Space AU (Part Two) (NSFW)
Day 45
When Logan wakes it's not morning yet, not really. It's getting there though and he wonders if Neil brought any food.
They need money, badly, and Logan takes advantage of the small built in U.I.S. in the wall too read up on earth clothes and how much they can be worth. The Jeans alone are worth more than enough to get them home, it's all a matter of finding a buyer. The right amount of time spent in the right shit hole ought to find them a dealer though, it's simply a matter of finding him something else to wear while they deal.
He doesn't wake Neil as he starts to dig through the other boy's things, looking for extra clothes and money. If Neil's brought Logan's real papers as well, he thinks he might have enough in his account to buy some simple clothes. Maybe.
"Wake up," he says quietly, nudging the other boy's shoulder. "We gotta get going."
---
My mind startles away, like a switch being flipped in my brain, and I bolt upright in the bed, eyes wild and my hand already reaching for a weapon. Anything. Yeah, I might be a little on edge. But then I see Logan standing there, and everything comes flooding back.
"Jesus... Fuck. I didn't mean to sleep so long," I mutter, heart hammering in my chest as I reach up and rub my hand over my face. I blink up at him, standing naked in the tiny room, and I ask, "You planning on going out there like that? We won't get too far."
---
"I can't wear the clothes, we need to sell them," Logan replies simply. "You bring anything other than the shit you were wearing?"
---
"Didn't wanna carry much baggage... I ditched a lotta shit at the last place I stayed," I say, reaching over the edge of the bed for my pants and tugging them on. Standing up, there's so little room I feel like I'm standing nearly on top of him, shoulders brushing as I pull on my shirt.
"Wait here, okay? I'll go downstairs. See if they got anything we can use 'til we find something better."
---
"Yeah, alright. I'll start packing," Logan agreed, kneeling down when there was room and moving to gather everything up and pack it away.
He stopped when he reached the medical supplies, popping it open and digging around. It looked like Neil had gotten a bit of everything and Logan checked each needle until he found something he wanted. He'd never been big on drugs, medical or otherwise, but he knew what an anabolic steroid was. There wasn't much, but Logan shot it up anyway, closing his eyes as the needle slipped into his vain.
He put it back when he was finished, wanting to leave as little trace behind as possible, and then packed up the medical kit as well before moving to sit on the bed and wait.
---
There's a clothes bin downstairs in the back office that the woman lets me raid. All shit prior guests have left behind. I grab an armload, nodding in thanks to the woman on the way past, snatching up a couple of protein bars stacked up on the welcome table and make my way back upstairs.
I punch the code on the door, waiting for the panel to slide open before slipping inside. There's one crazy moment I'm afraid he won't be there, so when I find him waiting for me on the bed, I can't help the quick whoosh of a sigh that bursts out my mouth.
The door shuts behind me and I dump the clothes on the bed. "See what you can find in this."
---
It's all shit, ugly shit, and Logan sighs as he settles on a pair of old dark brown leather pants and a white sleeveless work shirt, like the pilots sometimes wear under their jumpsuits. there's a pair of brown leather work boots as well, the sole coming undone on the left foot, and he pulls those on as well, tired of being barefoot.
"Everything's packed. You think you can find us a dealer if we hit the bars?" he asked, glancing over. That had always been more Neil's talent, finding the biggest scumball in the room.
Hell, how else would he have met Logan?
---
"Yeah, I can find someone," I say, holding out on of the food bars to him and shrugging on my coat. "I'm not sure you should be going out there, Logan. They'll be all over you in this place. Those bastards are everywhere."
I take the time to look at him, actually look at him, and my chest aches. Hands itch to touch him. To get him home and make sure he's safe. I never was the one to do that. 's always been the other way around with us, and I know it's tough for him, this role reversal. But this is something I gotta do. I gotta be the one to take care of him for once.
I reach out and rest my hand on his arm and smile at him as much as I can manage, but my eyes feel tight and liquid. Vision hazy-blurred and I don't want to leave this room. Don't want to go back out there, 'cause in here it can just be us and everything seems okay. But out there...
