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Let Me Hold Your Hands if They Ache

Summary:

“Is it your hands, bud?” He grabbed Rudo’s quivering wrists, and the kid bit down on his lip hard to hold back another mutilated noise of pain. It still squeaked past his lips, though, and Enjin cringed internally. “Rudo?” Rudo whimpered, coming to more so than before, eyes glancing around to try and figure out an escape. He shuffled back further into the corner, bony limbs thumping against the hollow tub as he tried to get away. Enjin bit his lip, hands letting go of Rudo as he made a very ineffective attempt to scramble away.

He didn’t want to scare him.

OR:

Rudo’s chronic pain goes grr and Enjin tries to help his feral little brother

Notes:

Hello hello all!

Sorry to those who actively follow me; this week has been BIZARRE. In a good way? I guess??

I’ve been meaning to try writing Rudo with his chronic pain. I don’t have chronic pain as bad as he does, but I do have experiences with untreated chronic pain, so this was fun :) maybe I’m just preparing myself for when I have to wear heels sometime in the next few weeks which will 100% make my ankle angry 😔

I GENUINELY HAVE NEVER FOUGHT WITH A FIC SO MUCH. WHAT THE HELL. I’m so sorry to anyone who’s reading any of my longer fics I LOVE making these one-shots but damn. I started this war and I’m winning it even if my writing sucks ass at the end.

ALSO GO CHECK OUT MY FRIEND AtidiTheSeer PLEASE!! They have a phenomenal one-shot that’s like OLD and still good. They’re newer to AO3 and I want them to continue writing I beg :((
https://archiveofourown.org/users/AtidiTheSeer/pseuds/AtidiTheSeer is their page I beg🙏

Anyway… I hope you all enjoy! Don’t forget to drink some water❤️❤️

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Enjin, the “nonchalant” man he was, decided that no, checking the time wasn’t necessary despite the training time he had budgeted out of his and Rudo’s schedule. He lazily trailed around other Cleaners in the cafeteria, sneaking food off of plates that did not belong to him until the early afternoon. Most of the people had filed out for jobs, or in Team Child’s case, a field trip. Enjin had figured that he’d entrust his little brother Rudo with being in charge of arriving on time, as if anything, he got more time to slack off and goof around. That was, until Semiu came over to terrorize him.

”Where’s Rudo?” She had asked cooly and sharp, heels clicking against the floor, alerting Enjin of his doom before she had even engaged with him. From his slumped position on the couch, he lolled his head over to look at her, a lazy grin forming on his lips.

”Probably perfectly on time. Just give him a minute, eh?” He smiled, dimples creasing as he tried to charm his friend out of his predicament. He, instead of pity, received a kick to his shins with her sharp shoes, and he curled over to rub it, hands once sprawled across the back of his resting spot now flying forwards as he took up a shrimp-like position to comfort the bruise.

”It’s been an hour since you that time slot ended Enjin. Either you train the kid  or you’re both going on a job today.” Semiu scoffed impatiently, arms crossing in a parental way that screamed disappointment. Enjin’s smile grimaced some, and he rubbed the back of his head.

”Then… do you want to go get him or…?”

”Enjin.”

”Fine fine.” He scoffed playfully, like him doing his job and her making sure he did it was a nuisance. He groaned as he swung himself off the couch, lazily stepping forwards. “It’s not my fault he slept in.” Enjin didn’t need to look back to hear Semiu grumbling to herself, likely pinching her nose, glasses sliding up the bridge of her nose as she shook her head with only so much disapproval. “See you later, boo!” He called, waving as he made his way to one of many sets of exit doors, Semiu stalking off without a reply, likely back to her desk.

Enjin kept a pep in his step as he navigated throughout the hallways, stopping to talk with a passing Gris, before he continued lazily, eventually making his way to Rudo’s door.

It sounded silent past the large chunk of metal on hinges, which was both promising and slightly concerning.

Enjin’s whole issue with Rudo sleeping in was that the kid didn’t sleep. Maybe this was just a one-off thing, where he was so exhausted from restless nights he needed one day to just crash. Fine. That’s perfectly fine with Enjin, because maybe he didn’t outwardly show it, but he worried for Rudo—for all his brats, actually—so dearly. Maybe he’d grown a bit more relaxed with Rudo’s schedule, being the title “one who gets no sleep” was automatically and naturally donned to Rudo who shrugged it off like nothing, like that was a core factor of him. Maybe they all believed it, as sure, it wasn’t a great characteristic, but it was still characterization of the chaos embedded into the boy with white hair.

