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He did not know why he did agree to this.
He had always disliked, HATED festivities.
Especially the kind of festivity on which loud lusic was being blasted through all the oversized boombox speakers, where people were drunk and loud and yelling and dancing and where people kept pushing against him accidentially, too drunk to stand and worst of all, the parties on which everyone who thought something of themselves attended.
It was the perfect event for him to get into trouble.
However, despite this, he still agreed on going to the opening event of this year's summer Phestival.
It was not only a random event, not a random party in the garage of a person where he could maybe sit in the back and try not to get overwhelmed by the noise, the crowd and the smell and during which he would not see people he would prefer not to meet outside of the usual Phight event.
It was THE event for all the Phighters and Fans of Phighting and most of all, Fans of FLIPSIDE.
It was even hosted by no other than FLIPSIDE themselves, both also dancing and having fun in between the masses.
Both were hard to miss, masses of Fans follwing wherever they went and their glittering overdramatic themed event outfits lifting them up from the rest of the beings around them-
It was loud, it smelled like alcohol, smoke and too strong deodorant and perfume, making him feel lightheaded, the party lights were making him nervous, moving around and strobing in all kinds of bright rainbow colors and the people were frustrating him, pushing him into walls and objects every second.
Standing somewhere close to the bar, hoping that at least there, he was a bit more secure between all the guests just chilling, talking and drinking, he let his eye roam through the dancing people, trying to look for the one Phighter who begged him to join the event .
His brother, Sword.
Sword was nowhere to be seen.
The more he was searching, the more he had started to get a gut feeling that apparently it hadn't been as easy to find a demi-deity with large wings in the partying mass as he had hoped.
The longer he was standing there, people so extremely close that he could feel them touching his arms , that he could hear them talking even though the music and the mess of things said by thousands of people simultaneously rendered him unable to understand a single word said by the person right on his side, the worse he felt his heartbeat beginning to be way too fast, eventually even feeling it beat in his own ears.
The longer he was standing there, he felt more and more dizzy. His hands shaky, his ears ringing, his vision sometimes becoming a bit too blurry, the lights too bright and blinding him, the bass beating inside his ribcage, making his heart feel like it tried to jump out of the chest, making him feel like he was about to vomit
The drinks on which he had previously agreed on joining in, were making him feel disgustingly hot, his cheeks burning and making him feel even more like everything was too loud …
A single push. A single person running into him once more was enough
NOt even really saying anything to the person apologizing he pushed them out of his way, making his way through the messy mass.
Shoving past the dancing people, harshly shoving some away and making himself as flat as possible to slip past the most, trying not to be too disgusted by all the strangers touchiing his body while he was trying to get out of the big main room of the party and out of the entire thing, fresh air all he wanted and needed.
Eventually he managed to reach the metallic dark grey and heavy backdoor leading behind the building into a small alley way.
He had immediately grabbed the door bar, pushing it open a crack, not wide open so that he would not be noticed and annoyed by any about what he was planning on doing or where he was going or if he was already planning on leaving and if he didn't want to party some more and whatever other questions which would piss him off even much worse than he was , carefully moving out , shutting the door.
Outside it was dark, only a few street lights and the stars over them on the black night sky flooded the otherwise black alley way into a faint and cool lightning.
It had just been enough light for him to see a bit of everything around.
As soon as the door fell shut with a heavy clacking noise, he sighed deeply, breathing and taking in the cold and crisp, fresh air.
It smelled like a perfect warm summer night in the city. The faint smell of grass, the dishes of the diners close by and warm tar from the grey street.
A cold soft wind blew around his nose and moved his brown messy curls with the many many grey streaks
Running his hand through them he sighed again, before reaching into the pocket of his pants.
Pulling out a pack of matchsticks and a cigarette, he smiled faintly upon looking at the things in his gloved hand.
It was quiet, the music and the masses as well as the heavy bass of the boomboxes were only muffled in the background and it smelled nothing like in that room.
There were no others yelling, pushing him, staring, asking him weird things.
He was finally on his own.
Some quietness for his cigarette brea.k.
He quietly thanked whatever being there was over them all, that his boss was way too drunk by now to keep him close to her, forgetting his existence much to his own happiness, not being forced to stay at her side so she could keep her eye onto him, always looking at him, checking if he was talking with anyone with whom he wasn't allowed to or doing anything which he wasn't allowed to or trying to get out of the cult somehow.
For one night he could go somewhere without her eyes always resting on him, the sharp eyes of her feeling like daggers in his skin.
Nothing could get out of her sight if it had become proclaimed her chosen object of torment.
He hated it.
He hated being so under watch and being controlled.
He hated every second he was with her.
He felt small and injuryable next to his boss.
He was more than happy that for once she was drunk and busy with searching for another woman she could get into a short term weird situationship with, even if just for one single night, even if just for the party, something to fill in the loneliness she felt in secret, behind her facades.
