Work Text:
Chuuya has met a great many people in his life. Kids for the most part, sure, but also a huge circus carousel full of people who defy the very notion of sanity. And yet. Yet, it seems there are still a great many lunatics Chuuya has to have the absolute displeasure of meeting.
Exhibit A. Albatross. Full name yet to be disclosed. Terrible upstairs neighbour and newest pain in Chuuya’s ass.
Fun fact, river water is much more disgusting than the ocean will ever be. At least there, the water isn’t a murky brown. You can’t see the bottom because it’s too deep, not because it’s full of shit.
Albatross is laughing, light and heady while Chuuya struggles to breathe. This is the second time he’s had to swim back from a job Albatross dragged him to. His throat burns from the water he almost drowned in, his scalp aches because the older boy decided to pull him out by grabbing his hair. His arms are fucking sore. Chuuya would murder him but he’s the only one who can get them home within the next few hours.
“Who’d have thought he’d have back up, am I right? Still coming after us when their boss died. Mindless dogs.” He turns to Chuuya, sunglasses still on his face. “Ah but no matter, Chuuya, that was much more fun than we’ve had in a while, don’t you agree?”
Chuuya scowls. Albatross laughs some more and swims to him.
“Aww don’t be grumpy little man,” he says, poking his cheek. “Come on, we’ll get home and I’ll treat us to lunch. Or dinner. Whatever time we get there.”
“Don’t call me that!” he yells, water splashing as he slaps his hand.
“Mm-hmm, sure.” It’s like he’s indulging a child. “What do you want? Ohh I bet you’ve never been to the Thai place down the street. Their shrimp soup is to die for, you’ll love it.” He continues talking about the restaurant and the time Doc ate something he was allergic to and almost died as they swim upstream and away from the crime scene.
Today was the same as any other. Waking up at the ass-crack of dawn courtesy of Albatross, checking his emails, sending out instructions. But then, the racket upstairs stopped and instead entered his own apartment.
“You’re helping me with work!” Albatross had declared loudly before giving him ten minutes to get ready and leave. Work being getting revenge on some bigshot businessman who decided to betray their end of a goods deal Chuuya hadn’t bothered listening to the details of.
He didn’t even do anything, took out a couple of guards while Albatross shot their boss. It was too early in the morning for murder, or too late, however you look at it.
“Yeah whatever,” Chuuya says. “All I need right now is a bath. Get us home.”
“Aye, aye, captain!” he gives him a sloppy salute, swimming ahead.
It takes another half hour before they climb out near a highway, Albatross somehow talking the entire time. Chuuya lies down in the sparse grass, his body turned to jelly. He doesn’t get up as the blond boy wrings out his clothes.
“Ay Chuuya, what’re you doing on the ground?”
“Resting jackass, what else?” He doesn’t mention how he isn’t confident he can walk without tripping.
“Well the chopper’s here. If you don’t get up I’ll leave without you.”
There’s the distant sound of blades coming closer. When he had the time to call them, Chuuya has no clue. He has to shut his eyes against the flying dirt and grass as the helicopter lands.
Once it’s settled, Albatross calls him again. Chuuya sighs and stands. In a strange way he feels like he’s still bobbing in the river. The feeling doesn’t subside until they’re high up in the air, the river far behind them, the blond boy chattering away with no end in sight.
They reach home in ten minutes, the restaurant within the hour and Chuuya can’t help wondering what his life’s come to.
The shrimp soup is amazing.
--------------------------
Before Pianoman ever approached Chuuya, he met Albatross. His fifth day saw a delay in some shipments. This was before he’d been handed the jewel trade. Instead of waiting for the mailmen to shuffle between them he’d gone straight to Albatross’ office. Stupid in hindsight. Very stupid when there were twenty something underlings who’d have helped him just fine. But he was angry and grieving and determined and in pain, his stomach not healed entirely.
Albatross had squinted for a few seconds, then grinned and thrown a knife beside his head. Chuuya didn’t flinch. He kept talking, Albatross considering him until his amusement became apparent to Chuuya.
They stared at each other after he was done. With no indicator at all, a switch flipped and the older boy started chattering as he’s known to, promising to fix the issue, patting his shoulder like an old friend leaving Chuuya with the urge to slap his arm away.
