and he doesnāt hesitate to let his eyes trace and follow from his position above the other. itās such a power trip, to be in such a stance. he feels as though he has entire control of the situationā and perhaps he does, with aceās intoxicated state. if carnage were any more respectable, any more humaneā he might have done the right thing, like send ace on his way back. perhaps got him into his bed (alone, alone, alone) and asleep. he wouldnāt provoke, take advantage of the situation like heās prone and wanting to do.
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Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā tw: sexual themes
ace is suddenly torn between too drunk for thisĀ and not drunk enough.
or at least, thatās his thought process as carnage pretty much eliminates any and all possible space between them. and the angry red haze of his mind has dissipated, not as hateful, but now-- heās definitely even more on edge than before. he almost thinks the irrational anger better suits him. but heās staring at carnage now-- the way he is staring at him-- that glint in his eyes that may have been there before but that heād never noticed. the way he grins at him-- sweet and unassuming, all teeth. but ace knew better.Ā
and the spite in his own eyes still there but muted, quieter. his mouth is slack, and his throat is suddenly the driest itās been all night.
his senses are all way too heightened right now-- even with the drunk fog that still clouds his brain. he always did better with adrenaline rushing through his veins. and the slightest of touch-- just the brushing of their noses together has aceās entire body tensing up. heād rushed in here just looking to let off his steam with some cursing that would maybe turn into fists flying but this. this. with carnage. was uncharted territory and ace is thrown for a loop, once again, by this man.
he hatesĀ Ā the way his breathing stutters when he feels theghost of his hands, trailing up and down. hates the way he has to choke back a startled noise as they sneak under his shirt, turning warmer with each second theyāre in contact with his heated skin. and itās way too gentle for what he knows the older male is capable of-- heās caught off guard. almost of their own accord, his hands creep up and curl into the sides of carnageās shirt, forming fists as he clenches at the fabric.
and ace goes practically cross-eyed as carnage leans in as close as possible, and his round eyes enlarge-- wider than theyād been all night, lips still parted as his brain is trying to catch up and process everything thatās just happened in the last few moments. but his eyes narrow again, everything seeming to rush back all at once as if heād been underwater and he just kicked his way up to the surface. and suddenly everything is hyper-sharp, like carnageās blunt nails biting into his skin.
any notion of a challenge and heās instantly riled up-- and sober ace would recognize this. sober ace would recognize the otherās got him right where he wants him-- that heās playing right into his whims.
but intoxicated ace--
intoxicated ace grabs at the back of carnageās shirt, his other hand flying up to press against the back of the elderās neck, his eyes flashing. his lips curl into that familiar crooked smirk of his-- the one he uses to provoke a reaction. and his true nature kicks in, the natural urge to taunt, and to challenge, and to defy.Ā āand why the fuck should i do that, huh? why donāt you make me... hyung,ā he sneers, eyes lidded again, as focused as they can get in his current state-- and their breaths mingling, his fingers brushing against the otherās dark locks.
zero nearly chokes on his drink when ace asks, nodding his head so fast it probably came across as too eager. but he didnt care, he was up to do anything with the younger male, heād made that obvious when theyād first agreed to hang out tonight.Ā āyes! lets go.ā he smiled towards ace, climbing up out of his seat and taking aceās hand in his once again.
a playful glare is shot zeroās way-- though his lips tighten into a harmless grimace. he sits up straighter in his stool and puffs out his chest dramatically,Ā āplease, hyung... i drink pretty much every day my tolerance is impenetrable--ā and he deflates twice as fast at the mention of last time, the tips of his ears quickly tinging pink at the nudge and the words as he clears his throat and looks away,Ā ā...okay, we donāt talk about that.ā
as if to prove his point, he takes a big gulp and ignores the sting as it slides down his throat-- whiskeyās not his favorite but. ace being ace... at this point he drinks anything. so they sit in steady silence for a bit as he finishes the rest of his glass, and he sets it on the bar and slides it back towards the bartender, licking his lips. he figures he would wait a bit until he drank anymore-- contrary to popular belief he did know his limits, and wasnāt actually trying to drink away all his problems tonight. ( not that it ever worked, but technicalities. )
and ace canāt help the way his face brightens and his usual crooked grin pulls up into more of a genuine smile, more teeth peeking out, and more curl to the edges of his lips.Ā āyeah, letās go,ā he parrots-- and the warmth of zeroās hand in his is comforting. itās warm and familiar-- and reminds him of his much younger days before even high school-- before everything went left.