In this thing, she was not much different than he was, even if he hated to think about this or even admit this problem.
Just that he wasn't trying to do anything about it.
Instead of switching out dates he just existed with this gaping void in his soul left behind from losing the one single partner he ever had loved and this was something no other could remove , he had to accept that much.
This night, this void had felt even more cold and made him feel even more empty in his chest than usual.
Seeing his brother with his first and only lover, now fiance, both holding onto each other, giggling, dancing, acting like teens with their first ever lover , kissing each other and gossiping, being clearly calm and happy caused being close to the other and needing nothing more than the other next to them to have their eyes all shiny and happy , made him feel sick even if he didn't try to pay any closer attention to it, talking himself into thinking that it was the drinks making him feel sick in his stomach and making his heart ache.
Clearly it had been drinks.
The alcohol.
Something.
Not the painful memories.
Not the fact that he and him had been like that too. Exactly like them , exactly as cheesy and happy and loving, never spending more than a few hours apart.
With a sigh he lit the match stick, holding it to the cigarette in his mouth and after he could see the yellowish glow on the front and the first faint grey clouds of smoke rise up in the night sky, he waved the stick, the little flame entirely dying before he dropped it on the cold hard street, watching the clouds of smoke become thicker and more as the cigarette started to really work, the clouds slowly moving around in the air before they stopped being really visible.
Following their dance with his one eye, he tried to think about someone, anything other than that one robotics inventor with the glimmering pink horns, even pinker pupils which always used to have this glint of mischief in his eyes which he had started to love and cherish and with the soft long black hair through which he always let his hands run through on any possible opportunity, the cool straight and silky hair feeling so familiar and good as he had let his hands roam through them when they used to lie curled up together on the couch in one of their rooms at Korblox HQ or in the bed, legs intertwined, listening to the breathing of their lover, listening to their strong heartbeats, feeling calm and happy in each other's thight held. Or when they used to kiss in secret.
It helped nothing. The longer he stood there, the more he started to grieve. Something he never did when completely without the influence of any drink.
It was a harsh, unhealthy and concerning loud cough which ripped him out of his own thought spiral
Feeling his chest clench up in shock as his heart skipped a couple of heartbears he spun around.
His free hand immediately grabbed the revolver which was on his belt under the long medic coat of the cult's robes.
A few meters away from him stood none else than Subspac.
Subspace was cowering over, coughing in his arm, thick pink poison clouds slipping out of his mouth and wavering around him, until they slowly became invisible again ,since he had his gas mask off, the mask attached to his belt by the clips of the straps, dangling next to his leg; the long two grey tubes which were attached to both of the masks sides as well as to a small canister on his belt, also hanging loosely on both his sides, since he didn't wear it on his face they looked way too long
He was in his Cybergoth attire, his pink and black long wig of cyberlox , net sleeve shirt underneath his usually skin tight black and grey striped bodysuit , black heavy leather belt, chains attached to its side, grey too big pants with many pockets on the side of both of his legs, many silver bangles, a black bandana around his head, the black cloth covering his left side of the face, big silver earrings and way too big and round reflecting glasses in pink hiding his only eye.
With a look full of disbelief and anger Med looked at him.
His mind was both entirely empty and spiraling at the same time, unable to decide on what to think or do.
Slowly letting his hand off the revolver, letting it hang on the belt where it was always hanging he looked at the other.
"Why does it only have to be him."
It was the only sentence his mind could come up with. The only sentence he was able to muster up in his mind and it took all his willpowers to not say it.
"What are you doing here?", was everything he could sneer out instead, his brows furrowing as he continued to look at the inventor who was clearly having troubles to stop coughing.
Hearing him cough , he tried to ignore the sick and stinging feeling inside his stomach and chest
Instead he focused on all the annoyance he felt .
Why did it always have to be this one guy?
Not a random other Phighter.
Or why couldn't the universe just let him alone for a second. For one single cigatte.
It had taken the other a short amount of time to calm his breath before he answered.
Turning around as well, his shining pink pupil looked right into Medkit's green eye.
The street lamp was throwing dark shadows onto his facial features.
He looked exhausted and bothered by the rude way of acknowledging that he was here.
A smile spread over his lips but it wasn't a happy or amused one.
It looked sarcastic.
"I've been standing here before you joined me here, you just didn't see me at all. I should be asking you and not the other way around.” He replied with a snarky tone, then adding something which wanted to make him end the robotic scientist right after he spoke it out loud.
"Doctor."
His voice was quivering a bit underneath all that sneering way of speaking.
His hands were shaking a bit and he stood with his upper half a bit lowered, his eye darting around at the smallest movements or smallest music change from the house in which they had been a few minutes before this disastrous thing-
Before meeting him.
