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“Naib?”
Black turned into a blinding white that the man’s eyes refused to adjust to. Everything was so blurry, so messy – what had once been the shape of a tree had blended in with the cloudless sky, and now he definitely couldn’t tell where he was.
“Are you awake?”
He felt nauseous, weak. Without hearing himself, he hummed out a mhmmm, and the blurry world before him began to spin the second time he opened his eyes. A chuckle filled the air, coming from a direction just as mysterious as the unfamiliar voice that spoke to him. It surrounded him, resounding absolutely everywhere.
“You’re quite funny.”
There was nothing funny about it, though. One more minute of this and Naib would throw up all over himself. His body felt like it was floating. Why?
The third time he opened his eyes, the world began to set itself back into place.
“Naaaib? Are you still with me?”
Now he could definitely tell the tone of the voice. It was playful, poking fun at him. As he slowly regained consciousness, it began to piss him off.
On a side note, his body hadn’t been floating after all. It felt quite heavy too. He realized then that he was being carried by somebody, and he could feel two hands that pressed firmly against his skin. His own arms had been dangling below, and he recoiled them back up, crossing them over his chest this time.
He couldn’t feel his precious elbow pads. Had he worn them out again?
He coughed into the air, drawing the attention of the man above him.
“Oh, there you are, Naib.” As if he hadn’t been there all along, in his arms.
Naib narrowed his eyes, as if trying to adjust himself to the sight all over again. No, his face wasn’t blurry and shaky like the scenery around them had been minutes ago. It was clear and sharp. The voice didn’t seem all that unfamiliar either, because Naib had been running away from that same humming for the past two years of his life, exchanging pointless banter that led neither of them anywhere. It was Jack, undeniably – it’s just that he wasn’t wearing his mask.
Jack was a constant in Naib’s life. He was there even when he really wasn’t, because he occupied his mind like no other, just not in a good way. As much as we hate each other, we always end up like this, he thought to himself as he breathed in the scent of blood, roses and masculine perfume, letting his head lean a little closer to Jack’s chest so it didn’t dangle loose.
They quarrelled so much, and it was interesting, because Naib was the kind to promptly speak up whenever he disagreed with anyone – and the less respect he had for you, the more abrasive and cocky he was about defending his stance, and it’s safe to say he held absolutely no regard for Jack whatsoever – and though Jack fired back most of the time, it always felt a bit intentional; forced, even, at least ever since Naib had stopped to think about it. It was like Jack purposely disagreed with him because he wanted to see him get angry. Like he was entertaining him.
That was the reason Naib was always thinking about him; he just gave him that much to think about. It felt like Naib understood Jack like the palm of his hand (although he did always find that there was always something lacking, some hint he wasn’t quite catching because Jack didn’t want him to). But he had never seen his face.
Naib squinted his eyes to look at it. He crinkled his nose.
“Since when are we on first name basis?”
Jack laughed a deep laugh. It pissed him off even more, if that was even possible, because he always sounded like he was having so much fun whenever he laughed like that. Maybe it was because Naib had been so used to seeing him with a mask on, but he thought Jack turned out to be much more expressive than he had imagined. To top it off, his smile was attractive, his gaze was sharp and his jawline was so fucking– punchable.
“Why, do you miss the pet names so much?”
Naib’s face went red in one second when he realized exactly what was so weird about hearing his name coming from Jack’s mouth. It was the way he had never addressed him by it, but rather by stupid-sounding words like dear and darling and whatever else he had in stock that Naib definitely did not appreciate being called. Stupid British people.
“No!” He refuted defensively. “I do not! And where the fuck are you taking me?”
Jack sighed, and Naib found himself staring at him. There was something just so human about him now. It may have been because he was finally seeing his face, which he had been just a little bit curious about for the past years, but maybe it also brought out other little details about him. Naib was no observer, but he surely paid attention to what his eyes could reach.
Like his Adam’s apple, for example. Naib’s eyes got caught on it, and when they finally broke free from the sight, they went right up to his lips. Jack had very red, thin lips.
“You hid from me again.” Jack replied. “And you picked a pretty decent spot. Took me a while to find you passed out and bleeding back there.”
Ah, right. It had been a pretty intense match, and Naib now remembers blaming himself for the downfall of his colleagues. He knew Jack was pretty much useless in bigger maps like this, and he had only his own (second) failed rescue to blame for their loss. This had been the final thing he could remember thinking about before losing consciousness in that secluded corner of the Moonlit River Park.
