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The stretch of the blue sky reached the confines of the universe on that day. Nothing but vast acres of turquoise and cyan mixed together on an artist canvas. Sharpness reached out his hand, lying in the field of sunflowers that had bloomed a few weeks ago. Bugs always bothered everyone who mentioned visiting the site, but armour and years of living in the countryside had taught him better than to be afraid of ants.
There was no need to be scared. The place was so quiet, so devoid of humanity that it touched his self on a deeper level, one that was never accessible to anyone else, that remained hidden from the crowds when he sparred in the arena, spectators coming to either celebrate his victory or mock his useless failures.
For a while, until someone found him, if this ever happened, he did not need to be a bloodthirsty warrior, someone others should be worried about whenever he stepped outside of his – borrowed – base and walked three steps from spawn. Existing without the pressure of constantly proving he was the best appeared to be harder than expected, but Sharpness drew a long breath in and let his eyes close.
The sunflowers were brushing over his face, tangling their leaves into the blonde waves of his hair, not tied up anymore, let loose over the ground. There was something singular about removing one single layer, even the most trivial of his equipment. Without his hair up, he was not fighting.
He was not the apex predator of Strength, he was Sharpness. A man with too many lives behind him and too many to come. He was just a soul lost in the ocean of his peers, drowning slowly, peacefully, eyes closed and respiration steady. The communicator on his left, abandoned on the ground, beeped a few times, signaling the event currently taking place at spawn. A stupid get together that everyone had fawned over for the past days, muttering about their wish for a nice, cold beer, and the agreed truce among the members.
Sharpness had not said he would be present. He had never denied it either. He was simply lost in the vagueness of it all, pondering the pros and cons of going, mingling with masses of bodies and intricate minds, each producing their own thoughts and ideas. Ditching a social event was bad for his reputation, another element pointing towards his attitude, the cliché of him being the ‘lone wolf’, never trusting anyone, betraying teammates and refusing to give his all to anyone else. Whether it was true or not, Sharpness could not care less. He had not been invited here to have fun and forge long-lasting friendships. The letter he had received one day had been very clear: we would like to welcome you to Strength, where only the strongest survive. May luck and talent be by your side.
That was it. Eat or be eaten.
For months, his only goal had been to gear up, test his strength against other members and eventually climb the ranks, proving himself to be the best fighter. His presence was enough to send people into a frenzy, to disorganise their ranks and let the cold breeze freeze their expressions into panic. Now, at the top of the food chain, what else could Sharpness ever ask for? Had he not reached the peak, the one single objective of his life here? What was next?
His communicator buzzed again. A lower sound, muffled by the vegetation all around. The ringing was not the same as the community channel. It was a precise, customised ring tone he had not heard in weeks. Sharpness grunted. He should have thought about modifying it long ago, when the incident happened, but he had genuinely forgotten, too busy caring about protecting himself and his loot.
Sharpness thought about ignoring it. It was a one time thing. A single message that probably meant nothing. Hell, the person on the other side of the line had most likely fumbled with their screen and sent it to the wrong person.
There was no way–
It happened again. A second low pitched clear sound that resonated against the walls of his mind crystal clear. There was no need denying it. It was intentional and premeditated. He pulled it out of the grass and stared at the unfinished conversation.
Judelow:
Are you at spawn?
Judelow:
?
At least answer bro
Sharpness stared at the words until it became a puddle of nonsensical letters before his eyes. He put the communicator down. Reached for it again. Groaned. Every option on his list felt worse than the previous, and no amount of preparation could possibly protect his mind from the vicious parasite slowly growing inside his brain, infecting membranes and taking control of the site like it lived there.
Not that he could be mad, Sharpness himself had been considered a parasite by some for staying at their place without notice, coming and going as he pleased. But this had been physical. An intrusion that could easily be resolved with a few traps and well-versed threats. The kind of pain he was suffering from the psychological invasion could never be cured through talk and bargaining.
He took it in his hands and typed a quick answer.
Conexion:
No. Didn’t feel like it.
Judelow:
Where you at?
