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“Hm.” Clown reached out, adjusting Branzy’s collar. “Acceptable, I suppose. How does it feel?”
Branzy shifted his weight from foot to foot, biting back a nervous smile. Now probably wasn’t the time.
“Pretty nice. Definitely fits.”
“I meant more than the clothes.”
“Oh. Uh-“ Branzy hesitated, forcing his hand away from adjusting any part of the suit himself. “What?”
It was a nice suit. Nicer than he’d normally be able to afford. And the collar was merely his shirt collar, despite Branzy’s gut feeling Clown wouldn’t mind it being something a little more possessive. But that wasn’t his style, and, truthfully, Branzy wasn’t sure he would have entirely kept his composure if he was introduced to the country’s underworld with a collar around his neck.
“How do you feel?” Clown’s voice softened, even if there was no visible change, not with his face hidden behind the same mask as always. “Scared?”
“Uh- yeah. A bit. But excited too. You’re- I can stay with you, right?”
“Of course. Don’t want you getting lost.”
“Then-“ Branzy did try a small smile, considerably more cheerful than he was really feeling. “Yeah. I feel pretty good.”
Excited, yes. Scared out of his goddamn mind, also, yes. But Branzy knew that if he had to go to this thing- and he still didn’t know exactly what it was- there was practically no one better to be going with than his partner.
“Good. You’re going to stay with me, and don’t talk to anyone unless I’ve told you who they are. Ok?”
The businesslike tone snapped Branzy to attention somewhat, and he nodded immediately, expression serious, even as his heart fluttered.
“Yep. Clear as day.”
Clown chuckled, a sound that still set Branzy’s nerves on edge. If that still freaked him out, he was in for a tough night. But he’d manage. He wanted to prove himself, in some way.
“Alright then. Ready?”
“Mhm.”
Finally giving in to his nerves, Branzy compulsively smoothed over his waistcoat, breathing in and out in the way he’d taught himself. He was going to be fine. Clown was right here, by his side. No one was going to hurt him.
Clown nodded, and turned to lead the way outside, to the idling car. Branzy followed without hesitation, partially because there was nowhere else to go, and partially because he really did want to make Clown happy, tonight more than ever. This was important. He had to be exactly who he was meant to be, no fuck ups or mistakes.
He ducked into the backseat, noticing a moment too late he was alone there, Clown at the front. That was fine. He was fine. He had nothing to do but believe it was going to be fine.
Out of pure nerves, Branzy start fiddling with the cufflink on his sleeve. A jester’s hat, the closest Clown would actually get to a collar. Branzy was fairly sure that those, or something else about his person, had a tracker in, but he wasn’t about to argue. Frankly, if it kept him safer, he had no arguments to give.
They started driving, as soon as Branzy managed to get his seatbelt on with slightly shaking fingers, and he felt his eyes drifting to the window. But as soon as he actually tried to look outside, it abruptly turned black, and Branzy heard himself make a small noise of surprise.
“No looking.” Clown sounded like he was smiling, and the lack of comment from the driver made Branzy wonder if they were here voluntarily. “You don’t need to know where we’re going.”
Branzy sunk back into his seat, feeling slightly chastened. His cheeks were hot, definitely, but Clown hadn’t sounded angry. It was probably fine. Just one of those control things his partner was so fond of.
For lack of anything better to do, Branzy found himself staring rather intently at the back of his partner’s head. For anyone else, it would have been weird, and maybe it still was, but Branzy had a long running internal debate as to whether Clown’s horns were another part of his mask, or real. He’d believe it, if they were the latter. He’d seen stranger things, working with the mercenary.
And it was working with, at this point. It had never really been working for, not when Clown had borderline headhunted him from the dead end programming job he’d had. Branzy had been terrified, at the start- and still was, in different way- but he’d warmed to the arrangement. After it became clear there was no getting out of it. Funny what a lack of choice did to your inclinations.
“You’re staring.”
Branzy dropped his gaze, biting his tongue hard. Clown was probably as stressed as he was, under all those masks. But he couldn’t help the feeling that his partner was pushing him, penning him into a corner until his nerves turned to indignation.
Which they wouldn’t. If this was a test, Branzy intended to pass it. He’d just have to… hold his tongue, for once in his life, and play nice. If he could do that.
And if he couldn’t, well, he might be dead before he got to feel too guilty about letting Clown down.
The car pulled up a gravel driveway. Branzy carefully didn’t look out of the windows, didn’t look up at all, behaving to the point of impertinence as he waited for his master’s word.
Which, irritatingly enough, Clown provided, opening the car door for him and holding out a hand.
“Branzy? Are you scared yet?”
Branzy just smiled, a little of the puppyish charm Clown always seemed to like from him peeking through as he swung out of the car.
Clown hummed, noting his silence, and didn’t let go of Branzy’s hand for a beat too long.
“I need you to behave, tonight. If you have any issues with me or this, best to get them out now before you cause a scene.”
Branzy scuffed his feet on the pebbles, listening to the car pull away, leaving them alone on the driveway. That was a free pass, and they both knew it. Clown didn’t mess around when it came to amnesties.