But Naib was no stranger to this type of thought.
“So where are we going? There’s a chair right over there.” He said, but his arm was much too weak to point. Not weak, he realized in his head, but comfortable. It’s comfortable like this. I don’t want to move.
Naib tried focus his eyes on something else – anything other than Jack’s face, for fuck’s sake – and found himself staring at water.
They had been assigned the River Park map. Naib had fought there so many times before, and he knew every corner of it by head. At that point, he knew the locations of pallets and sharp turns and walls like he knew how to walk his way in the dark from his bedroom to the kitchen back at home, in the house he had grown up in. Paths, winding and confusing as they were, were engraved in the back of his mind. He let himself be guided by his subconscious rather than his feet, and found that things were much safer that way.
But he had never really stopped to look at the places he walked, not really; and he was only now realizing that. So used to dirty, run-down, dark enclosing walls, he was drawn to the clear waters of the river and how they flowed peacefully. The thin fences around it added a nice touch to the view. They were not broken or rotten or weak. It was a nice sight.
“You can have the dungeon,” Jack spoke casually, and Naib opened his mouth to protest, but, “Unless you prefer the gate.”
“The gates are open?” He asked with a certain urgency.
“Mhm.”
Naib looked down at his hands. They were dirty, bloody and full of scratches, but he smiled at them.
“How many of them escaped?”
“Only Zelle.”
A bummer, really. But if Jack was giving him dungeon, it meant he was giving up a win.
The hatch was right behind a little circus tent, though hidden behind a few unnecessarily closed-in walls. The path towards it was narrow as could be, but it was open and inviting Naib into the darkness. Although it compelled him, his ego spoke louder.
“I’d rather die. Don’t need your mercy.” He gritted his teeth. He wanted the draw; he wanted it very much, but he wouldn’t say it. Not to Jack. He looked back up at his face, taking in his features again. He had refrained from commenting about it with him, but Jack had done him an even bigger favour by pretending he hadn’t seen him stare.
“Dramatic. If I wanted to chair you, I would have. But where’s the fun in that?”
Naib furrowed his brow.
“What does that even mean?”
“I didn’t get to chase you.”
That was right. Jack had terror-shocked Naib twice during his rescues, hit him so hard he felt the strength be drowned out of his body and render him useless. Other than that, there had been no chase, and so Naib had felt weak and pathetic as he cowered and bled in that little corner of the map.
He had felt horrible about it, but he gave a small smile at Jack’s implication. The chase was always the fun part, he agreed. It was better with Jack, too – better than when he was up against anybody else. He squinted his eyes to try and understand what he was feeling, because for once, he could have the chance to read the look in Jack’s eyes. Naib had the impression that a quick flash of sadness had taken over his features, his tight-lip smile seeming shaken up for a second – but he quickly got rid of that thought.
“Save your teammates the draw. Aren’t you their hero?”
Slowly, because he knew Naib’s body ached like a bitch even though the mercenary wasn’t one to complain about pain, Jack set him back down on the ground. Indeed, his feet felt a little weak and he nearly stumbled for a bit.
“That makes you the bad guy.” He smiled up at him. “But I’ll take it. Dumbass.”
With a sly smile, Naib found his balance again.
Jack shook his head.
“Give me a better thrill next time.”
Naib nodded. He realized he didn’t really want to go. For a brief moment, he had a thought – that what he really wanted was for Jack to jump down that dungeon with him, or run out the exit gate with him. But Jack was far too rotten for that.
“Only if you promise you’ll catch me.”
Jack’s heart skipped a beat.
There was something odd about their rivalry, something in the way they felt about each other, and as Naib stared deep into his eyes, he realized that they both knew what it was.
Jack towered over the mercenary, but just as Naib heard his own words and began to grow red with embarrassment, he went down on his knees and pulled him just a little bit closer. He offered him a gentle smile, but Naib knew him well enough to understand it was of the teasing kind.
Naib had a puzzled look on his face. He wasn’t sure if he was understanding it right, but he also felt as if he was in too much of a rush to think too hard on it. He left a quick and awkward kiss on Jack’s lips, and it was enough to taste him, to understand and process his flavour. Jack would have asked for more, because a man who has waited for years surely deserved more than just a quick peck, but there was something in the way Naib stared down at him hesitant and expectingly that made him think this was as far as they should be willing to go.
He held onto his hand and returned the favour with a kiss to the back of his calloused fingers.
“I promise.”