The question was so stupid that Sharpness laughed at the poor attempt at communication. Jude could not be serious. He had no reason to want to see Sharpness. They were not teammates anymore, the ravine between them deepening with each kill, each deception. Yet, he reached out a hand today. For what reason, Sharpness did not know. Whatever. He was so far away from spawn that Jude would simply be too tired to make the trip, mentioning another project that had been in his mind and giving up their conversation.
With a rictus too wide to be normal, Sharpness quickly typed his coordinates and let the communicator fall back between the flowers, closing his eyes, letting his hands rest on his stomach and allowing sleep to get the better of him.
“Earth to Sharp, one two three!”
Sharpness grunted, taking in a few elements at once. His hair was damp. Worse. It was soaked. When he sat up and ran a hand through it, he felt the tangled strands sticking together, water dripping from the ends. The day had progressed into a mush of hues darker than the pitch perfect blue he had fallen asleep with, and the sky visibly threatened to break in two and release its fury upon him. Rain cascaded down his back and arms, infiltrated his clothing under the armour, burning upon touching his skin.
And then, there was Jude.
Stupid bunny Jude who stared at him, drenched from the rain, a smile too wicked to be any good plastered on his annoying face. His hair was fuzzy from humidity, sticking in every direction, but his hands still wiggled around, excited at whatever plan he had mastered in the past hours. Sharpness felt the headache crawling back to the front of his mind.
“What are you doing here?” He asked instead.
“What do you mean? You gave me your position, of course I would come and say hi to an old teammate.”
Typical Jude fashion, Sharp thought, rolling his eyes. It would not be the first time the bunny took advantage of the situation to murder him in cold blood, laughing at his demise and gathering all of his belongings far away, where nobody else would ever see it again. Sharp had wanted this day to be restful. Not interrupted by a bored trapper who had nothing better to do than bother him.
“Come on, don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not lying,” Jude pouted, way too good at acting to Sharp’s liking. “Can’t I just want to see you?”
“You don’t do that. You never do that.”
There was a stretch of silence between them. It sat heavy between their bodies, the rain muffling every other sound of the server. There must have been agitation at spawn, where the event was organised. They had most probably found refuge under one of the large booths scattered all around the community centre, or maybe even relocated in someone’s base, enjoying the pitter patter of the rain hitting glass windows while they observed from inside.
Sharp sighed. He would give everything to be anywhere but in the middle of a field at this instant. There was nothing worse than the dampness of the body.
“Well, I do now. Come on, let’s get going,” Jude said, holding out his hand for Sharp to take. They judged each other for a few seconds before Sharp finally ceded, accepting the unusual help.
“How far are we from your base?” Sharp asked.
“A good ten minutes away if we fly, by foot it would be… I don’t know, an hour or so. That’s so you to decide to isolate yourself in the middle of nowhere while everyone is gathering. You’re never going to beat the allegations.”
“I don’t care about that—” Sharp answered, perhaps too quickly, biting his tongue at the bad habit of responding. Jude smiled. This idiot had anticipated the counter argument too easily. “Anyways, why aren’t you with them?”
Jude shrugged. “Didn’t feel like it. Tai would have probably tried to kill me anyway, I’m not in the mood for revenge.”
“That’s surprisingly suspicious of you.”
“Trapping and murder are not the only thing on my mind you know,” Jude huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I can’t believe I traveled this far just for you to be an insufferable prick.”
“Nobody asked you to do anything, you inflicted this upon yourself.”
Just as Jude opened his mouth to retort back, lightning broke out, cutting them short of words, sending a tree down. They watched where thunder came from, deducing easily that it was coming their way, and that if they refused to move in the next minutes, they would be struck too. Like the tree.
Sharp turned back to Jude, taking in the sight of his ears pinned back, stuck to the wet hair in fear, the tremor in his eyes and the shaking of his hands.
“What do we do now? Can’t fly with the weather being this moody,” Sharp said.
“Do you want to walk back?”
“Under rain like that? I would rather die.”
Jude observed him, an eyebrow raised, braving his own fear to be bitchy once more. Sharp hated his behaviour as much as he relished in those little moments of life, those that made him feel like his existence was not reduced to killing.