Once more.
Once again.
And once more he couldn't tell if he wanted to end him or if he wanted him back, either way his heart wouldn' t stop painfully twisting and turning the longer he was close to him even if there was a space between them.
Deep inside he knew that it was the space which made it even harder to handle
Back then they would have talked about the people, about the songs, looked at the sky over them with the glowing celestial elements and they would have whispered corny loving sentences the the other, trying to make the other more flushed than they used to be themself before they would have shared a smoke and then they would have said that it would be good to go home .
They would have sneaked into a hotel instead, safe from the eyes of Korblox'sHQ admins and kings. They would have curled up on the bed and would have cuddled, sleeping through the entire night, feeling comfortable in the hotel, but even more in each other's warm arms.
Now there was this large amount of space and the pissed off, cold look in both of their eye.
Now they were both missing an eye, they both had deep injuries which had by now only healed on the body and not on the inside and they were both dealing with feelings of love and confusion. Both of the feelings overshadowed by anger and betrayal. Both couldn't live without the other but only one of them could admit it.
It had never been very Medkit like to admit to anything. Not to any and even not to his own self.
It had always been a bad character flaw.
It never made stuff particularly easier to fix.
In the end, they would always fail due to him never admitting to what he really was feeling and since him and the other always refused to chat about what was really going on in their minds. Or what issues they had to deal with in their job. Or about anything important .
It kind of felt like what he deserved for never doing these basic relationship things. Which were so basic but which were the core issue causing them to end up here, outside, as two hating each other, instead of being together, dancing inside.
Medkit knew why Subspace's hands and voice were quivering.
He knew that while the other loved going on parties, showing off fits and dancing to industrial songs, the flashing bright colors of the big floodlights inside and the masses would become too much too loud and too scary, the other's sensory functions not used to bright floodlights, moving floodlights blinding his sensitive, only used to the dark eye and not used to this many Inphernal inhabitants shoved in one tiny backroom or party area.
Usually, if he started to act overly cautious and became jumpy, shaky hands, voice shaking too, he would have softly taken his hand and would have brought him to the outside, into an empty place, where he would try to calm the other down, getting his mind to stop spiraling -
Now all he was doing, was trying to not look at the hands trying to to think about how awful it must be to handle this much physical and physical stress with the illness added by now.
It wasn't easy to miss that his body was having a hard time.
While he was speaking and breathing, poison wavered out of inbetween his lips.
He was happy that he could not clearly see the other's look from behind the pink reflecting sunglasses.
Instead he looked at him with scrunched nose and tightly furrowed eyebrows, answering the harsh sentence which the robotic inventor had flung at him .
-"Can't someone smoke here?", was the dry response. "And stop with that title. I am not a doctor at all."
He hated being called a doctor. Not only did he hate his gear, he hated the name.
He had been an engineering student. He was an inventor for robotics, for gear modification, for arm and leg replacing, he had never been anything like a doc.
He was a medic at best.
The name “Doctor”, the real role of one, had been shoved on him in the forsaken cult he had agreed on getting a part of. For them he was The Doctor of the cult.
Someone with this kind of healing power and this gear was never allowed to become anything other than this. A support and endless healing power for the believers. Someone to fix them up after they had to answer for their wrongdoings against people outside of the group.
To them, it was not of any meaning what he himself wanted.
In this horrible environment of the Church, he wasn't himself.
He was "doc" or "doctor". His name never being said.
He was once again only a thing to be used.
Just like he and Subspace had always been, never more.
Though only he had been aware.
The other had been painfully brainwashed, believing he was only made to be something , a thing, which had to break itself for Korblox-
When Korblox would say jump, it was the only option to answer with How high?
It was the only answer which he thought of as appropriate.
And by now Med was waiting for Korblox to order the scientis to jump into the very own demise. They had been using him to degrees where he came to Phights, barely able to do anything, too overworked to move.
Too ill to join a Phight and yet he still did.
To prove himself that he was not as ill and that he was still good for Korblox, still their number one.
He had never been their No.1. He had been a mere expendable being.
Not even a being.
No matter what he was thinking, he was lesser than a being in their opinions.
-"Why shouldn't I say that name? I mean that is what you are, what you want to be, what you are allowing them to customize you in. Did you ever take a single look at the uniform?"
Biting the inside of his cheek in utter frustration, he tried not to look at what he was currently dressed in.
His once light green antlers, the once exactly matching green stone between his antlers, painted in a dark, dirty cyan.
Dark cyan leather gloves, doctor gloves, reaching almost his upper arms.
Dark cyan and light cyan dress pants, with a checkered board patter.
A cyan belt.
A cyan dress shirt.
A cyan cravat around his throat.
A golden watch around his wrist, so he could check how long the meds were taking, how long someone had been in an injured state, how fast the heart was beating, how slow someone was breathing, when the next meeting with the bosses would eventually happen.
