#kargos

Skane makes the first move, swinging for Amit's throat. It's sloppy, and easy to block with the borrowed chainaxe he'd grabbed from one of the Conqueror's many, many armories. He swerves out of the way of the next one, because Kargos is lunging for their second opponent, the chain limiting their range.

Even with that handicap, it makes little difference. They move like the chain is a living thing, a shared limb wired into their nervous systems. Familiarity is their best weapon, and they wield it with the same violent delight they do any other. The enemy world eater barely parries Kargos' strike, scarred face twitching with the nails' wrathful song. Amit bares his extended eye teeth in response, a grin barely fitting the definition of the word.

His soul screams for blood, just as much as the World Eaters do, in the pit and in the stands and in dozens of places just like this, all over the universe. In this, they are kin, different legions be damned.

The two pairs separate for a breath, Skane and his partner righting themselves, before all rush back in. Their opponents have little time to pull up their weapons before Amit and Kargos are on them, raining down blow after blow. Skane and the other man put up a good fight, both skilled in their own right, but their coordination is lacking- Amit senses the moment of victory coming, his hearts two war drums against his ribs. Beside him, Kargos laughs, hungry and wild, as he throws himself forward, aiming for Skane's head.

The world eater dodges, making his own strike against the apothecary, but therein lies his mistake. The chain between the two clangs loudly as it's stretched to its tightest, jarring them out of their stances. Just a touch, but it's enough. With a snarl, Amit lunges, strikes.

The chainaxe, even unpowered as it is, tears a deep rent in the World Eater's chest, fresh, vibrant blood spraying out across the sand. Their onlookers roar in violent delight, and somewhere beneath beneath The Thirst's nigh-overpowering grasp, he can hear a voice yelling about first blood.

Already stepping away, the losing World Eater duo laughs, throwing insults at his feet they mean only about halfway. His bloodied opponent appears utterly unbothered by the new wound crossing his already scarred chest, too busy cursing Skane's misstep which lost them the fight. Amit's eyes linger hungrily on the red vitae dripping onto the sands, fangs aching in his gums.

A jerk on the chain is enough to pull him away from the worst of it, but he snarls at Kargos anyway, more reflex than anything. The Bloodspitter just grins, the baring of iron teeth equally as hungry as the Blood Angel's.

"You're done, boys," says a woman's voice from the arena's edge. Captain Sarrin's crisp, white uniform stands out amongst the reds and greys of astartes fatigues, but the sharpness in her eyes is the same as every legionnaire's in this room. "That was your eighth round. Leave some for the rest of them, won't you?"

"Ah, come on 'Tara!" Kargos grins, sweat beading down his brow and chest heaving. Struggling through the red haze of The Thirst clouding his thoughts, Amit realizes he's no better off. He'd lost himself in the clash and clamor of combat, turning everything to a crimson-hued blur, but now that his blood begins to cool, he's starting to feel the strain it left on his body. "How about one more for the road? Maybe against you and the eighth captain there-" he nods at Kharn standing beside the shipmistress, the man's brows raised in bemusement, "we could make it a special round. That wouldn't count, would it?"

Sarrin scoffs, raising her nose in a mockery of a spire-born's attitude, but her grin has the World Eaters' bite to it. "You're not worth mucking up my uniform for, Kargos. Now," she jerks her head, "out."

"You heard the lady," Kharn adds dryly, joking, and the shipmistress socks him in the arm. The only sign the eight captain noticed the blow is a twitch in his brow, his nails reacting to physical contact.

Kargos just laughs, the hacking wheeze of a mangy dog, and lifts his hands in surrender. The chain clangs where it hangs between him and Amit, pulling him a touch closer to the other man. "Alright, alright," the World Eater says. Followed by the jeers of his fellows, he throws an arm around Amit's shoulders, and starts dragging them both off the sands.

They stagger more than walk between the makeshift stands and out into the corridors beyond, still buzzing with combat hormones and worn from their fights besides. Behind them, the crowds are already cheering for the next combatants coming up, but Amit barely hears it. There is only the clawing of his thirst and Kargos, still grinning at nothing, pressed up against his side. Bound together by chain and choice, and all that represents.

As in the fight before, Amit makes the first move. The moment they're out of sight, in one of the many places where the lights flicker more than they glow, he shoves Kargos against a wall and smashes their mouths together.

The violence of the impact brings with it the sweet, coppery taste of blood, and he laps at the world eater's lower lip as Kargos laughs, and reaches back. Rough hands bring him closer, fingers already beginning to twitch as the adrenaline of the fight wears off and the nails take over, but still the apothecary kisses him back, messy and violent as their spar had been. They won't have long for this, they never do. Amit doesn't care.

They say joy only comes from bloodshed for the World Eaters, but the butcher's nails are not perfect. The few minutes after a good fight, when his heart rate is up and the blood pounds, there's space for a bit of something else, if one knows how to go about it. Where contact doesn't hurt his chain brother like a knife to the back of his skull, where he can bear to be touched like this, And Amit can get a taste of this closeness he will never get to keep.

He'll will make the most of it. He always does.

The wound on his chain brother's lip has already closed, larraman's cells doing their damned duty. Amit bites down on Kargos' lip with his fangs extended, hungry for one more taste. Beneath him, the apothecary groans, pleasure mixing with oncoming agony. Their time is almost up.

In what he knows to be the final moments of their encounter, at least until the next bout of fights, Amit pushes his ever-present Thirst down and gentles his kiss, just a little. Lets his hands run over the World Eater's scarred face, as if trying to soothe the twitch in his cheek from the nails biting down. He feels Kargos tug him closer, fingers digging into his neck and back-

Only to push him away a second later, face twisting into a pained grimace, even as something that only distantly sounds like laughter forces itself out of his throat.

Amit lets him go, watching his chain brother suffer the consequences of his touch, hearts beating fast in his chest from their fight and their closeness both. He's not fully satisfied, hungry as he always is for more - more blood, more battle, more of this - but this fleeting taste is better than nothing. They are what they are, the both of them; there's only so much skirting around their natures before reality catches up. He's long since made his peace with that.

Still; watching Kargos breathe through the knifing agony in his skull, before offering him a pained, but no less genuine grin, makes a raw sort of feeling flit through his chest, around where his hearts beat. He pushes it aside, out of his mind, smiles back; sharp and wide and just a little rueful.

The chain binding them together rings between them as they turn, moving in sync right back to where they'd come from. The roaring crowds are a poor substitute for being in the pit himself, or the press of Kargos' body against his, but he'll take it.

Besides, it's turning out to be a long campaign, and a long crusade beyond that. There'll be time to do this all again.

Never enough, Amit knows; but that's nothing new, either.

-

Pretty short, seeing as I wrote this to get over a bit over a writer's block, but I still hope you enjoyed! And yes, the title is a pun. Feel free to throw tomatoes at me, but it made me laugh.