“Whatever floats your boat, but walking or not will not change the fact there is a storm coming. So dig down and get us comfortable before we both die of hypothermia,” Jude ordered, getting his own shovel out of his bag and digging a hole under their feet.
Without questioning the strange request, Sharp imitated him, soon finding himself standing in a little underground base lit up by makeshift torches and heated by the furnace. Jude had gathered the last of his provisions and got meat to cook inside while they waited. For the rain to stop. For the calm to settle. For this tension around them to ease and allow them a semblance of normalcy.
The walls were cold, stone embracing them entirely, rows upon rows of boring, uninteresting grey blocks too bland to look at without seeming suspicious. Sharp stood by the stove and watched the meat grill slowly, its redness turning brownish by each passing second.
Thunder echoed stronger above them, particularly strong lightning striking the ground and shaking their base. Every time one of those hit nearby, Jude shivered, sitting in the far corner, his knees close to his chest and his arms encircling his body. Such poor attempt at comfort should have made Sharp laugh, pointing to the fact the server’s best trapper was reduced to the mere shadow of himself by a few thunderbolts, but the sight of Jude trembling, small and frail, sent another sort of warmth in his chest. It rose to his neck, flushing on its way up, until finally, it reached his ears. The tip burned in shame, and Sharpness quickly turned his attention back to the stove.
“Are you hungry?” He asked.
“Not really,” Jude muttered back, bringing his knees even closer.
“Are you scared of storms?”
“What? No. No I’m not.”
“Jude, you’re shivering, your ears are pinned back and your eyes cannot focus on anything. You’re scared.”
“Why does it even matter?” Jude seethed, his teeth gritting in a poor attempt at intimidation. Sharp only felt growing fondness at his defence. “It’s not like it’s important. You’re just going to take advantage of it, won’t you?”
“How could I possibly take advantage of the storm?”
“I know you. You’re gonna find a way to use it during fights, and since you know, you’ll just abuse it. Anything to win against me, am I right?”
Sharp turned the stove off and grabbed a semblance of plate, gathering the meat inside. Once everything was cooked and ready, he brought it to the corner where Jude rested. His nose sniffed the plate without meaning to, and once he realised his mistake, Jude refused to meet Sharpness’ eyes.
“We’re both stuck underground until this settles, don’t be a bitch and eat this. If you pass out, I’m not carrying you back to your base.”
“Fuck you,” Jude muttered, grabbing a piece of beef and munching on the side. “This is not even well done.”
“Yeah, I know, now eat.”
They stayed side by side, simply taking slow bites onto their pieces of meat and rarely exchanging any word to address their situation. They had been in close proximity before, had teamed up and shared nearly everything. This was nothing new. But being this close after their idyll had shattered to pieces meant something else. Peace. Renewal.
Hope, perhaps?
Sharpness did not want to get ahead of himself. Jude hated his guts, relished in the feeling of killing him in the most pathetic and unfair way possible. If he could get a good laugh out of Sharp’s misery, then he considered it a nice addition.
Once their so-called meal had ended and the coldness of the base caught up to them, they lost their attention on any detail they could get their eyes on. Anything to not think about the steady presence by their side.
Jude folded first.
Unwillingly. A loud, rash lightning bolt hit the ground above them, sending their torches off the walls and turning the base into a dark hollow. Jude shrieked, quietly muffled his voice and stuck his back to the stone, searching for an anchor amidst the misery of their situation. Sharp could almost hear the beating of his heart, so rapid and strong against Jude’s ribcage. He had half the mind to reach out a hand and put it over Jude’s chest to check, but his rational thoughts refused to let it show.
Instead, he simply got up, replaced the torches and sat back down without mentioning the episode. Jude gave him one single glance, silently thankful.
Rain intensified. Soon, the entire server would become an immense ocean, drowning in its own hubris. Sharp did not even think about the event happening at spawn, did not spare a second of attention for the unlucky souls who were suffering the same predicament as he did.
All he could hear and see was Jude’s presence by his side, so steady and tense that he even feared breaking him if he laid a hand on his shoulder.
“This is never going to stop,” Jude sighed out, a nervous laugh wrecking him. “Should have stayed home and worked on new blueprints instead of doing whatever this is.”