"We should go," I say, clearing my throat and pulling away to slip the med-kit and papers back into my coat pocket.
---
Logan nods, pausing to grab one last thing from the pile of clothes. He tugs the hat on easily and nodded towards the door as he starts to eat and follow Neil.
"I've never been here before. You?" he asked quietly.
---
"This moon? Nope. Logan, you know I haven't been off-world," I remind him, checking the room one last time before I slip out into the hall. "There's a bar, near the center of town, that'll be a good place to start. That is, if I can trust what I've been told. But it's dangerous. Real fucking dangerous, and I need you to lay low, okay? Let me do the talking for once."
---
"Fuck you, I don't always do the talking," Logan insists, sulking just a bit. "You want to play tough guy for a change, be my guest."
---
"And you wanna sulk, be my guest, but you'd still be stuck in that place if I hadn't risked my ass to get you out, so don't try to act like I'm playing a fucking game."
I push through the doors, taking the stairs 'cause I've heard enough times that lifts'll only get you in trouble. They're a good place to get cornered, and I'd rather things go as smooth as possible. The urge to reach out and take his hand is damn near overwhelming, but I squash it down and shove my hands in my pockets instead. No point in drawing any more attention to ourselves.
The bar's within walking distance. Keep your head low, your eyes ahead. Look like you belong there. It's easy enough to make it there unnoticed. If we've got a tail, I don't see 'em, but I never was an expert for that kind of shit anyway.
I yank open the door and hold it open for Logan, daring to meet his eyes for the first time since we left the boarding house.
---
Logan meets Neil's eyes with his own, but doesn't say anything, doesn't even give the boy a nod right away, staying silent until they find a booth. "You got money?" he asks. "We'll stick out like a sore thumb if we're not drinking something. I'd kill someone for a beer right now anyway. You hit my account up for that cash I had saved? Wasn't much, but it'd have been good for spare pocket change."
---
"Logan, I spent every fucking cent I had to get me here. That money in your account, there's still a little left, but we can't get it out now. You know they'll have it marked. They'd be on us 'fore we could get out the damn door."
Sighing, I nod for him to sit down, turning toward the bar and throwing a, "Just wait here," over my shoulder at him.
I find a mark easy enough. Someone I can play quick without drawing too much attention. Getting men to buy me drinks was always pretty fucking easy. It's not all that hard for me to flirt my way into him buying one for the boy sulking at the booth in the corner too.
"Don't ask what the fuck it was I just promised that guy," I mutter, dropping a bottle of beer in front of him, "I'm just hoping he's drunk enough that he passes out 'fore he can come to collect."
---
Logan frowns, but it doesn't stop him from taking the bottle and giving the guy in question a curious look. "Whatever. You see anyone of interest?" he asks, glancing around casually. Back home it's easy, they know people back home. Here it's a matter of guesswork.
There are more than a few shady characters, always are in bars like this though, and it takes Logan a while to single anyone out. There's a guy at the bar who looks like a dealer, but judging buy the gun he's obviously packing under his coat, bounty hunter is probably more like it. That's not unusual for a moon. No better place to hide out if you're running from the law. Good money in bounty hunting too, quick trip to here or there and you'll make the money you spent back threefold if you get your guy.
Another guy, just a bit closer, well he looks more their type. Thin and uneasy. Nervous. Probably not the best dealer in town, but he doesn't look likely to give them shit. "What about that guy?" Logan asks with a nod.
---
"He'll do," I nod, knocking back nearly half my beer and sliding outta the booth again.
I saddle up to the guy, all smiles and confidence and a flash of the merchandise, and it's easy to get him to agree to meet us out back. One last murmur in the guy's ear, "Five minutes," and I'm heading off toward the door, a quick nod to Logan to let him know to follow. Can't do business here, even in a place like this. Too many eyes watching.
---
Finishing his beer, Logan follows without pause, never more than a step behind the other boy, the brim of his hat low to cover his eyes.
