Chapter Text
When posters for a bounty-hunter guild in South Elysium started being put up, Bettel found his curiosity piqued. The posters were messily put together, looking more like wanted posters than advertisments. Photos were attached to each one, and the jester found himself interested in one of the hunters in particular.
Now, this may make him sound like a creep or something, but he absolutely took one of the posters home to...inspect the man. Patchy, cookie-coloured hair, a neutral expression... He was really interesting, wasn't he? The poster lay on Bettel's bedside table, and he found himself looking at it often.
"Crimzon Ruze... I wonder if I'm saying that right?" Bettel asked himself, swiping his hand over the picture on the paper. Maybe he'd have better luck with this mystery man if he went out and looked himself?
On the way out of the guild hall, he heard a shout. "Who do these ARMIS losers think they are anyways!?" It was Hakka, waving a paper around in Altare's face. In his hand was another one of the posters, one that seemed more like an advertisment for the guild's services than information about each member.
With caution, Bettel approached Hakka. "Hey Hakka, what's wrong?" He murmured, raising a brow.
"What's wrong is that these newbies think they can steal the spot of number one guild!" Hakka shouted, voice going high pitched and squeaky. He looked down at the paper, muttering to himself, "Fucking pendejos..."
Bettel chuckled, trying to hide the nerves that started to build in his chest. Maybe he had to keep his interest on the down-low around his guildmates if they all shared Hakka's sentiment. He turned away, making his way to the guild doors.
-♡-
The jester walked around town, eyeing every commission board that he could find. Looking for any new posters, any news on this new guild. On his mystery man.
"Crimzon Ruze... Do you ever come to this part of Elysium, I wonder?" Bettel mindlessly asked himself, stepping over to one of the boards and looking at the array of posters. The amount of TEMPUS and ARMIS posters rivaled each other by now, it was almost funny.
Suddenly, footsteps approached. Bettel turned around with a start, gaze meeting the one from the person approaching. His heart skipped a beat. The jacket, the hair, the axe, the mask...It was Ruze. A small whine slid out of Bettel's throat, and his face reddened in embarrassment.
"Hey there." The gruffness of the man's voice was a surprise.
"H-hi." Bettel squeaked.
"Would you mind, uh... Stepping out of the way? I gotta put some posters up, sorry." Ruze asked, holding up a few papers.
Bettel was just...admiring, jaw slack and eyes wide. Ruze had to shake the papers a bit in front of him to catch his attention again. "Oh-! Yeah, sorry!" He stepped away, covering his face nervously. "S-so, uh... What's your name?" Bettel asked, tilting his head as he watched Ruze put the posters up.
Ruze looked over at him, lip quirking up into a smirk. "What, d'you ask every stranger you meet their name, gamer?" He asked teasingly, relishing in Bettel's reaction. "I'm Crimzon Ruze, part of ARMIS over in South Elysium. What about you?"
"Me!? Oh, I'm Gavis Bettel, jester of Guild TEMPUS." Bettel said quickly, unthinking of the past tension.
The pair stayed silent for a moment, and Ruze raised one of his brows. "So, you're uh...my enemy, technically!" Ruze murmured. "Hm... No hard feelings from me to be honest, you seem cool enough to keep around. Don't let Jurard know, though. He's dead-set on surpassing you guys."
Bettel felt a smile crawl onto his lips, the other man calling him 'cool' sending butterflies straight to his stomach. "Heh, thanks, Crimzon. I think my guildmates would have some strong words if they saw us talking." He said with a small grin.
"No 'Crimzon,' just Ruze." Ruze said with a smirk, flicking Bettel's forehead.
The pair laughed, both their cheeks getting tinged a light pink. All the remaining posters lay scattered on the ground, forgotten in the two's banter.
"...alright.. Whatever you say, Ruze." Bettel said with a smile. "Hey, we should...meet up again sometime. You seem cool in my book too."
"Promise?" Ruze held out his pinky.
"Promise!" Bettel giggled, interlocking their pinkies and sealing the promise with a small kiss.
And reality came crashing down on the clown. Had he really just done that? He flushed bright red once more, and yanked his hand away. "SORRY I just remembered!! I. I uh... I forgot to turn off my dog! I mean. Fuck. Feed my microwave! I mean-! Nevermind!" Bettel ran away, nearly tripping five times on his way home.
Ruze just stood still, a bit stunned at how sudden Bettel's actions were. He looked at his hand, still extended in the pinky-promise position.
God. Bettel was... Kinda cute.