As he left the office Albatross said one last thing. “You know, I like you kid. I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of each other soon.”
Chuuya didn’t reply.
Pianoman approached him about The Young People’s Association that weekend.
--------------------------
“First thing. Have you ever been on a motorcycle?”
Chuuya knows he knows the answer. If this is a way to make him feel inferior or something it’s a real bad attempt. But Albatross is smiling in that sunny way of his and Chuuya hasn’t felt any malice directed towards him. So he answers no, eyeing the bright yellow bike with distrust.
“Well it’s simple, you sit comfortably, don’t keep your spine stiff, don’t squirm too much, hold on and—” he gives him a look more serious than Chuuya’s seen from him, “— wear your helmet.”
Chuuya raises an eyebrow.
“Heyy don’t give me that look. Do whatever you want when you’re on your own but while you’re my passenger you wear a helmet, overpowered ability or not.”
“And explain why you don’t have one?” Chuuya flicks his eyes to the bike then back. There’s only one red helmet in sight. Unless Albatross pulls another one out of his ass. He might.
Chuuya doesn’t give a shit about wearing it, but the hypocrisy grates on him. It should be some twisted power move– as much as being more protected could give him… less power– but Albatross has yet to be anything other than annoying and rude and overly energetic.
“I know how to drive my guy and I know how to crash, blocks my peripheral anyways.” He waves a hand, mounting the bike. “Now come on, our job won’t wait all day.”
“Your job,” he grumbles, getting on. The redirection is weak at best and a simple, ‘I don’t want to,’ would’ve worked. But he’s learnt to pick his battles, moreso in the mafia, so he lets it go. For now.
The helmet is snug, and no, it does not block your peripherals. Though, Chuuya does put the visor up.
He holds onto the edge of the seat beneath him, whatever little grip that is. Albatross clicks his tongue and Chuuya stares at the back of his leather jacket. Gingerly he places his hands on Albatross’ sides and feels him chuckling beneath him.
“What?”
“Nothing, nothing. You good to go?”
He places his feet on the footrests and says yes.
The engine starts. Chuuya has a second to appreciate the rumbling beneath him before they shoot off. He yelps, wrapping his arms around Albatross in panic.
The boy whoops loudly, speeding up more, his laughter flying back on the wind.
“They didn't call me Wheelman for nothin’, Chuuya,” he somehow manages to hear.
“Asshole!” Chuuya yells, squeezing him just this side of too much.
Albatross laughs again. Chuuya straightens to look around, using a hint of Tainted so he doesn’t have to cling to the other boy as tight.
They're weaving through leftover traffic from rush hour, night taking over from twilight. Bright, colourful signs call for his attention, streetlights passing in a calm rhythm. It's the same city it's always been but somehow being on a bike makes it different. Like removing the glass windows got rid of a barrier between him and the world. It steals his breath away, a wave of stillness settling in him.
And the speed.
God, the speed.
He could compare the rush he felt to battle, but better, because nobody's life is on the line. It's just them and the wind and this impossible machine beneath them.
As the roads start to clear out, Albatross goes faster, until they're well over a hundred twenty, the city nothing but a flurry of lights for them to leave behind.
Chuuya whoops like Albatross did, the other joining him.
He wants to take off his helmet, the familiar rush of wind in his hair calling to him. He doesn’t, following Albatross’ wish.
It’s over too soon, disappointment crashing through him when they slow down. He could've stayed there forever.
Albatross parks, turns to Chuuya as he takes off his helmet.
“So? What d'ya think?”
Chuuya grabs his shoulders, meets his eyes. “You have got to teach me how to ride. That was fucking sick!”
Albatross beams.
--------------------------
Albatross is laughing at him.
“I wasn’t expecting you to be a prude,” he howls, banging the counter with a fist.
“Shut the fuck up you moron,” he yells, arms folded and face turned away.
“You're so red, oh my god, Chuuya.”
“I told you to shut up!”
“Oh but you are, aww is the little baby flustered. Can't handle some kissies.” He squishes his own cheeks and makes obnoxious smooching noises until Chuuya shoves a hand in his face and he falls off his stool and to no one’s surprise, starts laughing again.
That's what Lippmann walks in on.
They make eye contact. Chuuya's flaming blush makes a spectacular comeback.
