Chapter Text
The pair had managed to find a way to sneak off, leaving the previously formed crowd completely stunned. Among them, none other but Crimson and Champagne, who were stuck staring at nothing in shock.
“Right, what the fuck was that?” Crimson spoke first, turning to her comrade, who looked rather nonchalant considering what had just happened. He only shrugged in response; no one really knew the answer to that.
“Well, I guess he can satisfy men,” he responded matter-of-factly, earning a small, contained giggle from Crimson. Soon enough, both of them burst out laughing together, probably looking mad to outsiders.
“Cheers to that!” she exclaimed, raising her plastic cup. They clinked their drinks and took a sip; well, Champagne tried but he was quickly met with the disappointing realization that he had emptied the bottle a good 15 minutes ago.
”What do you think they will do now?”
Crimson thought about it, slightly tilting her head. Then, she made a really disgusted face. “Honestly, I don’t even wanna think about it…”
They sat in silence for a bit, just doing nothing, until Champagne spoke.
“So, the bet?”
”Well, neither of them won so I guess there’s no winner for that either.”
“Long haired guy almost won so i should win, right?”
Crimson frowned. “I’m not giving you money for a fight that didn’t even end, mate! Are you being serious?!”
“I’m not wrong! He could have won if he wasn’t stupid,” Champagne protested, slightly raising his voice.
“Oh rack off! I’m not giving you jack.”
“В жизни никогда не можно выиграть, черт возьми…” he muttered under his breath. “You still owe me $10, I don’t forget.”
She snorted at that. “Yeah, when we’re rich and famous I’ll repay ya!” she added with enough sarcasm to kill a healthy adult male. Thank God Champagne couldn’t be considered as such.
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“No no no, don’t tilt your head backwards, you might throw up or choke. Just sit up straight and tilt your head forwards.”
”What, like this?”
”Yeah, good. Now, lightly pinch the soft part of your nose. Let me get you some tissues while you’re at it.”
He had barely managed to get to the tissue box before he heard the mystery guy groan and mutter something in some other, foreign language. Logico wasn’t quite sure what he said but judging by the sharpness in his tone, it must’ve been some curse.
”Shit, there’s just more blood coming out!”
”No that’s good, that’s what should happen; you want to get it all out. Here you go.”
The stranger just sighed and took the tissues, trying his best to clean everything up. About a minute had passed and he was quietly singing some tune, seemingly lost in his own mind; Logico couldn’t help but notice just how beautiful the man’s voice was. An idea popped up in his mind, but he shelved it.
“So, uh, how’s the ice pack working?” the stranger asked, an awkward smile plastered on his face. The ice pack in question was a plastic bag filled with a bunch of ice cubes. “Sorry, it’s the best I could find,” he added with a small chuckle.
“It’s doing its job well enough,” he said while moving it around, the sound of the ice shuffling around filling the air. “So, what do we do now?”
”Truth be told, I’d rather get taken out than go back to those sods. Wanna sneak out?”
Logico turned to fully look at the man; his green eyes were sparkling, like emeralds. His toothy smile seemed warm and sincere, nothing like the shit-eating grin he was wearing earlier. But probably the most notable features on him were the two dimples decorating each cheek. He was beautiful. Wait a minute, shit. Getting distracted again. Right, back to the question.
He let out a sigh. “What the hell, sure. Nothing more to lose here.”
The man’s smile only grew bigger.
”Look —again, I’m so sorry about this.”
”What, the eye? I told you, it’s fine. Nothing worse than the average chessboxing injury.”
The mystery man twiddled with his hands. “The eye, the insults; everything! If there’s anything I gotta do, I’ll absolutely repay ya.”
Logico just puffed and smiled. “Don’t stress it, man. I don’t keep grudges.” That seemed to calm the stranger down.
“Thank goodness for it, too. You’re a lovely bloke!”
He felt his face get a bit hot at the mystery man’s compliment, but he regained composure quick enough. The road being so dimly lit was helpful for once; who would’ve guessed.
”Then, how come you did do that?” Logico questioned, curiosity dripping from his voice. He just couldn’t find an explanation.
The man started twiddling his thumbs nervously once again. “Stupid bet between my mates; these blokes are mad.”
Logico raised one of his thick eyebrows at that. “What was the prize?”
”Doing all my coursework for the whole semester,” the man mumbled. “Listen, I wanted to approach you anyways. You really seemed like a cool bloke! It’s a shame it had to be like that.”
“It’s fine, at least we solved the issue.” Logico added wirh a small smile.
They kept walking until they finally managed to find a bench —though Logico only noticed it when the guy pointed it out.
“So…” the stranger started, sitting down and making himself comfortable quite shamelessly. “You said you’re a chessboxer?” Logico just nodded.
“Ah, I see. Explain why you’re so good at punchin’; I was fearing for my life out there.” He added with a sly smile.
“I better be with all my skin in the game. You ain’t too bad yourself, almost got me. Incredible dodging skills, I gotta say.”
”Eh, when you got a village worth of blokes constantly wanting to punch ya, it becomes second nature.” He paused, shifting awkwardly in his seat. “You’re also pretty good at the…uh…other thing.” Logico instantly buried his head in his hands. His voice was all muffled, muttering apologies. If his face was getting hot before, it was burning like coals now.
The green eyed man only giggled. “Oi, it’s fine. I’ve had far worse. Hell, ‘twas a proper good kiss —honest!” But the other man stayed there. “Look, want a fag?”
He immediately shot up upon heading that. “A what now!?”
The stranger furrowed his brows and tilted his head in confusion for just a second before really processing and realizing what he had just said. He immediately covered his mouth as another laughing fit kicked in. “I’m sorry—I’m sorry! I forgot!” He managed to get out between giggles. “Let me rephrase that; want a cigarette?”
Logico just smiled and extended a hand, while the other took the cigarette out and lit it before handing it over. “Don’t you want one too?” He asked, taking a drag.
”Nah, I’ll just smoke yours.”
”Are you crazy? I’m not sharing with a stranger,” he exclaimed, though in a playful way.
”Oh please, you shoved your tongue down my throat but the cigarette is too far for ya?”
”Stop reminding me of that!”
The stranger just smiled in response; he was quite the laughing fellow but you could say it was part of his charm. He extended his hand and Logico handed it over begrudgingly, trying really hard to hide his smile.
“You know what’s funny? All of that and I still don’t know your name!”
”Suppose you forget your manners when you’ve got bigger fish to fry.” He let out a downturned smile and extended his now free hand. “Well, you can call me Logico.”
The mystery man took a drag from the cigarette, blowing the smoke in Logico’s face —normally, that would’ve made him fly off the handles, but it seemed almost delightful coming from that man. He then grabbed his hand and shook it with an enormous, almost idiotic grin. “Irratino, pleased to meet ya!”
Just as he got the words out, his phone rang. He picked it up and started talking rapidly in a different language yet again. He seemed disappointed, almost annoyed. It couldn’t have been more than a minute, but it felt like an eternity to Logico. He took another drag.
The man hung up and turned back to him. ”I gotta go, the knobheads are looking for me. Oi, let’s not get lost after this eh?”
He handed the other man his cell phone and they swiftly exchanged numbers —and the cigarette. Irratino got up and started walking away, turning briefly to face Logico with the phone sign before promptly leaving. Logico could only wave back in response, cigarette still burning. He didn’t get up; he just sat there, staring at his cellphone, processing everything. Should he give him a call?
He threw the cigarette on the floor, stomping it to put it out. He’ll solve whatever this is, won’t he?