Golden earrings, golden buttons, golden rings on his fingers underneath his gloves which were the only thing left of his old style. They were painful reminders of how he used to dress.
Of his personal style he loved.
He had felt so comfortable being in the Steampunk clothes.
There were screws and mechanical things all over him, most of the clothes were made by him.
The clothes were revealing the thing he truly liked doing. Creating new gears and creating new machinery,
Now he was dressed in colors that he hated, looking like someone he used to have night terrors about becoming.
His entire fit was completed by the heavy, big, cyan coat, one of a doctor, pockets all over the coat, pockets with all kinds of medical supplies in them, a coat with a Rod of Asclepius right where his own heart was, embodied in shiny golden yarn.
Then there was a cyan armband with a thick red cross wrapped around his left arm.
He felt even more hate towards it than the coat.
It was too thight.
He coat to large and weighted him down.
He felt so off.
He was an inventor, customized as a medic, as a doctor , born with a gear and an ability which he disliked.
He didn't even have a licence to treat anyone. And yet he did. He even taught himself how to heal and treat everything he could come up with.
He spent nights learning, practicing. And he didn't even knw why he was pretending.
He was running away from so many things, from his own self, he forgot why exactly he was pretending to be a medic , there were too many things going the wrong turn.
He stopped thinkitg about these things.
"I am aware, still I don't want to be named like this."
And mostly not by you.
"Then maybe you should have considered this before you entered this circle. Now you do anything they tell you to do and you have to deal with others seeing you as what they force you to be, and for what. For "Protection" , ridiculous if you ask me."
"Shut up. Before I make you shut up for the rest of my life. I'm not scared of you, I could end your sad life in this alley."
"Sure. "
There was a moment of uncomfortable dead silence, looking into each other's pupils.
This is why he never agreed on joining larger parties. Only causes issues for his own self, always seeing others he tried to bury deep inside the back of his head.
"You would not end me in this alley, it would only get your fancy uniform all dirty, and you wouldn't want your medic fit to be all messy riiiight Meddy "
He knew exactly how to piss him off.
He didn't try to show how angry he was, ignoring the twitching eyebrow instead.
"I told you to stop talking to me."
As soon as he saw the wide, angry grin of the other, he knew that he was doomed, the inventor having way too much fun seeing him getting all upset .
"What do you want to do about me talking to you? Run to your little cultist boss crying to her and sending her for protection because you can't do anything because you are so defenseless and weak or-"
Before he could say the rest, Medkit had let his cigarette fall out of his two fingers, rushed over , grabbed him at the turtleneck of his bodysuit and pushed him roughly against the house behind them, causing the other to turn his head to the side and cough up even more of poison, however still visibly smiling amusedly.
Trying to ignore his heart feeling a stabbing ache as he heard, felt and saw the other cough, seeing the pink poison wavering out of between his lips and feeling how skinny and bony but also how weak he had gotten, feeling the other's collarbones and all other bones through the cloth against his hands, he tried to keep him in a thight grip, his blood practically burning from the anger he was feeling.
He could feel his own heart race but also Subspace's .
Subspace smelled like too strong perfume but there was also the faint smell of alcoholic drinks lingering around him.
Something in him wanted to lecture the other about the fact that he shouldn't drink alcholic drinks with that illness.
Instead his mind put together other words for him to say. Words which felt so off, so painful, so wrong that he wanted to reverse them the second they had left him again but words which he had gotten somewhat used to , their cruelty slowly becoming sort of a really normal daily thing for him to say, to throw onto other's heads, ignoring how they felt.
"Talk one more time to me like this and I will make you regret you ever talked to me in your life at all", he sneered quietly, his own first trembling.
He hated everything about this.
When had been the point in their life when they had become this. These cruel versions of themselves, blood all over their hands, their horrible actions weighing heavy on their shoulders.
Medkit was not a doctor, Medkit was not violent, and yet he was here in the heavy attire of a cult in which he didn't even belong, wearing the attire and the title of a doctor when his hands were made to create machines not fix up injuries and a weapon on his belt, hating himself.
Subspace was not a mindless robot, he was not one to obey without even thinking about what he was going to do, he was not someone who would do such terrible things and yet he was here, the spark in his eye had long changed into an insane and cruel one, his face was hidden behind the mask and the glasses, making him look even more intimidating and his long claws would mess up everything they touched for his idols. Their ideology was forcefully put in his thoughts until their thoughts were what he was thinking . There was a large dark black tatoot of Blackrocks symbol all over his healthy upper arm.
Sometimes, when Subspac was alone he would shortly wonder when he had become so much of a product of Blackrock.
He was marked like one of their Biocrafts.
Maybe he had become one.