Albatross’ legs are kicking the air. He looks insane.
Look. Chuuya has seen some nasty shit on the streets. He's seen people getting it down dirty, in as many positions and places as possible. He feels disgust at worst, indifference at best. As long as they were out of their territory and not in the middle of the road he didn't give a single fuck. There were plenty of couples in the Sheep too and most weren't discreet with their PDA.
He was walking to Old World with Albatross and they happened upon Lippmann in an alleyway getting his face sucked off by some random dude. He was in a wig, coming back from a shoot or a job but there was no mistake it was him.
Both of them had frozen for a second, not really sure what to do but gape. Then somebody's hand reached for somebody's pants and Chuuya was dragging Albatross away, not leaving him until they reached the billiards bar, blood high on his cheeks.
He doesn't know why this was affecting him of all things. He keeps reminding himself he's seen worse but his brain is stuck on that image of Lippmann and the alley and he wants to die right fucking now please and thank you.
Albatross sits up, still giggle drunk. “Ooo loverboy, had fun didn't you? That guy was eating your face man, it was hilarious.”
Lippmann looks as put together as always, his wig gone. You wouldn't even suspect he'd just arrived from an alleyway romp.
He settles on Chuuya's left, replies as graceful as ever, “It was quite lovely, thanks for asking.” Like he wasn’t caught in the act and wasn’t just asked the most rude, embarrassing question.
Chuuya feels his ears go red, suddenly very interested in the grain of the bar counter as Lippmann's gaze falls on him.
“I've seen worse things,” he announces to no one in particular.
Lippmann gives an indulgent hum. Albatross— that fucker, he better sleep with one eye open— falls into another fit of laughter.
He puts his chin in his palm, glaring at the rows of alcohol. The whiskey bottle looks like it could deal a good amount of damage to a head. “Nothin's funny,” he grumbles.
Albatross tries to quiet down. Every time he seems to be done, a new round of laughter falls from his lips.
Chuuya scowls, mood souring.
Out of the corner of his eye he sees Lipmann move to look at them.
“It is quite embarrassing to see someone you know in that sort of position,” he says.
Chuuya thinks wasting beer would be better than expensive whiskey.
“No matter what you've seen,” Lippmann continues, “There's a difference between strangers and friends.”
Chuuya ignores that word.
Lippmann doesn’t speak again. He chances a glance to his left.
Lippmann's cheek is cupped in his palm, turned to him with a look on his face. If Chuuya didn't know better he'd call it fond.
“Besides, I personally would puke if I saw Albatross kissing anybody.” Lippmann smirks, “If he could even manage to seduce someone, that is.”
Chuuya snorts, Tross’ indignant cries fill the room.
“Ah, Chuuya doesn't know about the time he asked a girl to— “
“STOP!” ‘Tross shrieks.
“— be his forever bab—”.
The boy has Lippmann's collar in his fist, threatening him with a kukri knife, the other with his hands up, expression serene.
“If you ever—” He yelps as Lippmann dislodges him and sits on Chuuya's other side.
Albatross lunges with a louder shriek. The taller dodges with ease, leaving the shorter on the floor in a heap, glasses askew and leg stuck in a stool. He’s cursing Lippmann, trying to free his leg and threatening things that would have lesser men cowering in fear.
Chuuya breaks into pealing laughter, tears gathering in his eyes.
When he looks back up, both of them are staring at him.
“What?” he wipes his eyes, still smiling.
With a start, it occurs to him he hasn't laughed in… ages.
“Albatross,” Chuuys says, mirth in his voice. “Hearing you shriek, I might have to agree with Lippmann.” Albatross shrieks again. “You'll never find a partner at this rate.”
Chuuya jumps off his stool, only just avoiding angry hands.
They play chase around the bar until Chuuya finally gives in and lets himself be caught. Albatross pulls his arms behind his back, knee digging between his shoulder blades.
“Take it back.”
“Do you want me to be a liar?”
Albatross pulls some more. Chuuya bucks and flips them over, sitting himself down on his chest using a smidge of gravity to weigh him down.
“This is cheating,” he whines. “Lippmann, he's using his ability.”
Lippmann sips something from a mug he got from who knows where. “I don't know what you're talking about.”
Albatross yells at the betrayal.
“Yield,” Chuuya says, a smug smile on his face.
