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“All I need is– what? I’m not doing that!” He sputters, backing away two steps after he heard what the man wanted from him.
“All you need is a drop of blood obtained through a sacrifice from your closest alliance.” The other prisoner drops a rusty dagger between them, and Feinberg glances back and forth from the weapon and the man giving it to him. “Don’t you want to get out of here?”
“I– there’s no way I’m–” He pushes the old dagger away from him, but it only gets nudged back into his side of the cell.
He points directly behind him to another hole in the wall where it showed the inside of another cell. “He’s your closest alliance, isn’t he?”
“...He’s my only alliance.” Feinberg snarks back, eyeing the blade before wrapping his hands around the handle and lifting it up to inspect.
“Does it have to be his blood?” The man across from him huffs and crosses his arms at his question, raising an eyebrow.
“Are you trying to play me, boy?” There’s a slight joking tone, but the older prisoner also seems to be dead serious, and Feinberg isn’t really willing to take the guy who gave him a dagger in a fight.
“No, I’m just asking a clarifying question,” he sasses in reply, putting the weapon back down. He steps back, looking at the blade once more before lifting his hand up to wordlessly tell the guy to give him a minute.
Couriway waits for him in the hole between cells, leaning on the ledge of the wall and watching Feinberg chat with the other prisoner before he returns, making the avian perk up at the sight of his partner. He shoots out a hand to keep Couriway from hitting his head on the rough edges of the broken wall with how fast he lifted his head up. He barely flinches when his knuckles scrape against the rubble, shaking away the slight sting of pain as Couriway stares at him with a confused expression, questioning on why he came back empty handed.
“Did you not get anything in return for the pickaxe?” Couri asks, and Fein rubs the back of his neck.
“I did, but I don’t know what to do for the next thing he wants for the keys.” That’s a lie. He does, but he also doesn’t want to do what’s required either, so he’d rather not entirely.
“You were talking to him for quite a bit, what did he say?”
“He wants a drop of blood– is there anything over there for you to possibly kill or–?” He peers past Couri, and the avian also turns around to look before shaking his head, and Fein’s expression curls up into one of displeasure. He looks back at the other prisoner spinning the keys around his finger, and it feels like the guy is deliberately taunting him with this.
“He wants a drop of blood from my closest alliance,” he spits out bitterly, sitting down against the wall and pulling his leg up.
“Oh, that’s not too bad, why do you sound so–”
“You're my closest alliance, Couri.” Fein pulls himself back up, reaching for the avian’s hand resting on the broken bricks, intertwining their fingers and bringing it up to his face, resting his cheek against their connected hands with downturned eyes. Couri’s knuckles are cold. He misses being close enough to the avian to share body heat.
“...What’s so bad about that?” He questions, opening his hand and making Fein let go so that he could cradle his face, thumb sweeping over his cheek as he waits for the man to look at him, eyes downcast and looking away.
“You know me, Couri,” gently, he presses a kiss against his lover's palm before looking up at him with a soft expression. “You know how much I don’t like doing something that might actually harm you.”
“You’re so sweet…” Couri coos, and Fein hums, pressing further into the cold hands. He feels lips pressing against his forehead, and he purrs into it, fingers running through his hair as he gives a silly smile in return to the affectionate touch. “As cute as you are with this, we do need to get out of these cells, so c’mon,” Couri pokes his nose, making him scrunch up his face at the touch.
Reluctantly, he pulls out of the avian’s touch, eager to return so he wordlessly picks up the dagger from the other prisoner and returns to where Couri was waiting. It’s an old looking blade, probably dull, but the tip might be pointy enough to draw blood and finish it there. His partner already offers his hand for him to take, and he laces their fingers together again, pulling close and pressing a kiss against the back of Couri’s hand.
“Ready?”
“You know me. I’m always ready for you.”
Fein keeps his eyes averted from Couri’s face as he presses the very tip of the dagger against the avian’s finger, pressing until it draws blood. Immediately, he tosses it to the side, pressing his finger pad against the fresh wound before lifting his hand up and licking the red away. Couri pushes him away with a slight flush coloring his cheeks, and he grins brightly before walking back over to the older prisoner and showing the dot of blood staining his skin, getting a disgusted scoff and keys thrown at him.
With a bright grin, he picks them off the ground and shows them to Couri who claps happily, the same amount of excitement shining in his eyes. He fumbles slightly with the keys, reaching through the bars and pushing the key through the lock, kicking the door open and scrambling to go and open up Couri’s cell too. He starts uncontrollably giggling when Couri leaps into his outstretched arms, laughing into the kiss they share immediately, cheeks hurting from smiling so much.
“Missed you,” he mumbles against Couri’s lips, and his lover only giggles breathlessly before replying with “how could you miss me? We just saw each other!”
Rolling his eyes, he clarifies himself. “I missed being able to hold you. Is that better?”
“Now that makes sense.” Couri teases, going onto his tippy toes and pressing a kiss against his jaw, unfurling his wings and squirming out of Fein’s arms to leap down below, his partner following after, jumping over the railing and landing below, barely wincing at the slight pain it sends through his legs.
Now the fun can actually begin. A thousand years trapped here doesn't sound so bad anymore with Couriway's hand in his.