But there were other versions of Rudos they were unfamiliar with. The Sphere-one, for example. How did that boy behave? Was he calmer? Angrier? From what Enjin could tell, without his father that rage seeped through his cracks more and more. How did he sleep up there? Most likely better without night terrors of his father haunting his mind, without the fear to sleep in case the ghost of his previous life came surging back into his skull. Rudo didn’t talk about his past life, as curious as they were. Yes, he explained how things ran up in Heaven, how cruel and unforgiving it could be based on birth status alone. But his personal life? They had, just like with the rest of his life, inferred he wasn’t ready to talk yet because the people he had cared for either betrayed him or died. It was traumatic and painful to the kid who was still going through trauma down here just by being paired with the Cleaners.

There was also one last form that Enjin knew of: how he saw Rudo. Only Corvus was to know of his relation to the Surebrec’s, how he so desperately craved that last name, to feel like he belonged. He knew Rudo to be a child, a little brother. Rudo, to him at least, was still akin to that little bundle cradled in his to-be beloved gloves, tiny fingertips marred with odd markings, which once one gave a look at Alto and Rudo’s shared features, didn’t seem too off. The thing that stood out most were those big, curious red eyes that were, yes, beyond horrifying but also so very earnest. That was how Enjin really solidified Rudo to be his little brother. Yes he had the white hair among the trash, yes he had the gloves that Alto wore, but those eyes.

Enjin saw his little brother to be curious and kind. Not angry or vengeful. Just a little guy who needed someone to look out for him, as he did lash out, but he felt horrible for it afterwards when the moment had passed, like he was possessed but couldn’t tell. Enjin had figured that maybe it was possession, as Alto had the same anger swirling him his own eyes as he abandoned his watch and clutched to his child before running off to the Sphere somehow.

Rudo was, simply, the most family he had ever been able to cling to. So Enjin clung.

His fist came railing into the door, rattling it on its frame.

”Ruuudoooo! It’s time to get up, little mans!” Enjin called, louder than necessary considering the ear-rape that had just occurred with his knocking. Enjin waited a minute for a response, hearing nothing. Not even a shuffle, or a hiss or an insult. Nothing.

The audacity of this kid.

Enjin scoffed playfully, arms crossing in little annoyance, but the emotion was still there. Okay. Fine. If it’s going to be that way, then it’s going to be that way.

”Don’t make me come in there.” Enjin called back to the silence, hoping that it would cease. Teens, typically, hated intrusions into their rooms, and Enjin was far from an acceptable person to be in any of his brat’s rooms thanks to the role of adoptive “family member” (he was not a father and wouldn’t think of himself as such, despite how all the brats acted, especially Riyo). So the threat was prominent and hopefully horrifying to prompt a curse or something his way.

But once more, silence followed, swallowing whole Enjin’s playful attitude and whatever point he was trying to make and spitting out a fear that curdled deeper into his chest.

”Rudo? I mean it. I’m coming in after a second. Be prepared.” Enjin asked one more time, seriousness solidifying uncertainty in his voice.

Once again, that quiet. No shuffles or grunts. Just nothing.

Thankfully for Enjin, the kid hated keeping doors locked, so he was able to push the door right open.

The room was dimmed with his blinds, little light seeping through and filtering across the trash and bare floors by his bed and entrance. His bed was empty, layers of blankets and sheets strewn across the end and cascading down to the floor, leading Enjin’s eyes to the next place to look, being his bathroom.

”Rudo?” He called out again, quieter, like he was approaching what could be a rabid animal. He wasn’t certain what was wrong with Rudo. Maybe it was nothing, maybe he’d been stabbed. It was always a toss up with the kid, and Enjin was, at this moment, not enjoying it.

He pressed the wooden door to his solitary bathroom open, fingertips barely pressing against the material to make it swing open.

And there, finally, his hunt for his most recent stray had ended.

Bandages were strewn across the floor, a medical kit ajar on the sink’s countertop. His gloves lay useless and abandoned nearby in a bowl of water, close but untouched.

Rudo himself was slumped against the tub and wall, white locks limp as his head continued to sag downwards.