he squashes the thoughts down determinedly-- no point dwelling on the past.
so he pulls the older male into the loose throng of dancers, watches the neon lights bounce off of their shirts, the elderās dark hair, his hands, any exposed skin. and when he finds an empty spot, he turns around to face the other-- blinks a bit as he realizes -- he didnāt really plan this far. and he hasnāt been this close in proximity to zero in a long time ( excluding missions ), and is unused to the way he looks down instead of up at his hyung now.
āuh. ....iām a little. rusty,ā he laughs,Ā āyou might have to lead, hyung.ā
lucky lays the paint on thick, filling gaps in the yellow until itās nice and opaque. the pattern is in the shape of a flower, lucky taking care in outlining each individual petal over aceās heart. he gets caught up in it, tongue poking out of his mouth in focus.
ace keeps his eyes trained on the top of luckyās head as he works, mixing his paints. but, he doesnāt look away even when lucky happens to glance up at him, meeting his stare evenly until the gaze breaks agains as lucky returns to his work. and although this is an odd, definitely out of the ordinary hangout activity-- it feels innocently domestic.
ace isnāt too sure how he feels about that.
he pushes the thought to the back of his mind. he takes advantage of lucky not starting yet in order to shift and lean back slightly, cushioning a pillow behind his back to make himself more comfortable. he blinks in surprise at the answer, lips parting slightly, going slack as an instinct reaction as anĀ āoh,ā slips past his lips. part of it is due to the confession, and the other is due to the cool sensation of the paint touching his skin. āyou donāt have to do anything nice for me,ā ace laughs, then remembers to hold as still as possible. he didnāt want to mess up the youngerās hard work.
itās an odd but not unwelcome feeling-- the smooth and oddly gelatinous texture of the paint, and the wait feels as the thick layers start to dry slightly. he finds himself straining to stare down past the bridge of his nose and the top of luckyās head to see the brush sliding over his (mostly) unmarred skin. stares and laughs silently at the way luckyās tongue pokes out in concentration like a kid.Ā
ādid you... paint a lot? before?ā he finds himself asking, his voice a soft rumble breaking the silence in the room.
she pauses for a second, hand falling to the counter and crossing with the other as she leans in.Ā Ā ā so? are you trying to fuck him or not? be straight with me, because i donāt think he knows what heās asking for.āĀ the words that she leaves unsaid still hang in the air.
you know heāll catch feelings.Ā you know him.
ace just offers her a wry grin-- he doesnāt mean it maliciously. heās sure that she knows this. more or less-- sheās the closest thing to family that he has now. considering... he doesnāt have any family left, of course. ( and yeah, maybe heās still bitter. not that it matters. )
he busies himself with heating up hot water and ripping open several bowls of ramen. he leans against the counter, fingers practically digging into the hard surface as he waits for the water to boil. he avoids her gaze at first, but slowly lifts his eyes to meet hers as he wet his lips -- a nervous habit heās never kicked, apparently.
and she dives right into it, he shouldnāt expect any less from her really, but that still doesnāt mean heās ready. and even though she sees right through him-- he keeps his face carefully blank. he bites his lip and stands up straighter, groaning softly.Ā āthatās exactly it-- i donāt think he even knows what heās asking. like...ā he finally meets her eyes,Ā āhe asked me, right? but then he askedĀ me what it actually was. i didnāt think i should be the one to explain--ā he answers honestly, corners of his lips pulling into a slight frown, running a hand through his hair in exasperation.