Medkit hated that he could not stop seeing the old Subspace he loved behind that mask, behind the pink sunglasses which were too reflective to see the other's expression, buried in that shell of a robot , when he so desperatley tried to see him as this new, brainwashed and cruel robotic-like being.
Subspace hated that Medkit tried so hard to be someone he wasn't , unable to view these new clothes as anything other than a cheap clown costume. Not once had he been able to see him as anything other than his co-robotic-engineer.
Not once-
He knew that the higher ups wanted him to work as a medic, his powers being useful and crucial as well as rare, and he was the perfect never ending source of health.
They could not see the sheer talent which Sub had been looking at whenever he watched his love screwing on gears, modifying them turning them into something breathtakingly beautiful and so incredibly strong , turning them into something so flawless
It made him so angry seeing the other give in into this pressure of others, trying to act as someone , push himself into a work which was looking so awfully off on him.
He was an inventor, an engineer, a scientist, his partner-
How could he ever let other's turn him into something so awfully unfitting.
How could he ever let others turn him into a completely changed being.
Unironically, the other had exactly the same thoughts about him.
These thoughts however, stayed unspoken.
Medkit was still forcefully holding him against the wall, staring into his eye, anger written all over him.
He expected another awful thing being said to him, he could already see the other's evil smile.
Instead, the other's gaze trailed off his eye and looked at his antlers, the look in his face softening uncharacteristically and suddenly he looked like he used to look in the past for a split second.
Medkit was close enough to see his eye through the glasses by now.
Seeing him like that made his heart sink and ache.
"It has been quite some time since you last recolored your antlers , wasn't it mh?"
"Why is that of any relevance to you", grunted medkit.
"I can see the cracks in the color,… ", he stopped.
Slowly, he moved his eye looking back into the light green pupil of the other, a sad smile on his mouth unlike the one he was so used to by now.
The evil and twisted one.
The one of the being which he had become under Korblox's influence .
This one was the smile , the expression of the old him-
The one which Medkit loved and would never stop being in love with.
"I'm just glad they didn't made you wear colored contact lenses or some bullshit like that. "
Carefully, Subspace lifted his uninfected hand.
Long fingers with sharp, pink and black painted claws, carefully cupping his cheek, letting his thumb trace along the wrinkles under the eye, his sharp nail faintly causing a stinging, harsher feeling on the other's thin skin underneath the eye.
"Even if they dress you like that and make you look like a fancy cultist Medic, I won't forget how stunning you used to look like. I can always just look into this eye. And I can see you again, with these emerald eyes and these light green antler's, it fit you so much more than that dark cyan, you used to look like a deity of life with these."
The words shot right through his soul, stabbing him in the void he felt and all he could feel was how his heart raced and ached. He felt his heart hurting and his grip on the other becoming less tight as he let his arms fall a bit, staring at the other in disbelief and shock, his eye widenth , still staring right into the glimmering pink pupil which stared right back into the deepest areas of his inner soul.
He couldn't muster up any words, he couldn't come up with any thoughts other than that he needed the other to finally shut his mouth, he was clearly not knowing what he was telling him here in that alley.
Without thinking any more , he tightened his grip , lifting his arms again, but instead of slamming him further against the cold wall behind him again, instead of threatening him, he pulled him in and smashed his lips against the other's cold and chapped ones .
Subspace's hand immediately went to his neck, resting on it, holding it softly, pushing him a bit further to hi m while he lifted his infected arm, putting it on Medkit's back, digging his claws in the other's back, clinging onto him, holding him so closely that it hurt just a tiny bit, his eye shutting close immediately.
It was messy, angry and yet it felt loving as well as like the right thing for both of them.
Despite all their fights, despite the story of them, their lips still felt familiar on their own, their touch still felt good and right.
It still felt so normal and familiar and for a moment it felt like a missing piece inside of them had been found again.
For a second, the void inside of them ceased its existence, vanishing entirely or at least being not as cold as it always was.
Despite the fact that Medkit still had the other in a firm grasp he still had the grip loosened to a point where the other could easily push him away if he had wanted to, but nothing of that sort took place.
He could have pushed him off but he wrapped his weaker, infected leg around him a bit, making him stumble a bit closer, entirely closing the already barely existing few centimetres between them.Medkit could feel the other happily smile against his lips, making him furrow his own eyebrows again; that must have been his only goal , his reason for angering him so much.
He walked right into the neatly constructed trap, but for reasons he didn't want to think about much longer he was unable to be angry about it.
The sunglasses pissed him off , hindering them from really getting closer to each other, so in between all the kisses, Subspace had hastily removed them, putting them somewhere Medkit couldn't even see since the other softly pulled him in a kiss once more, and frankly, he didn't even care where they were.
Eventually he opened his fists still holding the other's black turtleneck, cradling his face instead.