“Can you just- act like I’m human? At least a bit.”
For a moment, he saw an actual tension in Clown’s posture, and Branzy was sure something had flickered in his expression. But it passed, and Clown merely nodded.
“Ok. Anything else?”
Glancing up, Branzy shrugged, lips quirking.
“Nope. All good.”
Clown studied him for a moment more, then nodded again, turned, and walked straight inside, leaving Branzy to follow after him like a lost puppy.
——————
Branzy… may have underestimated how terrifying this was going to be.
He faintly recognised maybe half of the crowd- from police reports, which wasn’t at all unsettling- but the other half was entirely new. And scary. Very, very scary.
It really was remarkable, how severe a condition mortality seemed when he was surrounded by people who seemed to have surpassed it.
Branzy was very, very grateful he had Clown. Even without his partner’s orders, he wasn’t leaving his side for the world, much less some random, masked person who caught his eye.
“Who’s the puppy?”
An elegant giggle brought Branzy back to earth, and he twitched slightly, realising they were talking about him.
Clown looked over his shoulder, where Branzy was lingering like the most nervous shadow, and tilted his head, chuckling.
“His name’s Branzy. He’s my… partner.”
“Oh, a partner?”
Clown nodded, providing no clarification. On one hand, Branzy respected the guts necessary for that. On the other, his survival instincts were screaming for his partner to not even risk offending these people.
Either way, he bit his tongue- literally, he’d almost drawn blood a few times- and smiled, as cheerful and unthreatening as he could muster. The masked ladies cooed, and one of them reached out, petting his cheek affectionately.
“Well, let us know if you find another. Smart, or is he really just for the looks?”
In a fluid motion, Clown snatched her hand out of the air, twisting her wrist until she yelped, flinching away in mixed horror and outrage.
Branzy relaxed slightly, flashing his partner a timid smile, but Clown was already guiding him away.
“Don’t let them touch you.” His partner’s voice was a low murmur, halfway between a hiss and a growl. “Give’s the wrong idea about you.”
“What? That I’m your pet?”
His voice was just as like, dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, just to tease. Strangely, the encounter had made him feel better. Clown really was here to protect him.
Even if, by the short growl his partner let out, he was less than happy Branzy needed protecting at all.
——————
They moved smoothly through the crowd. Clown seemed to have a list, and Branzy got the feeling he could have been left on the sidelines more than once, but every time he even tried to slip away, a steel grip snaked around his forearm. He’d decided to stop trying, and enjoy the night.
Much to Clown’s displeasure, Branzy had started drinking. His partner had steered him away from the waiter the first time, but the next Branzy had been more careful, and gotten halfway into a champagne he couldn’t even pronounce the name of before Clown hissed at him to put it down.
Now, two glasses later, Clown had stopped trying to stop him, and Branzy was past the ominous feeling that small allowance should have given him.
Besides, it made him look cool. Hanging on the arm of the greatest mercenary in the world- as Clown had been introduced several times, making Branzy grin in pride and joy- with a glass of champagne in hand, Branzy felt on top of the world.
Clown, on the other hand, wasn’t doing so well. He’d been getting terser and terser over the course of the evening, and was now fully curt, giving one word replies to whoever asked.
“Clown…” Branzy tried to whisper, but it came out a little louder than he’d intended. “You’re meant to be being civil, remember?”
He giggled, leaning on Clown’s shoulder, only to be shrugged off.
“I remember.“
That was all he said, and Branzy pouted, reaching up to tap one of Clown’s horns, in an effort to get his full attention.
“So why aren’t you being?”
Clown didn’t respond to that. Just grabbed Branzy’s hand out of the air, griping his wrist with a pressure he rarely used on his partner, and growled in a way that made Branzy very, very sober for a moment.
Then it passed, and Branzy was left with a racing heartbeat, and an increasingly irked mercenary dragging him around a hall of people who could kill him in a heartbeat.
As Branzy discovered, when a young man tried to throw his arm around his shoulders, grinning slyly.
Before the stranger could do more than open his mouth, his hand was being yanked off Branzy’s collarbone, and he was bodily flipped onto the floor, landing in the open space that had suddenly cleared as the crowds realised something was happening.
Clown placed his foot on the man’s chest, leaning down slightly as Branzy watched with wide eyes and a white knuckled grip on his fourth champagne glass.
Around him, whispers spread like ripples, and Branzy found himself caught in the middle of murmurs eddying into rumours, dragging in gossip into the whirlpool he was at the centre of.
Meanwhile, he could only watch, as Clown examined the stranger for a long moment, then slammed the heel of his boot into his forehead. The man’s head slammed against and bounced off the tiled floor, and Branzy squeaked slightly, seeing a trickle of crimson blood run from the back of his head.
Unfazed, Clown walked back over to him, grabbing Branzy by the arm, given his other hand was pressed over his mouth in mute horror.
“We’re leaving.”
The crowd parted for them, and Branzy stumbled, tripping after Clown as his vision went slightly blurry. Was that man dead? What had he even been trying to do?
“Clown- Clown what-“
Branzy realised swiftly he wasn’t getting a response, and decided he was going to shut up now. He had the uncomfortable feeling that was one of the first smart choices he’d made all night, the other one being his decision to stick very, very close to Clown.
