Chapter Text
Blazewood sits at the edge of the Outer Ring, far from the lights of New Eridu. The city’s hum is nothing but a distant murmur, swallowed by an expanse of cracked highway and desert sprawl.
The motel Lighter calls home–once a roadside stop for travelers headed to the city–is now little more than a crumbling husk, claimed by the Sons of Calydon as a part of their turf. The second floor is barely holding together, the walkway lined with rusting railing and faded doorways leading to long-abandoned rooms.
Lighter and Wise lean against the only stable section of the railing–conveniently positioned in front of the room Lighter sleeps in–watching the endless stretches of desert under the night sky. The air is cool, carrying the scent of sand and gasoline. Crickets chirp somewhere off in the distance, filling the quiet between them.
Lighter shifts, stepping back and stretching his arms behind his head. “You ever think about getting out of New Eridu?” he asks, glancing at Wise. “I mean, for real. Ditchin’ all that city crap and moving somewhere, I dunno… Different?”
Wise raises an eyebrow. “Blazewood different? Or actually different?”
Lighter smirks. “Blazewood’s got its charm, don’t you think?”
“And what exactly would I do out here?” Wise asks, crossing his arms.
Lighter hums, pretending to think, “Oh, I dunno. Join the Sons of Calydon, maybe? I think you’d make a great raider, Manager.”
Wise huffs a quiet laugh. “You know I’m not built for that level of activity.”
“I’m sure the others would be happy to train you up to be as strong as me,” Lighter says.
Wise rolls his eyes. “And if I did join–hypothetically–would I get a leather jacket like yours?”
Lighter dusts off his jacket, flashing a cocky grin. “Why? You like it?”
Wise glances at the jacket, then back at Lighter. “Yeah, it suits you.”
Lighter’s eyes light up behind his shades. “What else? C’mon, can’t just leave it at that.”
Wise shrugs. “Your hair’s cool. It’s always styled so perfectly. Like you put work into it.”
Lighter’s grin deepens as he brushes his hair back with a swift motion, gloved fingers pushing through the teal locks like he’s fixing a crown. “Gotta keep sharp.” He gives a little nod, clearly pleased. “Thanks, Manager.”
They stand for a moment, the sounds of the desert filling the silence between them.
Wise turns to Lighter. “Do you ever care what people think of you?”
Lighter scoffs immediately. “What? Hell no.”
Wise raises an eyebrow. “Really? Not even a little?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know, man. I just don’t care what most people think. It’s not like it matters, right?”
Wise watches him. “Do you care what I think, then?” His voice is a little more curious now.
Lighter hesitates, running his hand through his hair. “I- yeah,” he admits, his gaze dropping for a second. “I guess I do.” He looks back up at Wise, his voice quieter. “I want you to think I’m cool. Manly, strong, all that crap.”
Wise observes him, processing the change in Lighter’s tone. “Why?” he asks, soft but probing.
Lighter runs a hand through his hair again, absent-mindedly now. “I dunno. You’re different. You don’t treat me like… like I’m the Champion or whatever.” He looks over at Wise, more serious now. “You’re not like the rest of these idiots who just follow me around because of that.”
“And you’re smart, and capable,” he continues. “You think for yourself. You actually get me. And… I dunno, it matters. It’s important to me. I want to be important to you. ”
Wise doesn’t say anything right away. His eyes flicker over Lighter’s face, reading the sincerity there. A slow, knowing smile tugs at the corner of his lips.
“That so?” he says, his voice the slightest bit teasing.
Lighter exhales sharply, burying his face in his hands. “Don’t start. I already regret saying all that out loud.”
Wise chuckles. “Too late.” He crosses his arms, leaning forward back onto the railing. “Besides, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with wanting to be important to someone.”
Lighter gives him a side glance, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. “That your way of saying I’m important to you?”
Wise doesn’t answer right away. He just huffs softly, looking out at the stretch of desert before them. “It’s getting late,” he says instead. “I should start heading back to the city soon.”
Lighter’s smirk falters, just for a second, before he pushes off the railing. “Yeah?”
Wise nods. “Yeah.”
Lighter watches him for a moment, then shrugs. “You could just crash here, y’know.”
Wise raises an eyebrow. “In your rundown motel room?”
Lighter grins, all confidence again, “C’mon, it’s got some charm. Plus, it’s a long drive back. Hate to have my precious Proxy veering off the road ‘cuz they were too tired to focus.”
Wise crosses his arms. “You really want me to stay the night here?”
Lighter nods. Wise lets out a reluctant sigh. “Fine.”
Lighter’s smile widens. “That’s the spirit.” He jerks his head towards the door. “C’mon, I’ll let you take the less shitty side of the bed.”
Wise snorts. “How generous.”
With that, they head inside, the desert sky stretching on behind them.