his lips curl, not menacingly-- a trait of indecision. hesitance.Ā āiām not,ā he says firmly. and itās true--Ā ātrying to. iām not,ā he mutters, ruffling his hair in slight frustration, but his tone remains ever neutral. and his frowns deepen and for all of his bravado, he stands in bombshellās kitchen with his shoulders hunched in, looking small and all of like the teenager he was when he was taken.Ā
āi wouldnāt do that to him.ā
he seems to catch himself and he clears his throat, straightening up and ripping seasoning packets open before grabbing the kettle and pouring hot water in.Ā ābut also, i feel like he has a right to know what the hell heās even asking-- and iām. ... not the right person to explain that. you know?ā
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plastic bag dangling in her right hand filled with various colors of spray paint bought from the art shop, she started walking, taking a different route on her way towards the bus station passing a particular alleyway that was private enough in order to make her way towards ace, someone who was merely an acquaintance to her yet they got along well enough. she sees him, lifting the bag out in front of her. āi got emā! i figured we could tag absolutely everything. starting with this wall.ā she smiles, tossing him a blue colored spray paint can from the bag. gemini had more ideas and painting was just the start of their night, pretty much.
ace doesnāt have to be told twice to get out of the condominium.
he doesnāt have the nicest of demeanors-- but even so, there are people who ignore it just enough, but doesnāt pry too deep, that he can get along with them. so he stands against the brick wall in some seedy back alley of seoul, back resting against the jagged edges, foot propped up against the wall. heās dressed head to toe in black, as he almost always is, a dark beanie covering his fading cherry red hair. the only sign of him being there at all is the white lollipop stick poking out of his mouth, the candy pressing against the skin of his cheek.
he looks up from where heās kicking pebbles along the gravel ground-- and he doesnāt really react much to the girlās exclamation other than to blink at her, and shift his candy from one cheek to the other with a clicking noise.Ā āeverything sounds good,ā he rumbles, lips tugging up ever so slightly at the corners. he catches the can she throws at him with deft fingers, humming as he shakes it up before spraying it experimentally, drawing a spiral.
āwhat a gentleman,ā he says dryly. he drums the fingers on aceās side, tapping a rhythm as he hums in thought.Ā ādidnāt know you were capable of that, ace.ā the teasing tone drips into his words, accentuated by his smile.Ā āor were you trying to find a viable reason to get yourself under me? you know, all you had to do was ask.ā
ace can still feel the ghost of the faint sting when carnage sunk his nails into his skin, can hear carnageās words bumping into each other in his brain-- and he hates how carnage is right. not that heād ever admit this out loud, of course. and the use of the pet name has aceās breath catching, heart speeding up traitorously in his chest and that red flush creeping back and he just... scowls.
and he continues to scowl as he looks up at carnage like this, expression slipping from shock into disdain in less than a minute. but heās just started ( attempting ) to get up when the older male presses in closer, forcing ace back to stay where he is, eyes widening a fraction-- and suddenly he feels just that tiny bit more sober. his lips tug down at the corners, eyes shifting to the side at the flash of movement in his peripherals, catching a glimpse of carnageās hand on the floor beside his head before he turns his attention back to the male above him.
his scowl just deepens and his mouth opens to snap out another, slightly less slurred, insult and maybe a what the fuck are you doing, but then he feels a warm hand on his waist and his brain goes momentarily blank. and then the other male is settling back moreĀ comfortablyĀ and ace is just looking at him incredulously. his mouth is idly parted at this point, staring unwaveringly at the elder, body tensing up at the faint taps on his hip.
