Work Text:
Meeting Subspace had to be one of the most surreal experiences of Skateboard’s life, and he’s not just saying that because he has a stupid crush. He thinks anyone would react the way he did (read: tapping out of an entire phight because he felt like he was about to explode) if the same thing happened to them.
The memory is as clear as day in his head: Skating at frankly dangerous speeds at an even more dangerous location just to distract the enemy team, sustaining a fair amount of injuries but keeping his momentum no matter what, feeling, as always, like he was on top of the world. And then, being launched off his board so suddenly he’s sure he got whiplash.
Admittedly, it wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened. Even when he’s alone, he gets too cocky and ends up scraping an arm or a leg or even finding blood when he checks on whatever injury he sustains. But this time was different. Instead of just being knocked off, he was lifted into the air and slammed back onto the ground before he could register being off his board at all.
No sooner than three seconds later, he was staring at a very, very annoyed looking Subspace.
He obviously knew he was on the other team, but there was no way, in any conceivable universe, that he imagined himself striking up any sort of conversation with him. Especially not when he was, you know, sitting absolutely dumbfounded at the edge of a platform over a really big and scary abyss thinking he was about to die. The world sure does work in funny ways!
“I would really, really appreciate it if you stopped being such an annoying little pest,” Subspace said. His voice was raspy and strained, muffled by his gas mask but still dripping with irritation.
Skateboard may have panicked a little. Just a little. The bolder part of him wanted to say something along the lines of, why don’t you make me? while the safer part of him wanted to say something corny and in-character, like, I slow down for no one! What came out instead was, “Why don’t— s-slow down.”
Even though most of Subspace’s face was hidden, he managed to look more irritated, exasperated, and on-the-verge-of-going-insane than any inphernal Skateboard has ever spoken to. And people look like those things a lot when Skateboard speaks to them.
“You know, I don’t think you wanna know what happens when you cross me.” Subspace lifted his leg and rested his foot on Skateboard’s chest. “So just stay out of my way, brat.”
And then he kicked him into the void.
Skateboard doesn’t remember the fall, or the respawn, or any call-outs from his teammates.
The only thing he remembers is thinking to himself, holy fucking shit.