Work Text:
Sonny’s hand is on the underside of the short boy’s arm. He drags him through the door and barely waits for the boy to cooperate. Sonny’s expression is as neutral as ever, but the boy’s lips are curled down a bit. It’s not quite a pout, but it is clear that this expression means that he knows he is caught. Maybe he even knows that there is no way to talk himself out of it this time, which means he will likely shoot straight into pretending that the crime he committed was justified. If anything, he might pretend that Sonny was in the wrong for catching him at all; that it would have been better if Sonny would’ve just let it slide entirely.
But Sonny won’t listen to him. He won’t be swayed by the sad expression on the boy’s face, and he won’t feel bad for him either. He is determined to be relentless, even though that in itself has become harder and harder these days. It seems like every time they run into one another like this, it becomes harder for Sonny to stand his ground. It must be something about the boy’s eyes, he supposes. There’s always something inside of them that makes it hard for Sonny not to feel for him.
Still, he yanks him through the room. He walks towards the table and puts him down on the chair underneath it. It is then that Sonny can let him go. The boy probably knows that if he were to try and make a run for it, there would be no way he would be fast enough to unlock the door before Sonny would get the chance to catch up with him.
Sonny sits down on the opposite side of the table. He sits straight up, with his hands folded on top of the surface. He looks at the boy, but the boy is not looking back at him. The boy’s lips are still curled downwards in the same way, never changing. His eyes show signs of hurt, which Sonny knows he only notices because he knows how to look at him.
“Do you not remember what we talked about?” Sonny asks him. His voice is far gentler than his actions were. Sounding like this, he would even be able forget that he dragged Alban away with brute force just moments ago.
Alban huffs, then turns himself away from the table even more. He stares at the wall instead, as if to avoid having to look at Sonny at all. Sonny knows that he likely feels betrayed, but there is very little Sonny can do about that right now. He has to stand his ground. Sympathy has to wait until he has managed to properly re-establish the rules.
“I didn’t want to catch you,” Sonny says. “And you know I never want to catch you.”
“So why did you?!” Alban finally exclaims. It’s the first sentence Sonny has heard him speak since he caught him. “I would have been fine!”
“You agreed!” Sonny exclaims. “I said that you couldn’t do that anymore and you agreed. Did you lie to me?”
Alban says nothing. Sonny can see that he wants to defend himself, but he can’t. After all, Sonny knows that it wasn’t a lie. Alban, although he hadn’t wanted to, had said himself that the thievery had to stop. He had promised to Sonny that it wouldn’t happen again, and Sonny knows all too well that that hadn’t been a lie. He wouldn’t have been quite as upset if it had.
“I would have been fine,” he repeats.
“You don’t know that!” Sonny exclaims. He sounds angrier now, causing Alban to flinch ever so slightly. “Someone else might have caught you, and then what would have happened? I can tell you that they wouldn’t have brought you back home with them!”
Alban lets out a humourless laugh. “No one else could have caught me. The only reason you know how to catch me is because you know me! If anyone else would’ve been there, I would have escaped. I would have tried a whole lot harder to get awa–”
“Enough!” Sonny slams his hand down on the table. He stands up from his seat and looks at Alban, whose muscles seem a whole lot tenser now. It is clear that he feels shocked at Sonny’s sudden outburst, as he is finally facing Sonny, rather than grumpily looking away from him. “I said you could stay here if you stop! Do you have any idea how much danger you’re bringing me into right now? If anyone else finds out that I’ve got a thief living with me, everything is over for me. Is that what you want, Alban?!”
Alban sucks in a deep breath and releases it before it’s gotten the chance to properly reach his lungs. He turns himself around on his chair, putting himself in a far more comfortable position to face Sonny. “No,” he then mutters. His voice is quiet and shaky. “I would’ve been fine…” he adds in a higher pitch, the words so quiet that Sonny almost can’t hear them.
Sonny sighs, releasing the tension from his chest. He moves towards Alban’s chair and kneels down in front of him. Alban seems surprised, but gladly takes the comfort. “I know this must not be easy for you, but you have to stop, okay? I don’t want you to get in trouble, and I’m pretty sure you don’t want to get me in trouble either.”
“No,” Alban agrees. “I really don’t.”
Sonny takes hold of both Alban’s hands and holds them between his own, on top of Alban's lap. “If you think you’re going to do something illegal like stealing, you have to call me. I’ll come help you before anything happens. Okay?”
Alban pushes his fingers against Sonny’s palms, applying some pressure to feel closer to Sonny. “Okay,” he says, though sounding unsure of himself.
“It’s the last chance, okay? You really have to stop it now, or I really won’t know what to do anymore. And I don’t want that. I really don’t want that.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Alban sighs. “Okay. Yeah.” Once again, Sonny can see that he isn’t lying.
“Good,” Sonny says. He moves himself up a bit and moves in close, finding the back of Alban’s head in order to push him against his shoulder. Alban moves along with him without having to spare it a second thought. “Then c’mere, little thief,” he breathes into the hair on the side of Alban’s head, “I’ve still got you.”