”Oh shit.” Enjin hissed as he caught sight of Rudo, scrambling over to the teen. “Rudo.” He begged, large tattooed hands gently pushing his head up. His fingers curled around his soft cheeks, baby flesh molding into Enjin’s calloused  phalanges. His eyes were slipped shut, but he looked pale and he felt sweaty, his lips too white for it to be normal, agonized breathing following. “Rudo!” He cried out once more, a cold sweat of his own slipping down his back despite the layers he wore.

This kid had to be okay. Had to.

After another round of Enjin’s shaking, Rudo’s eyes slipped open, delirious and glazed. Enjin fell back on his haunches, an exhaust of relief pushing its way out of his lungs and into the world.

”What the hell, kid.” Enjin mumbled, trying to figure out what was wrong. Rudo grimaced, still coming to, curling up into himself. His hands spasmed painfully under bloodied bandaged, and Rudo whimpered, clawed fingers going to dig into his flesh.

”Hey,” Enjin scolded, figuring out what was wrong pretty quickly. “Is it your hands, bud?” He grabbed Rudo’s quivering wrists, and the kid bit down on his lip hard to hold back another mutilated noise of pain. It still squeaked past his lips, though, and Enjin cringed internally. “Rudo?” Rudo whimpered, coming to more so than before, eyes glancing around to try and figure out an escape. He shuffled back further into the corner, bony limbs thumping against the hollow tub as he tried to get away. Enjin bit his lip, hands letting go of Rudo as he made a very ineffective attempt to scramble away.

He didn’t want to scare him. Truly. He understood the fear, though. Of not trusting someone with injures. He himself had an issue when he first arrived at the Cleaners, Hell, before then even. But it dissipated, the fear rolling away with the ever-creeping trust that bloomed in his chest as he thought of his family.

He wanted Rudo to feel the same. Oh so desperately did he want Rudo to have that same warm, fuzzy feeling of his chest, of a person who belonged and was cared for. Because he did belong and he was cared for, but he just didn’t see it. Not yet, anyways. If Enjin had to be his glasses and magnify the love the people around Rudo permeated consistently and constantly, he would, because he too loved this boy in such a brotherly manner sometimes it stung.

”Rudo, it’s okay kid…” Enjin tried gently, unmoving as Rudo winced and whined against his pained spot in the corner. “Is it your hands?” The blonde tried to pry again, typical slyness washed away in concern. Rudo’s glassy eyes of not just fear but pain and tears glowered at him, a small sniffle shaking his frame, and in turn his arms. He whined again, eyes squeezing shut, before he finally nodded. Enjin let out a breath of relief. They were getting somewhere.

”Okay…” Enjin mumbled, shuffling ever so slightly closer before pausing as Rudo tensed. Something in Enjin broke, indignation flooding his frame—not at the kid, no—but at whoever made him feel like he had to respond like that, like a broken, wild animal that had no where else to go and no fight left. Enjin could tell the kid was exhausted, being he was literally passed out in his bathroom and the way he sagged and tried to lean onto whatever surface he could. Enjin also hated it.

”I’m not gonna hurt’cha, Rudo.” He mumbled gently, the noise vibrating his throat as he once more tried to crawl over slowly to comfort the kid. Rudo continued to shake and whimper ever so quietly, no longer trying to shy away, but he wasn’t looking at the blonde. Fine. This was workable.

Enjin began to unwrap what was left of the bloodied bandages sticking to Rudo’s skin, and suddenly, the kid thrashed out, whining and hyperventilating. “Woah, woah!” Enjin hissed out, arms once again flying backwards. “Kid, it’s alright!” He hissed out, shock giving his tone an edge. “What’s wrong? Rudo, please.” The blonde tried again, hands once more approaching, but Rudo impossibly curled further into himself, shuddering.

”’Tz… ‘ts ugly…” he slurred bast shivering lips, wild eyes landing shakily onto Enjin’s frame like he was going to hurt him. Enjin scoffed at both Rudo and the thought, wanting so badly to run his fingers into Rudo’s scalp but thinking better of it.

”I could not care less dude. Honestly.” Enjin responded, playfully rolling his eyes, hands patting his knees instead of haunting over the tiny teen, as Enjin realized with his massive frame, that might just be intimidating. Just maybe.

Rudo continued to glare weakly at him in visible pain, eventually relaxing some as his frame just couldn’t spend the energy. Enjin took that as a sign to try again.

”Can I unwrap the bandages on your hands?”

”…”

”…I won’t judge.”

”…every… everyone does…”

”…what if I throw in some candy?”

