Work Text:
It had been a long night. The last time Tango checked, the clock had taunted him with some time past two. Unfortunately, it didn’t look like the stack of paperwork was going to disappear any time soon. He eyed it with disdain as he twirled a heavy pen in his fingers. His hands itched to be fiddling with one of his cigarettes instead.
He hadn’t touched his lighter all day, he deserved something of a reward. That could be attributed to the fact he didn’t actually have it, but that was irrelevant. What Skizz thought of his habits wasn’t supposed to matter as much as it did. And he didn’t put up as much of a fight when he confiscated Tango’s lighters.
He shook himself out of yet another derailed train of thought with a huff of annoyance. Swear on his dice, he really was trying to get this shit done. Yet his head was up in the clouds, full with cotton and the occasional edges of pain. The drooping of his eyes wasn’t helping, either, not even mentioning the bitter cold of his office. He had turned the heat off completely in hopes that it would keep him awake. Alas, it only served to give him stiff fingers and numb feet. His silver piercings felt like ice.
He could see his Skizz kicked back in one of the guest chairs, book in hand and suit jacket tight around his shoulders. Every couple of minutes he would look up and give Tango a worried look. Guilt swirled in his gut for keeping his bodyguard up so late, but the work needed to get done.
“Hey, Tango- you think you can wrap it up soon? It’s late, and far past the time I go to sleep. Maybe we could both turn in just about now.” Skizz’s voice was earnest, if heavy with tiredness, and his concern sounded genuine enough. Tango silently cursed him for mentioning his wellbeing, as Skizz knew Tango would never care much for his own. Slightly peeved at the interruption and frustrated at his lack of progress, he snapped back.
“If you’ve got to sleep that bad, be my guest! I’ve just got to look over these dozen contracts and two huge packets of business inquiries before I can get up from my desk, but you’re free to do whatever! Go where you please, I don’t mind at all!” Skizz’s expression drifted into a frown. Tango buried his face in his hands, mad at himself for taking it out on the last person he would want to hurt.
“Shit, I’m real sorry Skizz I just- I’m stressed and tired and I know what you’re going to say, I really do have to finish this before sleeping- you don’t deserve for me to yell at you, god you don’t get paid nearly enough for my bullshit.” He waved off his bodyguard with a heavy heart.
“I don’t think-” Tango cut off his protests.
“Go to bed. I don’t mind.” He picked back up his pen and refused to look away from the papers that were going to be the death of him. He could faintly hear the huff of a half-amused sigh and the sound of someone sitting heavily on the leather couch.
“‘S alright. My job is to protect you, I’ll stay up for however long as you do. Take your time, sweetheart. There’s a couple of hours ‘til sunrise yet.” Tango flushed to the tips of his ears and stubbornly did not look up to see the easy smile he knew would be on Skizz’s face. It would only serve to fuel the warmth in his stomach that always strengthened whenever one of those smiles was directed at him.
It was scary, unfamiliar, and only happened after months of them spending their days together, in and out. If it was what he feared, well, maybe the Life Dealer had other things to worry about than card counters in his casinos. Those were still a high priority though, of course.
Sometimes when he let his thoughts drift, well, every time his head was in outer space and completely off track, it always seemed to circle back around to Skizz. His face, his bright smile, the scars littering his arms he refused to talk about unless they were betting on playing cards. Yet there were still a precious few he would not speak of. Some stories went with those Tango might never hear.
Memories seeped in when he was distracted, too. He could see in his mind’s eye the first glimpse he caught of Skizz, the loyal guard that got left behind by his crew. Dogwarts had been everywhere on the news. Skizz had asked over and over again to be taken in, just for a little bit, and Tango saw an opportunity. What had that investment become? He had no clue. His instincts kept trying to kick in and slam up his walls after Skizz carefully took them down over time, but he did his best to ignore their paranoia.
Scenes flashed in his head, faint voicemails to brothers moved on, gazing up at the one guiding him around the dance floor at that fateful gala, pinned to the ground in his own training room, pride smothered as he was forced to admit he might just need some protection.
He remembered all this and more, as the chin in his hand gradually shifted to his arms, pillowing his head on the mahogany desk. The thoughts slowed but didn’t stop. The last coherent thing he could remember was his horror at thinking about the terrible possibility of Skizz taking a bullet for him. After that, it was just darkness.
He woke up on the leather couch. Skizz’s jacket was draped over him, and he was achingly warm. His shoes had been left carefully aligned on the floor at the end of the couch. He squinted and rubbed his eyes, trying to make out any silhouettes in the darkened room.
Too lazy to slip his shoes back on, he padded around the carpeted floor in his socks. His swivel chair was left pushed away from his desk. His paperwork looked like it was tidied, and the computer was powered down. He caught a glimpse of his messy hair in the screen’s reflection and tried to flatten it, to no avail.
Embarrassed, his thoughts jumped to what might have happened. How had he even gotten to the couch? He was a light sleeper all his life, had to be. The only person he allowed in here was, well- Skizz. Oh no, Skizz.
His face colored with the realizations of what probably happened. He was likely carried to the couch once he passed out on his desk by Skizz, and was left with the jacket still hanging around his shoulders.
He was shocked he managed to fall asleep around someone in the first place, let alone someone he had met such a relatively short time ago. Not to even mention staying asleep as he was carried over to the couch.
Trying to tune out the encroaching guilt and fear, he padded over to the old, creaky door that served as the exit to his office. He eased it open a crack and peered out into the hallway. Skizz was right there, like always, and the bright smile he sent Tango lit a wildfire in his stomach.
“Well good morning, sleeping beauty. Did you rest well?” Any possible words stuck in Tango’s throat, always shocked at the nicknames. Skizz didn’t mean anything by them, probably, but it only affected him more every time.
“I- uh, hello to you. Last night, did I really, uh- did you?” His stumbling was quite amusing to Skizz, judging by the growing grin on his face.
“Don’t worry about it.” Tango scowled and swatted his shoulder lightly. “No, really, don’t, it was no trouble. You’re too light to be any kind of a pain.” He was swatted again, and his bright smile wouldn’t fade. There was a comforting permanence to it.
“Did you even sleep?” Tango stood next to him in the hallway now, jacket still draped around his shoulders. He silently hoped Skizz wouldn’t ask for it back.
“Would’ve slept plenty more if a certain someone knew how to quit it before he passed out.” Tango refused to shrink at the lighthearted glare.
“Huh. Well, if you know who he is, send him my way. Need to give a stern talking-to about how many hours of sleep my bodyguard needs.” The wildfire had settled to a pleasant smolder, and he was enjoying it. Skizz chuckled and nudged him back towards the door.
“Honey, go back to sleep. I’ll be here to guard your door. A couple more hours couldn’t hurt.” Tango let himself be pushed through the doorway. The couch did sound tempting.
“Hmm, alright. As long as you sleep early tonight. You can’t protect me well if you’re exhausted.” Amused, Skizz nodded and gestured towards the couch. He let the door creak shut.
Tango tiredly shuffled back over to where he had just woken up moments before. His eyelids were already drooping. It was funny how he hadn’t been tired at all, but now given the option, he wasn’t putting up much protest to return to sleep.
He drifted off with a smile on his face and without a hint of smoke in the air.