The poison was drying his throat, making it itch as his horns started to glow in a light green , healing his own body continuesly, canceling the effects of the other's poison.
Completely lost in the other's hold, he failed to notice that the other was softly fidgeting open the buttons on the armband with the large cyan cross all over it, gently opening it, removing it slowly and slipping it into the side pocket of his own grey cargo pant before he let his arm rest on Medkit's back again, holding him as tight as if he was scared that Medkit could push him away and run away, leaving him once more at any moment.
He had always been scared of being left behind, abandoned and after Medkit had done exactly this, it had only been clear that he would start to hate him with a burning dislike.
The kisses of both felt just as mixed as their emotions.
They were soft and their tight hold felt scared and desperate, as if neither of them wanted to ever let the other go again and yet there was something rougher and something angry in the way the would hold onto each other, in the way the would smash their lips against the other one, in the way Subspace tugged at the other's curly strands of hair every once in a moment and on the other's heavy doctor coat.
Medkit felt how the other would always only caress his skin, let his fingers run through his curls but never rested his hands on the heavy cyan thick coat for a longer time, instead often tugging of it or letting his hand slip under its collar, resting his hand on his shoulder, on the fabric of the dress shirt he wore underneath the heavy fabric of it, the cold of his hand now much more noticeable on his own shoulder than when it was on the coat.
All the doctor stuff pissed Sub off so much and he tried to make it noticeable.
One aspec of making it noticeable also was eventually biting into the other's lower lip , damaging it a bit and making it bleed just a tad bit with his pointy and sharp pink teeth.
Feeling the sharp feeling, Medkit immediately pulled back, an expression of being fed up but also slight disappointment before lowered a bit, hovering over the other's healthy side of his throat.
He knew Subspace's ticklish spots and he had to piss him off a bit for making his lip injuried, if he was something, he was a petty lover.
Letting his lips softly hover over the other's neck skin , noticing the other stopping to do anything, he then gently bit the other in the cold skin .
Yelping Subspace immedtiatly tried to close the space between his throat and his shoulder by lifting it and moving his head to the side, obviously still tickled easily.
Smiling mischievous, Medkit resorted to kissing him on that spot, fleeting and not even really on the skin, if anything more tickling, than doing anything - tormenting Subspac.
Softly shuddering, the inventor buried his own face in Medkit's neck.
HIs senses were only able to feel Medkit.
The smell of ointments, bandages and his own.
The feeling of his warm hands and his chapped lips, the warm body.
All he could see was him, all he could taste was him, all he could hear was his breathing and his heartbeat, his rustling of the clothes, the noise of his hoovwhen he changed how he was standing a small bit
Everything was him
All he could think of was the other
He hadn't felt happier ever since the day their awful argument had ripped their lives apart.
Medkit.
Medkit.
"Medkit."
His voice quiet as he had muttered the name but it was enough for Medkit to feel his heart skip a beat, pulling back as if the other had burned him with his touch, staring at him in shock, his hands shaking a bit
He hadn't called him his name since during the argument.
Always Meddy, Kit, Doc, now even Doctor.
He barley called him Medkit at all.
Feeling his eye tear up, he saw his vision getting very blurry as he looked at the other's face, a thing which he had refused.
His one side of the face was torn and rotting, the black thick eye covering hiding the eyesocket and the heaviest part of the rotting skin , the part of his body and his skin looking as if they hurt awfully, there were dark circles under his eye and he looked exhausted as well as even more boney as he had recalled him being , it made his stomach thighten.
Still breathing out pink poison he stared at him with an expression which the other couldn't fully decipher .
His eye still had this insane shimmer but it was softer and behind all of this, he could still see the ve same look which he always had when he was with Medkit.
A look filled with nothing else but sheer and pure love.
Staring into his pupil, it felt like he was standing in front of the being which he had fallen in love with.
Not in front of the horrible brainwashed being he had now become.
Opening his mouth, wanting to say something, anything to break the silence, he felt a lump in his throat.
His mind was too messy , he could not come up with anything to say no matter how much he formed words in his head .
He wanted to grab the other, scream at him, yell, .
Since months he felt for the first time as if he was going to weep pathetically.
He couldn't. Not right now.
The only thing that came out was a raspy, quivering "I-" , in that moment it was all he could come up with, but before he could continue to try to come up with complete sentence, the being in front of him took his face in both of his hands .
Uncharacteristically careful, he held him slowly pulling him to him .
Medkit didn't pull back, didn't back off, letting the other pull him close, feeling his heart race as they softly put their lips onto the lips of the other again.
This kiss wasn't messy, wasn't angry, wasn't upset. If anything, it was still desperate but careful and without any biting. It was so soft and careful that it was almost incredibly out of character for the beings they were by now.