Something light and childlike swirled in his eyes, like the promise of sweets had restored just enough hope that Enjin was just going to continue being Enjin after this. After seeing the scars. After understanding why he needed those gloves and never took them off except for cleaning day, like today. Enjin got a hum in response, and a typical sly grin slipped right back into Enjin’s face.

”Yeah. There we go.” He smirked, his grin softening as he made his way to get up. “Let me get another bowl with some warm water. Don’t pass out again, please.” He said, catching Rudo’s gaze as he left the bathroom to look for another tub to fill with water that wasn’t occupied with gloves. Rudo sniffled, his hands laying limply against his legs as they quivered with pain again. He once more whined again, having less shame as he continued to make pained noises in front of Enjin as he didn’t seem to mind.

Rudo just wanted it to stop. The pain. Oh, how badly he wished it would just end.

He remembered how it was inescapable as a child. How he didn’t know the world for that want and craving to end it all and make it go dark and just disappear:suicide, he would learn later on. But of course he was just a child and didn’t understand such complexities, just the bare-bones wants and thoughts of one who thinks like they were the first to imagine it.

Another throb forced him to curl inwards, towards warmth and comfort and self-soothing tendencies.

He wanted to go home, now that he was with the Cleaners in this situation. They were nice. But they were not Regto, or his warm embrace. They were not his father with his gentle tones that rattled his chest as he spoke, much to Rudo’s childish curiosity. He wanted his dad and he wanted his home and he wanted out of here.

But that was not his reality, and it hadn’t been for a while.

A new ache bloomed in his chest, of longing and grief all together. He felt so alone, even if he could hear Enjin rattling around his projects-to-fix pile, curses streaming what he thought were quietly from his lips as more clattering ensued. He just wanted his dad and his home and the pain to stop—please, please just stop, stop, stop—

The pain, finding its forte in another one of its many crescendoes, made him cry out. His fingers locked up and tensed, he could feel the individual tendons pulling and twisting in ways they shouldn’t, the throb now a stab as it crawled with pins and needles up his hands to his arm to his chest and now it hurt to breathe and he who now couldn’t focus and he just wanted his dad or someone or something please just let the pain stop—

Something warm encapsulated his arms, damp and soft. It stung as it first landed on the molten skin, and his jaw quivered as another sob etched its way from his lungs. A rubbing motion found its way to his back, and he tried to focus on it, he really did. But it took a while for the pain to recede. Once it did. He caught sight of once white towelettes draped over his stiff and hurting arms, blood-ridden bandages gone and strewn across the floor. The blonde dumbass he referred to as his team leader was in front of him, watching his face with concern, one hand at his back doing the patting.

Enjin had slipped them off. Rudo knew as he came out of his daze.

Enjin had seen them. The scars, the marred skin underneath. The ugliness that tore people away from him, apart from three—one his father, another what he thought to be his best friend, and the other a supposed assassin who likely couldn’t see ugly.

He didn’t want to loose Enjin’s approval, his warmth, hell, even the teasing. But, delirious with pain, Rudo was convinced that was going to happen because of the black and red mottled skin that creeped up his arms, bands and patterns twisting into odd crevices, marking his as cursed and unnatural, marking him as something less than human.

Of course Enjin didn’t truly see it that way; no.

When he had laid his eyes on the scars as Rudo panicked and he had tried to relax whatever aches he was feeling with a warm towel, and he had paused. He had disgustingly paused as he caught a glimpse of what Rudo had been hiding for months. Maybe not hiding, but protecting with gloves and bandages, because they looked beyond painful and uncomfortable.

But alas, he had stopped and stared, trying to gather his bearings because he couldn’t believe it was that bad. It reminded him of the little patterns he had on his chubby fingers as a baby, clinging to his father’s shaken frame as he stared with the Surebrec’s iconic vibrant red eyes. He had realized, very quickly after that thought had spawned, that it was the same patterning, it had just grown.

What. The. Fuck.

Enjin thought it was just burn scars. That was what Rudo claimed them to be. But then again, the kid also had no clue he was from the Ground (probably, it was Enjin’s theory) or that his biological father wasn’t just a “turd brain” as he had claimed.

So Enjin just opted to rub Rudo’s back until he came to from the pain. He didn’t know what to do, or what helped, or anything. They had tried to pry but Rudo was a locked box, slinking away conveniently or waiting for a topic change, which was odd compared to how he typically answered questions head-on. Maybe he should have read more into it, because of course something was bound to happen with there luck.