Albatross looks at Lippmann helplessly. The man shrugs.
“Yield,” Chuuya repeats.
“Okay fine I yield.”
Chuuya smirks and flicks his forehead before getting off of him.
They sit back down on either side of Lippman, smiles bright on their faces.
--------------------------
Chuuya’s eyes are being assaulted by the corridor’s lights
“It's three in the fucking morning,” says Chuuya, at three in the fucking morning.
Albatross stands in his doorway, toothy smile on display like it isn't three in the morning after his week long foreign job. His eyes burn.
“And I'm out of salt.”
“Why do you need salt at three in the morning?”
“To make food.”
“Aren't there other people on your floor?”
“Yes.”
Chuuya groans and shuts the door. Albatross starts knocking again. He opens it, eyes narrowed.
“I'll make you breakfast?”
Chuuya groans again and steps aside.
“You know where the kitchen is, do whatever, don't burn my house down.”
He settles down on the couch, hoping to sleep again in the darkness of the living room. Of course he doesn’t. He can’t sleep when there’s half a stranger in his house, looking for salt an hour and a half before his usual rude awakening.
After ten minutes of drawers opening and closing he yells, “The fuck are you doing? Salt’s on the counter, dimwit.”
Instead of an answer, the stove turns on.
“Haaah?” Chuuya gets up, ready to end the older boy. “I told you not to burn my house down. What the hell are you doing?”
Albatross turns to him, expression innocent in the bright kitchen light. “I’m making you coffee.”
Chuuya glares— half squinting because of the light— Tainted glowing in a subtle threat.
“This is such a nice apartment, Chuuya. Don’t you want to be awake for your next job?”
“You mean awake for your job that you’re dragging me along to?” He growls, the red glow crawling up his arm.
“No, for your job that I’m dragging you along to.”
Chuuya blinks, his ability released. He is not awake enough for this. There’s no new mail with a job for him, his phone has been blessedly silent for six hours. What did Chuuya do to deserve this?
“Stop saying shit and let me sleep, ‘Tross,” he mumbles, leaning against the wall.
“Sooo, you don’t want to learn how to drive a bike?”
That gets his attention.
Chuuya asked to be taught two months ago and they’ve both been swamped in jobs since.
“Hmm, too bad then. I could’ve sworn there were stars in your eyes that first time you rode one. I remember you specifically asking me—”
“Oh my god, fine. Give me the damn coffee.”
He doesn’t smile. Anyone who says that is a liar.
--------------------------
They both chugged their coffees and Albatross drove them to an isolated road in the grey area outside the edge of a mafia owned district. It’s right beside the abandoned shipyards and infamous for being fighting grounds between criminal organisations. Only the most desperate of squatters come here, not even daring to stay more than a brief night, what with the violence and unstable buildings.
Albatross came close to killing them eighteen times on the way there, which is thrice his usual rate. Chuuya resorted to using his ability much to the boy’s (dramatic) annoyance.
Albatross on caffeine is the same and also drastically different from drunk Albatross.
He’s hyper, for one. Speaking a mile a minute, too fast for even a caffeinated Chuuya to keep up with.
“Dude, you will not believe the utter bullshit that the Sujimoto family’s cooking up. They’re trying to usurp the young master like an olden day coup, but with lawyers and cellphones, it’s insane.” His gestures are wild, arms too close to hitting his face. “And there’s this girl who works as a babysitter, but she’s really just an underpaid nanny at this point, she’s my informant. I met her like, right before I came to get you, like. Two thirty, I think? And guess what she tells me?”
“What?”
“The middle one, Takahashi, who just got engaged?” Chuuya’s thankful he’s clearing everything up ‘cause he can not keep up with this family. “He was sleeping with both of the family cooks.”
“Togeth—”
“No! Separately! He’s cheating on three different people, even if two of them already know he’s engaged. All in the same house! It’s like a soap opera! But real!”
The buildings and road are deserted, Albatross’ voice echoing between them. No one’s around to listen so he lets Albatross talk at his ear splitting volume.
“Mm-hmm.” Chuuya tries to wrap his mind around it. Politicians are fucked in the head. “Wait. You said you met your informant at two thirty and you were at my house by three. Which means you made an hour and a half’s journey in thirty minutes?”