“What are you working on right now?”
“Why? Interested in contracting me to build one for you?” Jude snickered, his usual smirk slowly taking place.
“I won’t know until you explain it to me.”
And that seemed to work.
Jude lost himself in long, stretched explanations of new red stone mechanisms, pistons and wind charges to activate this and that button, which in turn would potentially push blocks apart and create a situation where— Sharp tuned the conversation out. All he had wanted was to get Jude’s mind out of the storm. He did not care for the complicated mechanisms that powered Jude’s traps or whatsoever. He was actually pretty sure he would never understand it by himself, so each word entered one ear, simply to leave through the other, never leaving a lasting mark in his mind. At least, Jude had relaxed. His fingers had unclasped around his tunic, and his eyes sparkled back to life.
It was oddly endearing to watch him talk with so much eagerness. Sharp felt one more tug at his heart.
Oh.
Sharpness observed him again, unable to focus on anything but the vivid feeling of desperation that ran through his veins.
Oh. Fuck.
In a cruel twist of fate, Sharpness realised that he liked this idiot. Liked his stupid traps and liked seeing him smile every time he fell inside like a dumbass, too dumb to suspect any to begin with. Liked the way his ears always depicted his emotions, even if his face remained still. Liked the passion with which he explained every trap he had built to Parker, and the glint in his eyes when it worked precisely how he wanted it to.
Jude was a riddle few were lucky to even observe in their life. And Sharpness? He had made it his mission to understand it, no matter the cost.
“Are you even listening to me?” Jude asked, out of breath. He had been talking to himself for some time, and had only started to notice Sharpness’ attention. “What’s the point in asking me if you won’t listen?”
But no matter what he said, Sharp still only stared at the movement of his lips when he spoke, the subtle shake in his eyes and the agitation of his ears. How had Sharpness been able to resist this temptation for so long? How had he not noticed that the only one able to match him was also the person he had hunted ever since his first day here? Every nerve of his body was on fire.
He needed this man. He needed him in the most aching way, as two halves reuniting and forming one single core.
His gaze must have been fixed on Jude’s lips for quite some time, because he barely registered when he was shoved away.
“You’re so weird, you don’t even answer me.”
“Jude—” He repeated his name. A second time. Jude watched him, puzzled and slightly distraught. Jude. That one syllable tasted so good in Sharp’s mouth, like it had been made just for him to pronounce.
“You’re acting strange.”
“Jude, do you like me?”
Jude stared at him, taken aback by the sudden question. What the hell was going on inside Sharpness’ head? Why was he so unexpectedly questioning the shaking bases of their relationship? Not that Jude hated him, far from that. He felt a strange sort of respect for their top fighter, and some pride for having teamed up with him before. But he also knew that he had failed in keeping up their arrangement because his feelings had caught in the web of it all, sending them both plummeting to their demise. There was no repairing the broken vase.
Only coating the cracks in gold and hoping it still looked as good.
“What is your problem?”
“I think I like you,” Sharp said, his gaze still fixed on Jude’s lips, unable to detach himself. He had never felt such urge to press himself against another person, simply to share warmth and physical affection.
“Don’t say stupid things,” Jude answered, his cheeks growing hotter every second, turning his face away.
“Do you like me?”
“Geez, you’re so persistent!” A laugh came out of his mouth, too nervous to appear natural. Jude tried to hide it, but only made it worse by covering the bottom half of his face with the back of his hand. As soon as he did so, Sharp grabbed his wrist and forced him to remove it.
The contact was nice. Too comfortable and warm to Jude’s liking. It revived old feelings he had tried to bury underground for too long now.
“Jude. I know we can’t repair the past. But let us dream about the future,” Sharp said, his voice steady, his words assured. He was surprised by his attitude too, bewildered by the ease with which every syllable came out. Now, he was never the greatest poet, and Jude probably found him cringe, but this was a truth from his heart.
“Why do you tell me that now?”
“Because I feel it. Do you not believe me? Do you need me to prove it?”
“… I don’t know,” Jude admitted. “I guess I don’t really believe you.”
“Then, would you let me prove myself?”