āthereās a lot of things,ā he grits out, lifting himself to prop himself up on his elbows-- their noses practically touching, his voice low and a lot more steady ( a lot more confident ) than he actually feels. and heās sure itās the alcohol-- and also most likely the way everything about carnage just irks him, and provokes him, and the elder knows exactly what heās doing.Ā
āiām capable of. you just donāt know it,ā and itās a bit of a threat, voice low as his head cocks to the side, movements still a little bit sluggish-- and the effect is ruined by a silent hiccup, but ace doesnāt let their locked gazes drop.Ā ādonāt be delusional.ā
MISSION: COLLECTION ā class :// b-level
( tw! violence, blood, death )
0:00 ā mission start.
ace tries not to let anything show on his face.
his face is stoic, expression neutral. but he can feel that something is off, he can see it in the faces of the candidates he passes-- they look at him strangely. but he takes steady, confident strides ahead anyway. he doesnāt blink or flinch when a stretcher whizzes past him-- he doesnāt look to see if itās someone he recognizes. he continues with only the destination in mind, blinking to adjust as his vision goes white when he enters the room. heās wary of course-- he is completely on guard, eyes sharpening as they stap him down to the bed.
they smile at him, meant to disarm. but ace isnāt stupid, and right before the world goes dark, he sees the glint of a needle-- he feels something odd. something is off.
but thereās not much he could do at this point. he was at their mercy.
he wakes in the normal, bustling scene of seoul, eyes blinking disorientedly. he frowns when the normal AI speaks to him, and ace taps his foot impatiently. but, realization dawns on him when it continues, and a scowl fixes itself on his face. it deepens as he flinches at the odd feeling of other people somehow... merging with his consciousness. they materialize around him and ace does not recognize a single one-- until he does.
his eyes land on that familiar, unforgettable face, his expression crumbling for just a moment-- but he doesnāt have time to react any further as theyāre sent back under.
ace opens his eyes again to his body floating in a body of water, deep below the surface. he blinks to adjust to the surroundings, looking up to see sunglight hitting the top of the water. he looks at his other teammates, air trapped in his lungs and cheeks puffed. one of the girls-- widow, the holographic text had said, kicks off and shoots up to the surface.
a gunshot sounds out-- ace almost winces.
but hey-- at least it wasnāt them. at least they waited. the AI returns and ace, not for the first time, thinks that if it had a face-- he would definitely punch it. even so, after listening to their mission, they heed its advice and swim around, looking for a safer, farther place to surface.
they finally pull themselves out of the water-- but its not long before another of their members is shot-- the wound swelling and gruesome and downright nasty. we have to leave him, ace thinks-- blinking when zero voices the same opinion. he says as much.Ā
still... as they debate about keeping him for his usefulness, because in this situation, in this mission, more is always better, ace silently leans down to rip off part of his white shirt, improvising it as a bandage-- staunching the flow of blood. he and zero help him up, move him along.
but when itās really unbearable-- when mustang really turns into dead weight, he forges on ahead to the sound of zeroās gun going off behind him. it was for the best-- he knows this. and no emotion shows on his face-- just like back in his initiation when he moved on without batting an eyelash. and just like back then-- he forces the bile that rises up in his throat back down, disguising it as a quiet cough.
it feels like forever before they catch even a glimpse of a single container. the trio sneaks along the rows, before they go their separate ways. ace tugs his cylinder out of his pocket, finally feeling the need to use them. he splits it in half, letting them mold along his arms. he has half a mind to go god-mode-- but with the risk of whatever was in that syringe, ace held off. but he retracts his decision a minute later when a group of soldiers round on him at once. he huffs, lips curling into that characteristic scowl of his as his eyes change color.
the liquid material of his gauntlets travel up all the way to his shoulders, the material now ever-shifting , ever-changing, turning the ruby red color of blood. sparks crackle between the waves, and ace digs his feet into the ground, waiting for them to get close before he attacks. he sends one flying into a container, shifting it a few feet back. he pushes two others into each other, and trips one before he punches it straight in the chest-- leaving the disconcerting sound of shattering bones. he runs without looking back.
eventually, he notices the large crane in the distance with a shit ton of guards-- he happens upon a familiar figure, sliding his red-covered hand over zeroās mouth so he doesnāt yell. and ace is ever protective, his other hand ( electricity carefully deactivated ) wrapping gently around zeroās wrist. but soon theyāre on the run around, and ace protests profusely when zero tells him to go on.