“Again, Chuuya. Called me Wheelman? Head of anything faster than a strides pace? Albatross? Yours truly? Standing right here.”
“Even with shortcuts, the speed you’d have to—”
“Speed? Chuuya I am speed. The very definition of it. No one’s faster than me. See. I’m here. Now I’m here. Imagine me on my sexy ass motorcycle. Yeah? I tuned her up last night. That’s speed.”
Chuuya stares. Blinks. Stares some more.
“You’ve had too much coffee, ‘Tross.”
He nods aggressively, eyes wide and without his sunglasses for once.
“I drank two last night, then I accidentally made extra at yours and I thought, ‘Hmm, that would be a waste of coffee,’ and drank it, ‘cause y’know, wasting coffee is a sin.”
“Like you care about sin,” he mutters, then louder because Albatross won’t stop until he does something, “C’mon let’s do this.”
He slings his leg over the bike, hands on the handle bars.
“So?” He raises an eyebrow because he knows it’s not as simple as turning on the engine and just going.
Albatross walks him through the controls. To his surprise, both the brakes are not brakes, the left one’s a clutch and the second brake's below his right foot.
The rest of it is straightforward. He waddles around on the bike without turning the engine on, he has a gear shifting quiz, which involves him shifting to the gear Albatross yells and that doesn’t last long before Chuuya loses his patience. By the time he’s able to drive it straight without losing his balance (Without Tainted thank you very much), an hour has passed and Albatross is handing him water he got from God knows where.
“Great job, Chuuya!” He says, hitting his shoulder more than patting it. Chuuya almost chokes on the water.
The sky has taken on a brighter shade of blue and it won’t be long before the sun rises. He hasn’t really seen the sunrise in a while, either neck deep in a job or buried under his covers to escape the walking disaster that is Albatross and his morning rituals.
He’s about to suggest they go watch it, maybe even have Chuuya drive them since the roads would still be empty, when a small explosion rocks them from a few buildings away.
“Haah?”
There’s complete silence after. Like the explosion never happened in the first place. No screaming. No buildings collapsing.
They look at each other, then back at the building. Albatross shrugs and walks towards it. Chuuya follows.
The buildings around them are old and pure concrete. They were made without planning, all mish-mashed and ugly without any breathing space. People built and settled here during the war, when the government couldn’t be arsed about overseeing urban planning.
They’d come here expecting quiet. And to prevent Chuuya from commiting unintentional murder. Albatross’ arm was sporting a lovely new bruise over that comment.
All in all, whatever petty skirmishes happen here (most things seem insignificant when you work for the Port Mafia), they’re all out in plain sight, not hidden in the buildings because they were made with no regulation and in danger of falling at all times.
The front door of the place is intact, a major feat for any door in this place. Chuuya doesn’t want to touch it. Neither does Albatross. They stare at it.
As if to answer their non-existent prayers, it opens on its own. Out of instinct they jump away. All that comes out is a person running and yelling FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK a trail of something metallic and yellow falling to the ground behind them.
One of those things rolls towards Chuuya’s boot, gives it a gentle tap and stops.
“A lemon?” Chuuya asks, the smell of gunpowder floating through the air.
“Holy fucking shit,” whispers Albatross.
In the next moment his wrist is being grabbed, Albatross yanking him back to the bike.
“Holy fucking shit!” He yells. “Chuuya those are BOMBS protect us and the fucking bike, oh my God it’s that BASTARD.” Then he turns around and yells at the person while they run, “Motherfucker I told you something but you didn’t listen to me! Look where that got you! How many buildings have you destroyed? How many, HUH?”
Chuuya has just touched the bike when two things happen at once.
The person with honest to God lemon bombs replies with a faint but potent, “FUCK OFF!”
The bombs go off.
The ground shakes under them. He can’t even pay attention to Albatross clinging to him as the force of the tremors hits them. By some miracle, the surrounding buildings don’t collapse and nothing bigger than a decently sized rock comes their way.
Early sunlight filters through the smoke, illuminating everything in a dusty haze as smoke settles around them..
The road in front of them is decimated, a deep gouge in the Earth that will be swarming with police in ten minutes. Chuuya hopes they won’t have any breakfast because the pieces they’re gonna find of that person—
No way.