Jude pondered a second or so, before nodding. With all the courage in the world, he faced Sharpness. The next moment, his chin was being held by rough, calloused hands, grip so light it almost appeared inexistant. The few centimetres of distance between them held the last remains of their patience.
Then, Sharpness closed it.
His lips were slightly chapped, the result of years of sword training in the wind, of roughness and missed treatment days. Against him, Jude was almost pliant, reduced to a mush of emotions and conflicting feelings. The urge to press against Sharp was inevitable, too strong to ignore. He dived right back in, letting his instincts take control as his position shifted. Now on his knees, arms circling Sharp’s neck, he let this man explore the depths of his soul, rummaging through months of piled up unsent love letters and scrawny confessions that never saw the light of day.
Jude whined, pulled away, breathless, and settled his eyes over the silhouette right in front of him. Sharpness was always so composed usually, a mirror of his fighting techniques. But right now, with the furious blush over his face and pants, he seemed far away from the image people usually got of him in the wild.
So beautiful, Jude thought, remembering all the times he saw Sharp walking around his base in the past, completely unguarded and peaceful, sprawling across couches and muttering about anything and everything. Now that Jude thought about it, this strange ritual had felt oddly domestic. They always ate together in the evening, discussed tragedies and wished each other good night before disappearing in the myriad of hallways. It was no wonder everyone thought they had secretly gotten married. Everything pointed in that direction after all.
His thinking was interrupted by a pair of lips wandering over his jaw, neck and collarbones, leaving a trail of red marks in their wake.
“Hey, stop,” Jude warned him. “Everyone is going to talk.”
“Let them.”
“No, not before we settle… whatever this is,” Jude made a gesture towards the air between them, “first. We need to talk, no matter if you like it or not.”
Sharpness pulled a face, so similar to a dog pouting, that Jude almost took pity on him. He could have kissed him back on the spot instantly, if not for his reason kicking him in the chin and shaking those corny thoughts away.
“Sharpness,” he warned again.
“This is so stupid. I like you. You like me. Why can’t we just move on like that?”
“Because it’s not that simple. Now get off of me.”
While they moved around, the sky emitted one last growl, before settling back to nothingness. They waited a few minutes, patiently expecting another outburst in the storm, but nothing came. Sharp told Jude to stay where he was, and that he would check the weather outside. Sure thing, when he came back, he exclaimed that the rain had stopped.
They both gathered their stuff and left the base, eager to bid their goodbye to it. With the storm now behind them, they were free to fly back to spawn.
The flight was silent, interlaced with underlying affection not yet bubbling back to the surface. Sharpness kept turning to see if Jude followed him, letting out a relieved sigh when he noticed that, yes, Jude was still there, and that, no, he had not fled, left him in the dark and relocated to another server as quickly as possible.
Not that he thought Jude would do that. But any possibility was a possibility.
When spawn came into view, they dropped by Jude’s base. Nobody else seemed to be around, the quietness overwhelming the small city they had built all together, made from scratch and personal architectural taste.
“So,” Jude started.
“So?”
“What happened today.”
“Didn’t you want to give yourself time to think about it?” Sharpness asked, his lips curling to the side in an irritating smirk. Jude smacked his arm.
“Shut up. You’re a core loser. I’m going back inside.”
Jude had barely stepped foot on the first stair leading to his base when he felt a tug on his wrist. The strength used was just enough to make him lose balance, sending him right into Sharp’s chest. Any complaint was swallowed back, dissolved by the sweetness of the kiss they shared together, in the open. Jude forgot to check his surroundings for potential witnesses, losing his mind in the sensation of Sharp against him. His hands tangled in those blond locks, twirling a loose strand between two of his fingers.
They eventually parted, but Sharp’s hands remained over Jude’s waist, a quiet reminder of their acts.
“Alright, now you can go,” Sharp said.
Jude rolled his eyes. “Possessive loser.”
Detaching himself — and regretting it the moment it happened — Jude finally entered his base. He refused to look back, too aware of the burning of his face and the giddiness traversing his body. The last thing he heard before locking himself up into his room and screaming into his pillow was Sharpness’ voice.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Jude.”