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You always started to zone out a little after a few drinks at the bar. Something about the swaying state of mild drunkenness that made your mind wander, and honestly if it weren’t for your constant rocking back and forth in your chair and slightly slurred speech whenever someone spoke to you, nobody would even know you were drunk. As for why you were here in the first place, well, it was the weekend and you had nothing better to do.
Oh, Kankri was here with you, too. He never drank that much, but always indulged in a fruity cocktail or two. That, and he loved to chat up random strangers. Or rather, try to start arguments with them. He sat in between you and his latest debate partner, some human guy you couldn’t be bothered to remember the features of. Black hair, fair skin. Their discussion is what reeled you in from your thoughts, as even over the loud music blaring from the speakers, the two of them began to raise their voices. You couldn’t entirely make out what they were even talking about, but it was becoming hostile fast. You began to lean over to Kankri to tell him to chill out a bit, and then…
And then.
The dude fucking punched him.
It all happened so suddenly – Kankri fell back onto you with a startled yelp, and you caught him steady before both of you could tumble to the floor. He hissed in pain and covered his nose, but you could see a few stray drops of deep red blood splat onto the floor. The entire bar froze at the sudden commotion, the asshole guy yelling at Kankri to “
never fuckin’ talk to me like that again, you piece of shit.
”
Oh hell no. Hell fucking no. Maybe Kankri did have a tendency to overly criticize others, but surely whatever he said didn’t warrant being decked in the face. He was… a lot better nowadays in that regard. Regardless, you could feel your blood begin to boil, intensified by the alcohol in your system. You asked Kankri if he was okay as the bartender rushed to hand over some napkins to stop his nosebleed. He said he was fine. That was definitely a lie – his voice was quivering.
Kankri wasn’t a fighter, and you knew he was going to be the bigger person in his mind and not fight back. Already you could hear him sputtering out an apology for offending the guy, and you seethed.
Maybe Kankri wasn’t going to knock this guy on his ass, but you sure as hell were going to. He would be pissed at you for it later, but you didn’t care. He was hurt, and you were drunk and overprotective. You turned Kankri around and sat him in the seat you were just occupying to put some distance between him and the other guy.
You whipped back around and strode over to the guy, ignoring Kankri’s protests behind you. “Hey, what the fuck is your problem?”
The man took a good look at you, and scoffed. “You with him? Tell him to keep his fuckin’ mouth shut next time.”
“I think
you
–” You shoved him in the chest, causing him to take a few startled steps back. “-oughta keep your hands to yourself.”
He raised a brow at you, leaning forward to shove you back. You were, amazingly, able to stand your ground. Nice. Still, the dude didn’t look too happy at being provoked. “You’re a scrawny guy, aren’t ya? I could kick your fucking ass right now.”
You raised your fists in a cautious fighting stance. Even while inebriated, your coordination and reaction time was probably still good. “I can still pack a punch. You’re just lucky I didn’t bring my sword with me.”
“Oh yeah?” The guy’s face was red in drunken rage by that point, and he wasted no more time swinging a hefty arm at you, fist clenched.
After that, it was… a bit of a blur. You took a few good punches and kicks, and at some point the two of you ended up on the floor. There was a lot of yelling around you, whether they were cheering for one of you or in a panic you didn’t know and didn’t care. Eventually, you blacked out, either from the beating or from the drinks you’d had. Potentially both.
And you awoke to ice cold water raining hell down on you.
A less than dignified yelp escaped you as you scrambled to get away from the freezing pellets of water – coming from the showerhead, you realized as your eyes cracked open. Fuck, you had a headache.
“I. Cannot.
Believe
you, Dirk Strider,” Kankri promptly shut off the water, voice dripping with the tone he got when he was actually pissed. The back of your head thunked against the wall of the shower as you prepared for the incoming lecture shitstorm. “Here all I wanted to have a nice evening out with my partner, maybe indulge in a few soporific beverages, and ultimately enjoy myself, but
no
, apparently I cannot have one night of peace without you engaging in fisticuffs with a total stranger and causing a scene in public, and for what reason? Because he hit me? If I weren’t so upset right now I would find the very notion laughable. I have told you several times before that I do
not
need you to fight for my honor, and I am not a poor, helpless creature that needs protecting!”
“That’s not–” You started, the sound of your own groggy voice only furthering your pounding headache. “I know you aren’t. That’s not why I…”
“Then
why
, Dirk? Please, I would love to hear your explanation,” Kankri sat on top of the toilet seat, crossing his arms and glaring daggers into you.
“I don’t know, I don’t like seeing you get hurt, is that such a fucking crime?” You snapped, rubbing wearily at your face. “And don’t tell me it didn’t hurt. I know it did, I’ve been hit like that before.”
He almost looked… touched by your response, but of course he pushed it away with a
huff
. “What happened to me is nothing compared to the pummeling you took. I mean, you should be thankful we didn’t have to make a trip to the hospital, for god’s sake, and you are
also
–” He pointed a neatly filed claw at you. “--incredibly lucky I managed to talk the bartender out of calling the police and instead carried your sorry ass back home.”
Damn. He had a point – you would
not
have been very happy if you’d woken up in a jail cell instead of in the shower. Still, you were tired, your head hurt, and your face was starting to ache from whatever the hell happened to it. At least your shades would mostly cover your black eyes… Wait. You patted your face and felt a jolt of panic - you weren’t wearing your shades. No wonder everything seemed so fucking bright. Shit, did they break in the fight? Did you–
“I have your shades right here, by the way,” Kankri pulled the triangular pair from his pocket, unscathed, and presented them to you. “They were knocked off during the fight, and I snatched them up before they could get stepped on and broken. No need to look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Despite it all, a wave of warmth ran through you. You pissed him off to no end and just that small gesture showed how much he cared about you. Hell, you knew he was only mad
because
he cared.
You leaned forward and, before taking the shades from him, covered his palm with your own. “...I’m sorry.”
Kankri raised a brow at you, his cheeks turning a faint shade of red, and he sighed. “I’m just relieved you aren’t terribly hurt. You need to be more careful, don’t just go around fighting people so carelessly for
my
sake.”
“Yeah, yeah,” You rolled your eyes, slipping your shades back on and extending your arm out to him. “Help me up? I might actually freeze to death if I have to wear these clothes any longer.”
You caught the brief pang of guilt in Kankri’s face as he realized he’d showered you in cold water and then left you there. He quickly stood and grabbed hold of your hand, carefully hoisting you up onto your feet and wrapping an arm around your waist to help guide you out of the bathroom. “I suppose, since you apologized and all… You must be freezing. We’ll have to get some ice for your face, though.”
~