The person— a young man with a terrible haircut— is standing in the wreckage unharmed.
What the hell is his ability?
Albatross lets go of him and stalks towards the not-stranger. The other’s muttering under his breath, ignoring any call for his attention.
Chuuya follows because it wouldn’t be a good day for anyone if Albatross got a bomb to the face.
“Oi.” Albatross wacks the back of the dude’s head. “What the fuck?”
“Ugh, shut up, a bonehead like you wouldn’t understand the depths of my scientific research.”
“You call that research?” Chuuya butts in.
“Of course! Don’t you see? I can control the intensity of my bombs! See, there, the holes aren’t as deep compared to here—”
While crazy lemonhead keeps blabbing, he nudges Albatross.
“What’s up with him?”
“His bombs don’t affect him.”
“Then how come the debris didn’t hurt him? He’s only got small scratches.”
Albatross shrugs, arms crossed and looking at the guy, eyebrow twitching. Interesting.
“Stop talking about me like I’m not here,” Lemon man screeches. “And you.” He points. “Why are you here? I came here because it’s always abandoned. Are you stalking me?”
He’s pressing his index to Albatross’ chest and he’s taller so he’s hunched over to get their faces on the same level. They look ridiculous. Lemon man’s face twisted in rage, Albatross serene as ever, his annoyance only visible to Chuuya.
A knife slips out of his friend’s sleeve, its point resting at the hollow of Lemon man’s throat, his other hand holding up his collar.
“No, I’m not. We’ve met again by unfortunate circumstance. Now. You do remember my babies, right?”
He hasn’t seen Albatross’ ability, all he knows it has to do with dinosaurs. With the way Lemon man pales, he knows them well.
“Good,” his friend smiles, “Did you think of my offer yet?”
Ah. They’re gonna recruit him. Fuck. Chuuya doesn’t want to be here.
“Not really.” Lemon man’s a bad liar. He’s raised his arms in the air.
“And has that other guy approached you again? What was his name Nara—”
“No,” the man hisses. “No. I told you. Nobody finds me. I haven’t stayed out of everything all these years out of dumb luck.”
“Well you’re pretty bad at it seeing—”
Chuuya sighs then. “Anybody gonna tell me what’s up with both of you?”
Lemon man stays quiet. Albatross turns his head, gives him a shit eating grin and goes, “Nah.”
“What?”
“No, Chuuya. It’s a long story and we don’t have the time before I meet up with the Boss.”
“You were going to make me breakfast!”
Albatross opens his mouth at the same time as Lemon man when someone yells, “FREEZE!”
They all turn to the noise. A dishevelled, groggy looking police officer stands with a gun pointed at them. They look back at each other, a mutual understanding passing between them.
“Scram!” Albatross yells and they shoot off in different directions. “I’ll meet you again Mr. Bomber! Don’t get caught!” he laughs.
The officer chases after Albatross, the latter in hysterics, taunting the man.
“Chuuya! Take the bike!”
“You’re serious?” He yells, making for the bike anyways.
“I’m right behind you!”
Chuuya gets on, starting the engine. A weight settles behind him, yelling GO GO GO!
Just then, police cars come to a stop in front of them.
“Keep going Chuuya, drive between them”
Never one to back down, Chuuya revs the acceleration. Car doors slam shut at their sudden speed. They make it through, Albatross hollering amid the squealing of car tires.
“Lean forward, trust me,” he calls over the wind.
He does just that, a small nudge from Tainted to be safe. He doesn’t know what it is about the position but it has more adrenaline pumping through him, a grin etching itself onto his face and they go faster.
His friend grabs his middle yelling unintelligible things.
Sirens blare behind them. He takes a few wide turns, Albatross guiding him through the sharper ones. The only reason they haven’t died is because of his ability.
He panics when he sees traffic up ahead. The sun is well and fully up, the city awake and roads starting to crawl with the morning commute even at its outskirts.
“‘Tross?” Chuuya asks.
“Join the traffic at the edge, change lanes to the other side of the road and we’ll be right at an alley that leads to the tea shop behind Doc’s clinic.”
His eyebrows raise. He had no idea there even was a road that could get them there this easy.
The police are saying things through their speakers. The usual drivel. In the meantime they reach the intersection, Chuuya merging with the morning rush. Only one car honks at him. That number increases as he shifts lanes. A glance in the rearview mirror shows two police cars gaining on them.