āiāll cover you!ā
and he hesitates much more than he would if this had been anyone else. ace curses out loud but doesnāt want to waste any more time, taking off in a sprint, hand using the floor as leverage when he trips after starting too fast.
on his way to the container, he spots their other surviving teammate, lotus, fighting off a crowd of guards on her own.Ā āFUCK!āĀ ace hisses as he dodges another adversary, oblivious as they crash into a container behind him. this is not going to end well,Ā he thinks grimly. he glances up as he runs, muttering under his breath as he jumps on the next soldier that heads his way, pushing off their shoulders and crushing his foot onto their helmet to pull himself onto a container. he continues to run like this, eyes fixed on the crane in the distance as his boots thud against the metal.
he slows to almost a stop when he sees zero in the distance, heart dropping to his stomach as he falters. in the row over he sees lotus, and ace springs back into motion, sprinting along until heās almost reached his destination. but suddenly a shot rings out and one arm drops to his side, the bullet lodged into his right shoulder blade. he curses as something stings his leg, and he spins around, arm swinging and electricity crackling as he knocks a guard off of the shipment container.
big mistake.
he feels the tell-tale shock of a tase baton striking him in the lower back, and his body rings with pain as he drops to his knees.
he shifts, eyes flickering down to the hands tightening around his shirt. his tongue sweeps across his lower teeth, eyes averting back to the other. he lets out a thoughtful noise.Ā āhm? alright, what would you like to be called then?ā he questions, voice lowering to imitate his, with more of a coy tone rather than irritated.Ā āhoney? pretty? orā¦ā his hands slide, slow and skittering across the otherās arms, teeth catching on his lower lip as his smirk twitches. he keeps his touch soft, gentle and light, fingers twisting so the blunt ends of his nails barely trace over the others arms.Ā ā...baby?ā
the solid grip around his arms, trying to keep him upright, has ace a bit discombobulated. he continues to scowl, mumbling and cursing under his breath as he tries to pull away from the hands with no luck. instead, he uses them to his advantage, letting them hold his body upright. his senses are somewhere between dulled and heightened, varying from jsut one second to the next-- he can almost here the fingers tapping against his skin.
the boy huffs in response, shaking his head rapidly as if trying to get rid of a particularly pesky mosquito. there is buzzing in his head, a fuzziness in his ears, and a sluggishness in his movements as he slursĀ āhell no,ā but not without a hiccup in between. and ace has his eyes practically closed at this point, narrowed into slits as he wets his slightly chapped lips,Ā āi donāt... play hard to get,ā he frowns-- not liking this observation one bit. and because of this-- he tugs carnage even closer, maybe in an attempt to look threatening, resulting in their noses almost brushing, aceās eyes snapping open as if trying to get a good look at the other.
he doesnāt let his gaze waver, holding it steady and strong as his breathing comes a bit heavy, even through his nose. each sentence is ripping apart and piecing itself back together in his head, carnageās teasing, lilting tone registering about a millisecond late in his intoxicated state. but not late enough to prevent aceās breath from hitching in his throat at the last pet name, the last taunt. he takes a step forward-- momentarily forgetting the strong grip he still holds on the otherās shirt-- and sends them toppling.