The teen, once he no longer disassociated from the pain and realized what had happened, once more flipped out. He panicked and clawed and hoarsely screamed and scrabbled away, pained whimpers choking their way from his vocal chords, foaming in his haze of panic.

”Rudo!” Enjin yelped out again, not expecting to be doing this again. Enjin was almost blown back by how admitted he was over this whole fiasco and Enjin’s attempt at help, but then again, he wasn’t with how Rudo had treated the subject priorly.

He honestly didn’t know what to expect.

Rudo once more shoved himself into his corner, once again clawing at bare arms.

“Oh hell no—Rudo, cut it out!” Enjin ground out stubbornly, once again going to grab the white-haired boy’s raw arms. The grip stung against open skin, his sweaty and therefore salty palms digging into sensitive flesh. Rudo yelped in pain once again, and instead of pulling away like Enjin had been doing, he slipped his arms away from his arms and pulled the pained teen’s frame into his lap. Rudo tried in fear covered by rage to push away, to hide, to prevent this didn’t happen, but Enjin didn’t let go. No again, because that wasn’t happening. He could feel his agitated, quick breaths against his chest, and Rudo could hear Enjin’s elevated heartbeat as he was scared. He was scared for his little brother who was fighting his own body in a fight he barely imagined was there.

”Breathe, Rudo. Please.” Enjin tried, once again relapsing to rubbing his back in an effort to soothe the squirming form. He didn’t have the energy or will to truly fight back, to pound and fight and bite, but he tried to exemplify discomfort. But Enjin wasn’t letting go again because he knew this discomfort stemmed from his scars and not him necessarily. “Just follow my lead. You’re okay.”

It took a moment, but Rudo calmed. He followed the manual breaths Enjin was taking against his face that was practically smushed against his chest. Fortunately for Rudo, he didn’t hate physical contact, and Enjin had figured that out by now, otherwise the blonde wouldn’t have crammed Rudo’s body against his own.

Rudo’s hands still ached, yes, but his panic had made it invisible for a moment. As he calmed, it got worse. Enjin could feel his hands spasming limply against his sides, and he knew this moment was coming to an end.

”You feelin’ better buddy?” Enjin rumbled out, voice tones lower, trying to cover his own fear. He got a tired nod against his chest. They lapsed into silence again, Enjin wanting Rudo to speak up for himself, but he didn’t, so he continued instead. “…is there anything else I can do to help? What’s going on, Rudo?” Enjin rested his head on the very temping white mop in front of him, soft locks tickling his chin. They waited for another moment, and then the kid, once more, spoke.

”…the gloves… I was just tryin’ to wash them…” came his response, muffled from his face in Enjin’s chest. The older of the two hummed, and Rudo could feel as it vibrated out of his chest and vocalized into the air.

“Have you tried pain meds for the hands? When you’re cleaning them?”

”…no…” Rudo responded meekly.

That earned a sigh from Enjin. “…I’m guessing you have none in here, then?”

”…no…” the reply came back meeker. That earned yet another sigh from Enjin, and Rudo flinched. Enjin in turn to their wordless conversation moved his hand back to rubbing his back, reassuring and gentle.

”Why don’t we head back to my room then, huh? I’ve got fresh bandages and pain meds. Maybe they could help.” The blonde tried to negotiate. Rudo didn’t responded for some time, before he mumbled intelligible phrases that didn’t sound like disagreement; no, rather, it was more in reluctance agreement. Enjin tiredly chuckled.

The blonde scooped up the tired and hurting kid pretty easily, Rudo squeaking in mild surprise and likely pain before he continued to be silent. Enjin grabbed his soaking gloved and a random roll of bandages he had on the sink counter top before he left the bathroom and then the kid’s room.

He quietly made his way down the hallway, no sly comments or snarky teases slipping past his lips as Rudo battled against a fight that only he could feel. Enjin tried to shield his arms from random supporters who wandered the halls in hopes of straying away from Semiu and her hunt to find those available for jobs.

He arrived to his room pretty shortly all things considered, as they weren’t too far apart. The scent of smoke clung to the walls and whatever clothing he had strewn across various objects (but never the floor—he was lazy but still hated stepping on the cloth, the texture was just wrong), random wrappers of various foods tossed nearby his trash can but not always inside of it.