“How far’s the alley?”
“Pass by two right turns.”
One car’s come close, another one between them. The first turn comes up ahead. Chuuya picks up their speed. He’s pretty sure Albatross is flipping off the cops.
A police car emerges from the turn, from the wrong fucking side and stops right in front of them.
“Hold on!” He yells.
He decreases the gravity on the bike while accelerating forward until they jump clear over the car, the rear wheel hitting the roof as they descend back down, multiple cars crashing into each other with the sudden appearance of them and the police car. Chuuya winces.
From there it’s simple to shoot down the narrow alley, just avoiding scraping against a wall.
He slows to a reasonable speed as he finds his way to Doc’s clinic through the semi-familiar streets.
They park in a hidden corner. Once they get off adrenaline still high, they turn to each other, eyes sparkling.
“Chuuya, that was epic,” Albatross says as they walk. They enter the clinic through the back door. “Yo, Doc! Guess who was in their first car chase!”
“It was insane Doc, you had to see it. I learnt how to drive a bike like, an hour ago! We were so fast, the police had no chance.”
There’s a crash. Doc emerges from between two cupboards, looking like he just woke up. His IV stand trails behind him, then tugs at his wrist until he remembers to pull it along.
“Haven’t you ridden planes, Chuuya-kun? From the outside?” Mumbles Doc. He fumbles with a syringe before sticking it in his arm and emptying its contents. Chuuya’s own arm twinges.
“Yeah but I was the one driving this one. And it had wheels.”
“You can fly, Chuuya-kun.”
“Oh let him have this, Doc.” He ruffles Chuuya’s head and Chuuya swats him away. “Our boy’s doing so well.” He wipes away a fake tear. “I’m so proud.”
Chuuya punches him. Not hard enough to do anything. “Shut up.”
Doc looks far more awake now. He steps in front of them.
“Now. Albatross-kun,” Doc says in a stern voice. Albatross stiffens. Huh. “What have I said about making a racket in my clinic?”
His eyes dart around, not looking at Doc. “Don’t?”
Doc gives him a deadpan stare.
“Forgive me, Sensei.” He bows a full ninety degrees and claps his hands above his head. “We were just high on adrenaline is all. Won’t happen again.”
Chuuya looks between them for a solid second then bows too. He peeks a little to look at Doc’s expression.
Doc waves a dismissive hand. “None of that. Be careful next time or I’ll ban you from here unless you’re dying Albatross-kun. Understood? You’re lucky I had no patients overnight. Now. Didn’t you have to meet the Boss?”
Albatross shoots up. “Fuck.”
“And you’re already late. News of your chase should’ve reached Boss by now. Inform him of the situation, you’ll have to stay here and lie low for the time being. You can sleep in the infirmary, you look like you’re about to fall over.”
Chuuya stares at his face, brows furrowed. He doesn’t really see it. The almost manic energy from the coffee is gone. And now that the adrenaline is fading, he does seem a little pale.
“You too, Chuuya-kun. I’m sure he hasn’t let you sleep either.” Despite his chiding tone, Doc’s face is soft when he looks at Albatross. Chuuya turns away.
“Come, Chuuya,” Albatross says.
They settle into beds beside each other, Doc pulling the curtains for them. Albatross is out in ten seconds flat.
Doc goes to the other room, muttering about paperwork. Chuuya resigns himself to laying there for a few hours.
He doesn’t sleep, but it’s a near thing. If he looks brighter the rest of the day, no one says a thing.
--------------------------
“So, ‘Tross. Who was Lemon man anyway?”
“It’s a long story.”
“That’s what you said the last five times.”
“And I’ll tell you when we have the time. It’s a long story.”
“You’re annoying.”
“You love it.”
“I do not! I’d rather beat you to death with a stick!”
“Whatever you say, little man.”
“I told you to stop calling me that!”
Chuuya’s screech is heard throughout the entirety of Mori Corporations. Chuuya pounces on Albatross, both of them tumbling to the floor, right at the feet of one unimpressed Ozaki Kouyou.
Chuuya hides his face with his hat. Albatross laughs.
Kouyou smiles a secret smile, warmth in her chest as she watches her charge.