Edited by: Waning_Crescents

The live performer just finished another song, bowing to the crowd in gratitude. Some sat on the sides whistling and others cheered joyfully from the dancefloor. Amidst all that, only one person didn’t engage in this spectacle at all. Cal had his arms put on the counter and his head rested on them while he babbled in his sleep.

Kristian on the other hand enjoyed his time with two ladies, one standing on each side of him. He had his arms draped around them, letting his charm run wild. The women giggled and leaned against his broad shoulders while they whispered sweet nothing into his ears.

“Someone is being naughty.” Kristian’s lips curled up into a bright joyful smile, barely able to restrain himself. “I’ll show ya two a great time later.”

One of the women winked and touched his chest in acknowledgement. “I can’t wait.”

“Uhm, isn’t that your friend?” the other woman remarked, pointing ahead of them into the crowd of people. “I think he got himself into some kind of trouble.”

“Hm?” Kristian, who still flirted with the other woman, turned his head to her. “I doubt it, he is sound asleep over there.”

His gaze wandered to the counter and the empty seat, where Cal just slept a few minutes ago. Kristian’s eyes widened in shock. “Fuck!”

Beside the dancefloor, Cal staggered to a random guy with his eyes narrowed and his vision blurred. “Hey, you! You wantsh shome trouble?”

“Huh?” The man turned around, who was at least four inches taller than Cal. “What’s your problem?”

Cal moved even closer and stared at the stranger. “You bupshed into me, apolologishze.”

The man raised an eyebrow. “Then watch your steps, shorty.”

Cal’s right eye twitched. “S-shortshy?”

“Get out of my sight or I will make you regret it.”

The young investigator’s eyes darkened. “I dare you.”

The man cracked his knuckles and a grin spread across his lips. “Don’t go crying to your mommy later.”

Cal’s eyes flared up in anger and as the other man sent a punch his way, he skillfully dodged it. Even with his vision clouded, his movements restricted, his agility remained.

Right at that moment, Kristian jumped in. “Hey, hey there. What’s the problem?”

“Your little friend needs to be taught some manners.”

Cal stomped with his right feet. “He ish a rude pershon. I need to deshtroy.”

“Now, now. Calm down.” Kristian tried to soothe Cal, but to no avail.

The young man shoved past him by spatting more insults towards the stranger, who just wouldn’t have it and went all out. For every punch he threw Cal dodged and returned some blows himself. Kristian, who tried to break this up, stood in the middle of all this. He had to dodge a few times as well and also blocked some incoming attacks, but in the end this all took a turn for the worse. Not only didn’t he manage to stop them, but even more people joined in on this.

Chairs got hurled around, tables broke and people either screamed out of fear or agony. The whole pub turned into a large-scale fight, where everyone threw punches at each other for no reason and the instigator of all this: a young five-foot-seven investigator.

It took Kristian around an hour to get Cal out of there and to his surprise the young man got away with just a slightly torn lip. Kristian on the other hand, took some punches for the sake of the other, leaving him quite in a disheveled condition.

Kristian walked inside the Conciliators apartment complex while supporting Cal —one arm slung around Cal’s waist and the other held onto the other’s arm that was draped over his shoulders— and let out an exhausted and quite annoyed sigh. “Was that really necessary?”

Cal nodded. “Yush.”

Kristian just shook his head in disbelief. “Alright, let’s just get ya home.”

“No!”

Kristian stopped in his tracks. “No? What do you mean no?”

“I don’t wanna go shome.”

Too tired to even ask about his reasoning, Kristian said, “I am not arguing with ya. Give me yar keys.”

“No!!” Cal protested. “I don’t wanna!”

“Stop acting like a little kid and give me the damn keys, Cal.”

“No! No! No!” Cal’s eyes narrowed. “I wanna go to that idshiot.”

“Huh?” Kristian blinked in confusion. “Why?”

Cal didn’t answer, but lowered his voice, acting like a kid demanding candy. “Go there.”

Kristian stared at him, not understanding why he urged to go to Sigal’s apartment.

“Let’s go, let’s go!!”

“Alright, alright. We are going there.” Kristian gave up in defeat as he didn’t have the energy to keep arguing with this stubborn man who acted like a spoiled brat.

One elevator ride later, they arrived at the third floor and stopped in front of Sigal’s apartment. It was already past midnight, not a good time to disturb someone without any notice, but Cal insisted with no end, so Kristian had no other choice but to knock.

“He will be so pissed off.” Kristian mumbled under his breath as the door opened.

Sigal answered the door with sweatpants and a bare chest, his bandaged arm visible. He gazed at the two of them with a frown on his face. “What’s this about at this hour?” Then he scrutinized Kristian’s appearance. “And what the hell happened to you?”