but as expected, situations like this is when a tipsy aceās senses heighten, and instincts kick in as he pivots, twisting so carnage falls on top of him, the constant shortness of his breath from the alcohol making him breath that much harder as the impact to the ground briefly knocks the wind from his lungs. and he stares up at the other, eyes widened to doe-eyed proportions, mouth parted dumbly in shock, but the only things that comes out is
bombshell swings open the door and looks at ace quizzically, crossing her arms in the threshold.Ā Ā ā you didnāt answer my texts.ā she says drily, even though she knows why.Ā she has a little bit of respect for the idea he wanted to do this face to face.Ā Ā ā ⦠come in.ā
this is going to be a long night.
ace isnāt often nervous.
or, rather, he suprresses it until he doesnāt believe heās nervous-- that way everyone is just as clueless as he is. regardless, he carries himself with his head high and expression confident... because thatās just how you survive around here. but thereās the exception here and there of people he knowsĀ will call him out on his bullshit, who will see right through his ( usually ) calm demeanor.
bombshell happens to be one of those people.
and he knows how attentive the other is-- how sharp, how observant. sees her gaze linger on his bag of convenience store food. he enters her apartment silently, his lips quirking up just slightly, snorting softly at the accusation.Ā āi was already right outside your doorstep,ā he argues. and he sets out his array of ramen bowls and snacks on the counter, hands resting on the countertop and supporting his weight as he leans on it, one hands tapping against the hard surface in anticipation.
āitās what i was coming to talk to you about anyway,ā he states almost conversationally, ripping open one styrofoam bowl as, despite himself, his teeth worry at his lower lip.
ābut if you have any questions, you should ask me them first. iāll answer honestly,ā he finally looks up at her, meeting her gaze with sincerity in his own.
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ānow that you mention it, we did.ā he lets his eyes flicker away for a second before the land right back to aceās face.Ā āwell i mean its not surprising really, weāve been through hell so its only natural time has flown by.ā biting his lower lipĀ ābut i like it, like that weāve been together for this long, yāknow.ā
aceās hand still tingles from where their fingers were intertwined, and he presses them against the glass as if to cool them down, clear the buzzing in his head that was not even solely related to the alcohol that hadnāt even entered his body yet.
and he finds himself leaning against the counter, fist propped up against the counter, the other hand wrapped around his bottle of hite beer as he presses it against his lips. the corners twitch up at the request, his head nodding in approval at the choice of alcohol.Ā āyeah, you know what, let me get one of those too,ā he hums, and with this being the only bar he frequents after the years heās been here... the knowing look from the bartender has him snorting.Ā
he hums, gulping down maybe half of his beer before he starts sipping more leisurely, head cocked to the side. and looking at the other man like this-- he canāt believe the universe, for throwing them back together like this in the cruelest of ways. his lips curl a little bit as he nods his head,Ā āfunny, huh?ā and his smile droops a bit at the somber but true words, and he sits back to take a long swig, humming softly. he glances at zero, expression softening as he leans towards the other almost naturally, staring at him quietly.Ā āyeah. me, too.ā and it hovers there on his tongue, a name so familiar yet so foreign that he just has to... swallow it back down. because theyāre not the same people as they were. not anymore.
he chases this thought away and he finishes his beer, holds the glass in his hand as he glances behind them, at the people mingling in the round booths, at the people dancing in their own world and in little groups dotted along the dark but neon-lit room. he hums softly,Ā ādo you... wanna dance? i havenāt in while.ā
he hums, nodding his head slowly. his smile turns playfully, head shaking as he clicks his tongue at him.Ā āace,ā he says slowly, tutting his tongue at the other.Ā āyou kiss your mother with that mouth, boy?ā he murmurs, eyeing the male for a long moment, smile turning all the more sly. he chances a glance back, then behind the other, peering for anyone else. he returns his attention to the other once he deems the other alone.Ā āquite a lot of dirty words from such a cute mouth.ā
his body sways, ribs and leaden limbs only screaming at him more as carnage tries to force him into an upright position. he eventually manages it with the otherās help ( though heād never admit it ), standing up to his full height... for all of two seconds before heās tipping forward again.