Speaking of which, Branzy had no time to pull away before his partner was shoving him into a car- the same car? he couldn’t tell- and getting in the front himself.
With some wordless signal, the driver started reversing, even as Branzy was still struggling to sit up.
“Just lie down.” Clown’s voice came out clipped, and Branzy whimpered slightly. Now that was angry. “I shouldn’t have brought you here.”
Slowly, he did as he was told, lowering his head to the leather seat and chewing on his lip. Branzy could feel the tension still in his shoulders, watching Clown in apprehension. All he’d needed to do was not mess up, and somehow he’d still failed that.
“This isn’t about you, Branzy. Not yet, at least.” Clown exhaled slowly, turning into a low hiss towards the end. “I may have…. underestimated how much you needed to be protected.”
Branzy heard himself make a small, squeaky noise, and didn’t quite know why, only that he should really be being quiet right now, if he valued his life. Which he did, actually, rather a lot.
Clown sighed again, posture too stiff as he gestured the driver down a road.
“We’ll talk. At least you’re not hurt.”
That man was. Branzy wondered if the lady’s wrist still hurt. How many people Clown had hurt, keeping him safe, tonight alone.
It felt like too quickly they were pulling into Clown’s house, and Branzy had a feeling it was to do with the change of route he’d given the driver.
Still, it didn’t matter much, and he managed to sit up without passing out from dizziness. This time, Branzy was more than grateful for Clown’s help into the open air, leaning on him maybe a little too heavily. His partner’s arm was snaked around his waist, gloved fingers digging into his hip as Clown dismissed the driver with words Branzy couldn’t make out.
Then he was being dragged inside, and upstairs, and he might have blacked out, because next thing he knew he was practically collapsing onto a bed, and Clown was gone.
Branzy rolled over, mumbling vaguely as he felt around. This wasn’t his bed. Where-?
Oh, sweet Jesus. This was Clown’s room. And- his bed, conclusively. Branzy felt his breath stall, inebriation briefly forgotten in favour of pure, unadulterated fear. He hadn’t even been in here before. It felt rather like being dragged to the nest of a predator, and left for dead while they went out hunting again.
But Clown was back already, helping Branzy to sit upright, one arm at his back to keep him there. His partner’s other hand was pressing a glass of water to his lips, which Branzy knew better than to refuse.
“I told you not to drink, Branzy.”
There was a slight edge, the hint of an accent Branzy could never place, enough danger to Clown’s voice to make his neck prickle.
But there wasn’t much Branzy could do, except keep swallowing the water so he didn’t choke, and finally gasp air into his lungs when Clown set the glass to the side. Control. That was all his partner wanted. He just had to play along, and he’d be fine.
“Well? It didn’t get you hurt, but it could have.”
“S- sorry.” Branzy’s voice was hoarse, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he tried to cling onto sobriety. “I- didn’t realise-“
“No. You didn’t. I said you were smart, Branzy, don’t make me have lied to my associates.”
Clown was always at his deadliest when he was polite. Not the kind of danger people knew him for, but the gleam in the eyes of a cornered animal. The simple truth that there was nothing he wouldn’t do to get what he wanted, even tolerate other people.
“You- you didn’t.” Branzy swallowed, trying to make himself believe it. “I promise, I- I messed up, I know.”
Clown paused. His grip tightened, then loosened, almost like he was flexing his hand. Branzy tried not to whimper again, just tried to focus his vision, staring at his dust-scuffed boots.
“You… didn’t do anything wrong. No more than I would, in your position. I’m just angry. Just… angry. At a lot of people.”
Branzy blinked, not quite believing it. Clown didn’t apologise. Not ever, certainly not to him. And it wasn’t quite an apology, but it was close enough to be extremely unsettling.
“Uh- are you… ok?”
“Yes. You’ll be sleeping here tonight. If… that’s ok. With you.”
Without giving himself time to think about it, Branzy nodded. He mostly just didn’t want to move. And he didn’t want Clown to move. He didn’t want to be scared again, ever, and if he had to cling to his mercenary for the rest of his life, so be it.
“…good. Go to sleep, Branzy, you are… impressively drunk.”
Clown laid him gently on the bed, and Branzy was aware of a few minutes of pause, in which he felt his partner removing both of their shoes, businesslike as ever. Then Clown was right next to him, adjusting his body so he was actually lying normally, and not in danger of losing blood flow to his arms.
Branzy was practically holding his breath, hopeful beyond what he thought he could believe, even as his partner settled beside him, mask off. Mask off.
“You… you’re not wearing your mask.”
That was funny. He giggled, slightly, and Clown smiled, eyes lingering on him for a long moment.
“Seems unnecessary, now.”
It did, didn’t it? Briefly, Branzy worried if he should be worried, drunk and in bed with someone he hadn’t called a business partner for a long time. But Clown just hummed, a lot more thoughtful when it wasn’t distorted by his mask, and rolled over.
Branzy stared for a moment, not much in his mind aside from fluff.
He hardly even noticed as his eyes started to flutter shut.