Softly, the other let his gloved rotting hand sit on Med's face, letting the right hand run carefully through his hair, before he let it rest on the neck, the touch of him so gentle as if he was horrified that he could break the other on accident like glass. Like very fragile glass.
Med himself dared to finally let his hands roam over Subspace's body, however unable to really touch him through his heavy gloves.
They were made out of leather, made in the pattern and the colors of the Church of the eye.
Checkered cyan leather gloves.
They felt heavy and wrong on him, yet also like something behind which he was able to hide himself, giving him a fake reassurement of safety.
Through the thick leather, he could only barely feel the other's bones, how cold he felt, but that was it, he could not feel the fabric of his bodysuit, he could not feel his skin , he could not feel the thick sleeve he wore to cover up his one awful arm.
It bothered him but also he could not remove them, despite how easy he could had removed them.
It would have been so easy, less than a minute .
He couldn't.
He didn't dare to take them off, fully giving in, really truly being able to touch the other, his own hands touching him and not just the thickish leather gloves.
For once he silently accepted his feeling, he was horrified.
He was terrified of his own soul.
That he couldn't stop yearning to be together with his ex partner once more.
That he still wanted him.
That he needed him.
That he would turn back time just to stop the disaster from taking place.
That he would turn back time just to get him again.
Just that he would be together with the other again.
That he still loved him-
That he wasn't able to stop loving and needing him, that his soul hurt the longer he could not be together with the other.
That he was grieving after him-
That he still had dreams about him.
That he still kept thinking about him everyday or if he could bury him during the day in his head, he spiraled in the night.
He kept refusing to really feel all of this, shoving and locking his feelings in the void in his chest, trying to never think or act on these and now he was here, telling himself that he was hating Subspace and yet he was here holding the other .
Kissing his lips as if the world was about to end tomorrow, as if this was their last night -
Taking them off would be him completley giving in, entirely admitting his true yearnings.
As if Subspace could read his thoughts, as if he could feel that the otehr started to think too muhc, spiraling , he suddenly wrapped his arms around his neck, hugging him , holding him thightly in a uncharacteristic calming hel
He then shortly moved his head back a bit, grunting a "I can practically HEAR you THINKING to MUCH" .
Opening his one eye a tad bit , looking at him a bit in annoyment .
Medkit did not reply, only looking at the other for a moment, before closing the inches between the two of them again.
It was after this remark after which he could finally fully stop thinking about it.
Both were melting into the hold of the other, Subspace still holding him in the hug-like held.
Medkit let his hands sit on Subspace's back.
Gently starting to caress it, feeling the bones of the other's spine and the ribcage, he desperately wanting to heal at least a bit of his physical pains and cussing himself and his powers out for only working through the crystal, revolver and physical objects to which they could be connected and this hook to his powers rendering him not able to just help someone with his power whenever he wanted with his own hands.
Entirely loosing himself into the other's touch, he felt himself stopping to think about what had happened on that one afternoon back at Blackrock's main HQ.
He stopped to think that neither of them were the beings they once had been, now both changed by others into the worst versions of themself which they could have gotten to be.For a split second, he forgot about everything .
For just that one second it was as if he was with the Subspace he used to love and not with the Subspace that he had been forced to be.
It had been as if Medkit wasn't the cultist doc with much blood on his gloves.
It was as if he was the robotic inventor he wanted to be, he used to be, he had been in Subspace's eye, one single more time, just for that moment.
It felt as if he was here with him after a day of work , as if they were still a thing.
It had been the more than anxious voice of his brother which had torn him out of this and dragged him back into the painful reality.
The voice was still a bit further away, and he heard him yelling out for him.
Perhaps it had been his healing powers which had healed him constantly to cancel out the effects of the toxic poison , working out the alcoholic drinks off his blood stream together with that poison and through that making him sober again;
Perhaps it had been Sword.
Either way, Subspace's touch was burning out of nowhere.
Shoving him away, he staggered a few steps backwards, looking at him with a terrified wide eye. Exhaling, pink poison wavered out of between his lips.
His heart was sinking, his stomach was wrenching making him feel sick as he realized what they were doing, what had happened, what he had just admitted to without even muttering a admitting thing.
The realization, that all it needed for his walls to give in like this , was simply being close to Sub. Hearing him say something loving. felt so much more horrifying than the fact that he had kissed him alone.
He HATED him
He couldn't just need that less of things which made him do idiotic actions .
He HATED him-
He was responsible for the being Medkit was now.
Not even being threatened with a revolver could make him act on the feelings which he tried to seal away in him.
Or at least that was what he repeated to himself until he thought so.
Not anymore after today.
How could he even deny that he didn't love him anymore after this.
How could he make himself believe that he couldn't stand him after all of what they had been doing.