this time, he grabs onto the collar of the other manās shirt with both hands, fingers tightening into his fists as his lips pulls back into a slight sneer. his eyes are lidded, unfocused-- but he visibly shakes his head, vision focusing in and out as he manages to get out,Ā āwhoās falling all over you? not me-- thatās for,ā he starts to fall again, and plants his feet with determination, fists clenching that much tighter into the gripped fabric,Ā āfucking sure. you... you prick... bastard...ā
heās finally managed to find some sort of balance, head lifting. and heās slouched over just slightly, but itās enough so that theyāre eye level, aceās weight threatening to use carnage for support fully. he takes a step forward for leverage, hands unclenching only to slide higher up and sinking back into the fabric, closer to the back of carnageās neck. he only scowls at the sound of his name rolling off the otherās lips so easily as he sways a bit in his spot,Ā ānah, thatās fuckinā weird. donāt kiss my mom at all--ā he focuses his wavering gaze on the older male, and his body betrays him when the slightest red hue creeps across his already alcohol-flushed cheeks.
he grips carnageās shirt that much tighter, voice low and irritated,Ā ādonāt call me that you asshole-- the hell.ā
mostly because he absolutely hatesĀ monotony, and heās found after months of the same routine that he always runs into the same faces, the same fake greetings and smiles, and the occasional sneer-- and itās disgusting. so heād gotten into the habit of alternating his daily activities... even though they were still pretty much the same. heād said he hated monotony, but heād never said he wasnāt boring.
anyhow, just the act of changing his schedule is enough to satisfy him for now. heās a simple man ( he kind of has to be ).
even so, heāll force himself to go elsewhere just to break up his day some more -- in between the excitement of the random activities that the collective liked to throw their way every now and then.
so thatās how heās now standing in line at the coffee shop, one hand wrapped around the end of shineās leash, even though coffee is detestable. he orders an iced americano anyway. he walks over to the waiting area, or, actually-- is tugged over once his dog spots a target lunging forward, tail wagging exciteably as he sniffs around the otherās feet and nudges against her legs.Ā āshine,ā he scolds, tugging her back-- polite apology on the tip of his tongue. but he pauses once he sees itās someone that he recognizes among the sea of candidates, blinking at her owlishly.Ā āoh. hey. sorry, shine really likes girls.ā
āheaded to the gym, iām guessinā?ā he reaches out to grab his iced drink to take a sip, and winceing immediately afterward.Ā ājesus christ.ā
okay well-- thatās a pretty blatant lie. he knows almost exactly how he ended up here, on luckyās couch, newsprint and papers scatter everywhere, tugging his shirt off and tossing it somewhere haphazardly. lucky sits nearby, mixing paints and whatever else is required for this kind of thing. and the reason for that being that despite all of his bravado and his stubborn, immovable responses... ace is extremely weak willed when it came to the people he cared about.
lucky was hardly an exception.
with his enthusiasm and his bright smile and that expectant look in his eyes-- ace couldnāt say no. not that he particularly minded what was asked of him, though a brow did arch in question at the not odd, but spontaneous, request. ( and briefly, the thought flitted through his mind-- questioning whether it had been something he absolutely did not want to do, could he have said no? ... answer to be decided ). so here he is, still not entirely sure the purpose of this-- not that self-conscious and not really phased by his state of half-undress either, considering he was in the gym almost half of everyday.
he leans back, getting comfortable as lucky finally makes his way over to him, palette and brush in hand. ace watches him silently as he dips his brush in, stares at the small flecks of dust floating around the top of luckyās head as the last lights of the day streams through the blinds.Ā āso,ā he breaks the silence after clearing his throat, tone genuinely curious, āis there a reason you wanted to do this on a person instead of... you know, paper?ā
hello friends! wat do u call an alligator wearin a vest ???
ā¦. an investigator. ā¦ā¦ iāll see myself out.