With disheveled hair, some bruises on his face and a tucked-out shirt which was partly torn in some places, he resembled more a thug or someone who just escaped a great catastrophe.

Kristian creased his brows and shifted with his eyes to the young man slung half over him. “He happened.”

“Look! There ish the idshiot!” Cal blurted out without restrain.

Sigal’s eyebrows twitched, but then directed his attention back to Kristian. “You got him drunk? How could you even go out with him at a time like this? You know it’s not safe.”

“He seemed like he needed it. Besides, I was there and kept an eye on him.”

“Did you?” Sigal knitted his brows as he grabbed Cal’s chin and slightly turned his head to the left, glancing at his bloody lower lip. “Then what is this? What happened to him?”

“I kikshed assh.”

“What?”

Kristian didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “He instigated a fight out of nowhere. To be more accurate, he went batshit.”

“Him?” Sigal raised an eyebrow. “He went batshit?” He pointed at Cal. “This one?”

“Yes!”

“Batshit…” Cal giggled, but then slapped Sigal’s hand away and glared at him. “Fight me!”

Sigal lifted his brows in surprise but then shifted his gaze back to Kristian. “How much did you let him drink?”

“Not much, no one would have gotten drunk off that. I have never seen someone being so weak to alcohol.”

“I kikshed assh” Cal repeated his words by lowering his tone with his lower lip pushed slightly forward.

“Yes, yes, ya did,” Kristian sighed.

A smile of satisfaction crossed Cal’s face.

“Anyway.” Kristian took a few steps forward, put Cal’s arm, which was draped around his shoulders, down and handed the young man to Sigal. “I am done babysitting for tonight. Take him!”

Startled, Sigal stretched his arms out to support his partner, but Cal steadied himself, flailing his arms around. “No!”

Sigal froze and blinked.

“What now?” Kristian asked.

“I can walk alone.”

Kristian let out an exasperated sigh and patted Sigal’s shoulder. “Have fun.” Then he rushed away.

“Hey!” Sigal clicked his tongue and glanced through the corner of his eyes at Cal, who staggered past him and into his apartment. His partner’s questionable condition stirred up some complicated emotions inside of him. What was he supposed to do with Cal now?

Sigal closed the door and turned around, where a piercing glare awaited him.

“You!” Cal tottered closer, while his index finger touched Sigal’s chest, pressing him slightly against the door. “You make no shenshe you damn handshome idshiot!”

Sigal eyed Cal helplessly. Not sure if that’s supposed to be an insult or a compliment…

“You alwaysh jusht babble thish and that and then act another way.” Cal kept going. “Thish ish annoying. Just tell me the trush!”

Then he put his hand away and lowered his head, his voice quivering. “Why…why don’t you trusht me? Why you hate me?”

Sigal’s eyelids drooped half-way down as he gazed at his partner. “I don’t hate you.”

Cal lifted his head, the hue of his eyes glimmering in full hope, but at the same time tears shimmered in his eyes. “Then why?”

Sigal let out a sigh. “Let’s talk about this when you are sober again.”

However, Cal’s expression changed for the worse. His brows drew together, and the corner of his mouth lowered a bit. “No! Now!! You alwaysh do that, you alwaysh avoid or hide thinsh.”

Sigal kneaded the space between his eyebrows, trying his best to not lose his temper with him. “Let me treat your lip first.”

“Don’t hurt!”

Ignoring Cal’s protest, Sigal folded his arms in front of his chest and gazed at the other with a stern expression. “Move and sit down in the living room.”

Cal just stood there unsteadily, taking one step in each direction to keep his balance, but still refused to follow Sigal’s orders.

“Either you go by yourself, or I will carry you there.” Remembering how Cal had reacted as he tried to support him —the reason still unclear— he gambled on the possibility that his partner would rather do what he asked of him than be carried.

Cal glared at him for a brief moment, but then turned around and stumbled along the hallway, almost crashing against the walls every so often.

Sigal followed after him, ready to catch him in case he lost his footing.

Upon entering the living room, there was an open kitchen to the left and right next to it rested a large couch with a coffee table in front of it.

Cal staggered through the room and almost stumped his knee on the table, but somehow managed to walk around it before he slumped down onto the couch. Through his clouded vision he stared at the mounted screen on the opposite wall along with little shelves attached around it.

Sigal walked into the kitchen and rummaged through one of the drawers until he found a tiny first-aid-kit for emergencies and took it out. He placed it on the counter, filled up a glass with water and walked back to Cal with both items.