Not even being threatened with a weapon should make him take action on what he kept feeling ;
Sohow could he stand there in the dark sideway , hearing his heart in his own ears, feeling as if it tried to break out of his ribcage, his breathing too hitched, Subspace standing right in front of Medkit, face not covered by the pink glasses or the mask, entirely revealed besides the eye coverage, poison in his own throat and lung and the feeling of the other's claws, softly touching, careful not to hurt him still on his body and feeling the kisses still on his chapped lip.
Staring at the other, he started to feel as if he just had commited the most awful crime.
The other started back with a wide eye, also not moving, not saying anything, just looking at him.
Taking another step back, made that expression however switch into one filled with betrayal yet underneath that, there was a sad look, a gutwrenching painful saddened expression.
He couldn't stand looking at that expression for longer.
The feeling as if he needed to run away, took over.
Spinning around, he ran into the building , not even hearing any closer if the other was calling out his name or did anything else.
Slamming the door shut behind him, he could feel his heart slam against his chest.
All he could feel was the painful sobered up realization and the awful true reality breaking him down.
Inside it still was loud, smelly and beings still pushed him around as he made his way through the middle of the dancing platform, trying to get to the main entrance. If he heard Sword yell on the outside, he must have been outside the entrance.
As soon as he made his way through the partying beings, he saw the other.
Both Sword and Rocket just entered the hall again, Sword worriedly looking around while his partner was carefully caressing their upper arm, trying to calm them down.
Seeing them like that, made him feel even worse about himself. He should have just looked for the other .
Unable to do anything , he stood there, cursing himself in his thoughts as he looked at these two, feeling more guilt than he had felt since quite a time.
Yet he did not stay unseen for longer than a short second, Sword's falcon eyes falling on him.
Rushing towards him with a loud "OH THANK THE GODS MED I WAS SO HORRIFED WHERE WERE YOU DID SOMEONE TRY TO FIGHT YOU PLEASE TELL ME YOU ARE DOING OK DO YOU NEED ME TO FIGHT ANY OTHER GUYS" he tackle hugged Medkit, making the shorter one almost trip and stumble.
Stopping himself from landing on his back, he grumbled and hugged the bird like spartan back,
"I'm okay", was the only thing he could answer.
"You look as if you have witnessed a fight or a ghost ", replied Rocket with raised brows.
"I was just outside taking a cigarette break"
"Yeah sure"
"Sword could you please grab us a drink, something strong I am giving you the money okay?"
Releasing him , the winged one shot him a questioning expression before simply agreeing and starting to shove himself through the dancing beings, apologzing the entire time, his big wings pushing over the beings almost the entire time he was on the dance platform. trying to reach the bar on the opposite side of the hall.
Sighing, he visibly relaxed as soon as the other was out of his view again.
He felt as if all the energy was gone and as if everyone who took a look at him would be able to see what he had just done, large glowing signs pointing on him.
He has been making out with his ex-partner.He is weak as fuck, he is a loser
He could visibly imagine these signs pointing on him
Feeling a headache make itself space in his head, he grunted, massaging his temple, wondering if he had enough spare healing abilities left to stop it or if he should just accept it .
"Dude you do look as if you had been in a fight or…have been doing things you maybe shouldn't."
"Rocket. Shut up."
He knew how useless it could be to tell the shorter one to keep his mouth closed.
Shrugging, the shark-like partner of his brother continued to let his eyes wander over Medkit , his light grey eyes almost piercing through him, feeling uncomfortably prying on his own skin.
Sighing he looked away.
"Your voice sound as dry as if you smoked every single cig in your pockets."
"Hm."
"Your armband has literally dissaperaed. "
"Yeah I-…Wait Pardon…HUH"
Turning around and looking at his arm, all he saw was the fabric of the coat instead of the cyan bandage.
Loudly sighing he pinched the flat bridge of his deer nose, dragging the fingers down with so much force that it was paining him a tiny bit.
"I don't ask, I just wanted to tell you."
"Yeah, thanks."
Next to him, he could see the shorter one letting his eyes run over him with a deadpan expression.
"Like, no matter whaaat you did-"
"I didn't do anything else besides smoking. Okay?"
"Sureeeee."
Putting his hands in the pockets of his large coat, he tried to take a deep breath , standing in a relaxed position, he almost immediately pulled his right hand out of the right pocket , as if the thing inside had stung him in his finger
Stopping himself from pulling it out, he let his hand inside, instead inhaling deeply, shutting the eye which he had wide open in surprise.
He didn't need to feel around to be able to know what it was that was inside.
Gripping it thightly, he bitterly started into nothing.
The round, smooth and cool glasses of his hot pink sunglasses sat perfectly in his cyan checkered leathery glove.
It was a promise.
We will see each other again soon.
Until then, he had a piece of him , one of his favorite accessories with him.
He would want it back for sure and then they would see each other.
He couldn't even toss it.
He needed his armband.back.
"You drive me absolutely insane."