He placed Rudo on his messy bed, slipping away to the bathroom before returning with his gloves wrung out and getting tossed to his nightstand and on top of his lamp. He also carried more bandages and pain medication.

”Take two of these for me, yeah?” Enjin proclaimed, rattling the bottle before unscrewing the cap and handing them to Rudo, hearing his make disgusted noises as he dryly swallowed them down. Enjin then took one of Rudo’s hands, offering an open palm for Rudo to place his scarred one in, and started wrapping them.

It wasn’t in the style Rudo was used to, but it was still efficient. It still encapsulated his damaged arms snugly, like a compress to allocate a thin weight, to prevent the air from stinging him with its apparently sharp particles to his skin. Enjin was quiet, save for some reassurances as Rudo winced, the medicine not exactly working to its full capability yet.

”Your gloves will be done drying by tomorrow. I don’t know if you want them on before that…” Enjin rambled from beside the tired boy, fiddling with his fingers. “You feel better, though?”

”Yeah.” Rudo slipped out, drowsy eyes lagging to look over at Enjin. He smiled gently, not his typical sly tease, but his dimples still made their appearance. They slipped away after a moment as he prepared to ask questions, and Rudo tensed.

”Why’d you hide that, kid? Or, well…” Enjin scratched the back of his head, trying to find a better way to rephrase. “Why are you scared to show people?”

Rudo was once more silent. Because they were ugly? Because everyone who saw his scars thought he was a monster? Because it hurt him to see such expressions on people, especially those he has started to care for? So, instead, he settled with “…because.” Enjin scoffed, looking away. Not in disgust or shame, but more so in a jest, like he was trying to get a rise out of him to get more information. And Rudo, the rage-full child he was, fell for it. “It’s not my fault they’re disgusting and—and everyone on the Sphere called me cursed! It’s a reminder of my shitty father who—who did it to me!“ his throat closed up, thinking about that man. That mad who shared his DNA, who did this to him and killed people and whatever other marks he left on this world. Rudo hated it, he hated him, and he hated himself for getting so choked up on it.

Enjin, oddly enough, scrunched his eyebrows. “What?” He asked, looking over at Rudo in confusion. Like something wasn’t adding up. Rudo stared back, the anger fizzling away to his own confusion. Why was Enjin so concerned with that?

”What?” Rudo stated, wanting to draw more out now, wanting to know what Enjin did. The blonde looked away from his standing position, before he sighed and came to sit next to Rudo on his bed.

”I… I don’t think Alto did that to you, Rudo.” Enjin, after a great amount of time and consideration finally spoke. Rudo straightened up, scoffing.

”Then who else would have? Definitely not Regto.” He growled out, still sourly angry, shoulders hunched like he was a bristled cat. Enjin shook his head.

”No, Rudo—“ Enjin continued, before sighing and shaking his head again, but this time at himself. He looked away, before straightening up again. “I probably should have told you this before, but kid… I’ve met Alto. And you, for that matter, before.”

Rudo’s head shot up. What?

”You were a little baby at the time, but still… you. I don’t think Alto gave you those marks because you had the same thing on your fingers as a little guy.” Enjin bit out, looking away ashamed. Rudo stared back at him, processing.

”That still doesn’t prove anything.” Rudo grumbled, also looking away. Enjin hummed.

”Maybe not. But still. Knowing him, and being someone who’s benefited from his generosity, I just…” Enjin trailed off. They lapsed into silence again, before Enjin spoke again. “I’m sorry. I probably should have told you that before.” The older grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck. Rudo’s head shot up to look at him.

”Wh—well… yeah, probably.” He begun, before his empathy trailed off with a huff. “I dunno. I don’t tell you lots of things from my past, either. I guess.” He reasoned, a yawn slipping through his lips. Enjin perked his head up to look at the kid, a weak chuckle pushing his shoulders up. A large tattooed hand burrowed its way into his locks, fingers catching into knots and taking his head along for the ride and Enjin rubbed his scalp. Rudo tried to push him off, playfully scowling, but it was no use as Enjin’s short-term memory had already slipped away in thought of how to say something meaningful. Eventually, he settled on a simple:

”Thanks, kiddo. Thank you.”

Notes:

https://archiveofourown.org/users/AtidiTheSeer/pseuds/AtidiTheSeer … please go check them out please 🙏 seriously they such a good writer and I want others to appreciate their works. If you could consider leaving them kudos or a comment that would be phenomenal.

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