OK BUT NOW THAT terrible dad joke has ur attention maybe possiblyā i am eevee! this is my original blcktmpl boiā a lil rascal who is v angry at the world. he tries to appear heartless bc thatās how u survive but surprise surprise⦠he has squishy marshmallow insides with a gummy heart. just. ā¦.reinforced with some steel around it. ANYWHOā his pages are here !!Ā
profile & backgroundĀ & i have included some more things under the read more!!
all that being saidā pls pls pls feel free to come at me or ( like ) this post (or find me on twt at hopipuffs) and i shalt appear in ur msgs !!! ā” tank u !! - u -
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a while ago... ace had reasoned that he should stay away. shouldnāt get too close, shouldnāt make anything harder than it has to be, especially with the otherās memory riddled with holes. it was harder than he expected-- especially under the weight of memories about years of friendship that he was carrying on his own. and the elation of seeing him again, of talking to him again, even under the terrible conditions it took for him to get her.
but yet here they were, slinking along through the streets of seoul, lights slowly flickering on as the nightlife scene emerged.
they round a corner and ace tugs on zeroās sleeve to stop him from going any further. he holds onto it loosely as he pries open a door, hidden along the edge of the brick wall, inconscpicuous. he lightly pulls on the other boyās arm to get him to follow along, through dark hallways until the flash of neon lights adorning a bar counter flashes into view. itās a relatively quiet scene, perfect for a night like this when. sometimes ace will go out of his way to throw himself in the midst of a throng of people, but today, ace doesnāt want to deal with the headache caused by the ruckus of other people.
he leads the older male over to the bar and hops up on a stool, tapping on the counter and grinning at the bartender,Ā āthink iām gonna start off with a hite tonight,ā and he nods his head in zeroās direction,Ā āand whatever he wants, just put it on my tab.ā his fingers tap against the granite countertop idly, his chin propped up on one of his hands as he glances over at zero.
āwe met here, right?ā he speaks up quietly, looking down at the swirling patterns on the dark granite, feet kicking against the counter.Ā āa year or two seems like forever now,ā he muses, a bit bitterly, letting out a soft sigh.Ā ādoesnāt it?ā
itās been building, growing more and more irritating-- from the moment heād stepped into the gym this morning, not leaving until the afternoon. heās quite used it appearing out of nowhere by now. itās a bit of a constant, always mocking him, always reminding him that heās essentially trapped in a never-ending maze that he canāt escape from. that sense of entrapment, of restriction-- irks him.
so he drowns it. he starts his night by slowly working at a bottle of jack until itās a third of the way gone-- then slips on a plain silk button up and the only pair of pants he owns that arenāt joggers, though they are still ripped, and goes outĀ to the city to visit a bar ( he doesnāt frequent just one... thatās too risky even for his taste. he doesnāt want to be found when he doesnāt have to be ). and then heās at the convenience store, slurping some shin ramen and dunking his triangle kimbap into it, blending in with the unaware college students and business men stopping by for a midnight dinner after a long day of work. he buys another large can of beer, headsĀ āhomeā to wait for the one train that runs at this time of night.
but heās still restless. he sits on the train as it takes him back into the Condominium, taking long swigs and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. but instead of getting off at his stop, he waits a bit longer, until he finds himself exiting the transport at section 6. and something compels him, doesnāt know what or why, but his feet take him up, up a somewhat familiar path to the quiet floors where the candidates rest. and his feet finally stop outside a door. he doesnāt even consciously know who heās bothering-- until his abrupt knocking has someone yanking the door open, and ace practically falls forward, the empty can falling from his hand and rolling in uninvited.
he catches himself on a solid body, head lifting up to look at him-- his breath must reek of alcohol. but even at this state, with his tolerance, heās still pretty coherent, not to the point where heās lost himself. still functioning. āyou. hey, yeah you. fuck you,ā he slurs, slowly trying to right himself.Ā
āno good, slimy snake bastard-- dumb smile on your face all the time i want to punch it off. fuckinā fucker.ā