Cal swayed on the couch from one side to the other with the corners of his mouth lifted up, forming his eyes into crescents. He looked like a little kid having fun for no reason.

Sigal moved in front of him and took a seat on the coffee table. He opened the kit and removed two cotton swabs and a tiny bottle of disinfectant from it.

“Stay still,” Sigal instructed.

Cal hesitated for a moment, but then said joyfully. “Ok.”

Now you behave, huh? You are such a weirdo.

Sigal dipped one of the cotton swabs in the glass of water and carefully dabbed on the wound to clean it. The wound wasn’t as bad as it appeared to be, it was only a slight cut on the edge of his lower lip, yet it was deeper than expected.

“You can’t just go and start a fight like that.”

Cal puffed out his cheeks. “I did fine.”

“That’s not the point,” Sigal remarked, “And stop making faces, I need to properly clean it.”

Cal did as told and after Sigal finished cleaning the wound, he grabbed the other cotton swap, put some disinfectant on it and gazed seriously at Cal. “This might hurt a little, but don’t move.”

“Mn.” Cal behaved like a good student, not moving, or complaining and even as Sigal applied the liquid, he neither flinched nor stirred.

“Ok, done.” Sigal put the bottle back into the tiny box, closed it and got back up from the couch. He stored the box where it belonged and threw away the two cotton swabs.

However, as he returned, Cal raised from the couch, his eyes filled with a hint of mischief. He staggered closer to Sigal and raised his right hand, letting his slender fingers wander to the right side of the other’s neck, caressing it. Then he tiptoed —wonkily— to draw closer to the other’s face.

“You know…” Cal’s voice sounded husky, almost seductive. “If you weren’t shuch a jerk, you would be quite the catsch.”

Sigal’s left eye twitched for a second, while Cal swayed slightly to the side, but Sigal caught him into a firm grip by wrapping one arm around his back. He curled his lip, grabbed Cal’s chin with the other hand and gazed deep into his eyes while his thumb traveled gently over his warm thin lower lip, but also ensured that he wouldn’t touch the wound. “Careful, or I will show you what kind of jerk I really can be.”

Cal stared at his partner as if in trance, but in the next moment his eyes welled up and tears rolled down his cheeks.

Shock crossed Sigal’s face, and he instantly let go. “I don’t—”

Cal stumbled back and dropped to his knees, wailing. “You are hurt because of me! I am shooo shooorry.”

“Huh?” Sigal stared at the other in a mix of confusion and helplessness.

“It…musht hurt and itsh…itsh all my fault!!” Tears dripped down to the ground as Cal let his head hang low, sobbing uncontrollably.

Sigal ruffled his own hair with one hand. “I am fine, and it wasn’t your fault either!”

Cal raised his head; his face all puffy and his eyes slightly swollen with a tint of redness in them. “You are notsh fine.” His eyebrows drew together, but tears kept running down his cheeks.

I’m really gonna kill Kristian for this! Sigal gnashed his teeth.

“I tell you; I am fine. Look!” He flexed his arm. “No pain, nothing.” Then he stretched out his hand. “Come, let’s get you to bed.”

Cal’s brows tightened even more, and he shook his head vehemently. “No, arm hurtsh.”

Sigal lifted his brows as it hit him. Was that the reason why he didn’t let me touch him? His emotions are all over the place, but this he still cared about? His eyelids drooped, while the corners of his mouth slightly lifted. What am I just going to do with you?

He retracted his right hand and offered his left one instead. “This one?”

Cal stared at it for a while, but then nodded. He grabbed the offered hand and climbed back up, whilst he wiped the tears away with his other arm.

He clung to Sigal’s left arm, while he let the other guide him to the bedroom, where he plunged down onto the bed. He snuggled into the pillow, closed his eyes and right before he drifted off into a deep slumber, he mumbled, “Don’t leave me alone…”

Sigal’s eyes twitched, but then his lips curved into a warm smile. “Do you even know how much you confuse me?” He moved closer and gently brushed a strand of hair out of Cal’s face, his smooth skin, and handsome features visible. “And that’s why I can’t put you into any more danger…”

As he grabbed the blanket to cover Cal, his eyes fell upon something that peeked out under Cal’s shirt. He let go of the sheet and narrowed his eyes as he lifted the edge of his shirt, revealing parts of bandages wrapped around his torso. What the hell is that?

No blood tainted the lint, yet Sigal grew suspicious. Was that what he used to treat my wound with? But why is he using them in the first place?

Cal stirred and turned, which made Sigal let go of his shirt, not wanting to wake the wasted young man. Confusion plastered his face as he put the blanket carefully over his partner.