The guy looks nervous, and if he's packing he's packing something small. Logan's pretty sure he's a lackey gone solo, but how good the guy is doesn't matter as long as he's got the credits to pay them with. Hell, at this point they'll take any offer they can get, so long as it's enough to get the fuck out of here. This loser's probably about to make himself a great deal.
---
The thing about people who're trying to lie low is that they always fucking look like they're trying to lie low. That's the thing that usually makes his job so fucking easy, but this time it's a little different. This time they seem sort of adept at running and for a moment Joe wonders what they've run from before now. It doesn't matter in the end, but he's gotta admit that he's a little curious.
They've seen him. At least, the tired looking one looks like he has, but that's not a problem. Never is. When they leave, as he's been expecting them to do for awhile, he gets up to follow, gun heavy against his leg. They've picked up some nervous looking dealer and a couple minutes after they leave, he takes off behind them, so Joe follows, hanging back to make sure they don't see him this time around.
---
We send the guy scurrying off down the alley, smirk stretching my face at the rush of a successful deal, and a wad of money weighing down my pocket. I reach out to tug Logan closer, knocking his hat back with my index finger and deciding to risk enough to lean in and steal a quick kiss. We're going home, I think, but I don't get the words out, 'cause that's when I hear the scrape of boots on gravel right behind him.
It's awkward, tugging someone noticeably bigger than me outta the way, but the adrenaline comes from somewhere, and the heavy blow of nearly all of the guy's weight hits me in the chest instead of Logan in the back.
---
Logan's not sure which he was expecting the least, Neil moving him out of the way to take a hit, or the guy from the bar half on top of the other boy. What the fuck a bounty hunter is doing on their heels already is beyond Logan. He'd figured the only ones they'd have to watch for were Lazuli and his men. You know, blue and harder to miss in a crowd. They must have tapped this guy the moment they were gone.
"Get off him," Logan shouts, not caring that he's unarmed as he kicks the man hard in his side once and then again. Anything to get him off Neil. Neil who has the damn gun but decided to take the hit anyway. Logan's pretty sure if they get away this time he's going to slap the other boy for that.
---
"Fuck," Joe grinds out when he's kicked, but this is shit he's trained for, shit he's been doing for a long damn time and he reaches out with one hand, grabbing the other guy's leg, twisting his ankle hard. Hard enough to cause some damage, although he's got orders to get them both back without too many marks. Hard enough just to get the kicking to stop and he's reaching for his gun at the same time, trying to pin the fucker he's hit to the wall. Times like this he wishes he had six arms like the creeps that took over Europa back before anyone really knew what the hell was going on.
And finally he has the gun on, his arm still holding onto the fucker that was kicking him, the gun pointed at the head of the one he hit. This isn't gonna work for long and he knows it. "You need to shut the fuck up," he says and he doesn't specify who he means.
---
The air gets knocked outta my lungs, back hitting gravel and something wrenching painfully in my side. Before I can even move, I hear Logan shouting, and I buck against the guy, trying to throw him off me 'fore I'm pressed against the wall and feel the cold press of a gun against my temple.
"Saw you earlier. I'm surprised. I didn't figure you were working for those fucking bottom-feeders," I wheeze out defiantly, eyes darting over to Logan, looking him over to check that he's alright and flashing him an apologetic look. I fucked up. I fucked up, bad. I'm really fucking sorry.
---
The twist of his ankle is enough to send him to the ground, though Logan is pretty sure he was going to crash soon anyway, the buzz of the drugs already wearing off. The moment he sees the gun against Neil's head, he shuts up, taking a moment to think before saying anything else.
"Let him go, and I'll come with you," he offers, ignoring Neil's looks. "They don't want him anyway, Lazuli just wants me. Let him go, let him head home, and I'll come without a fight. Easy money for you right?" he asks, swallowing hard and wishing he'd had a weapon himself.
---
"Didn't I just say to shut the fuck up?" Joe asks, then presses his gun harder against the first one's temple. He's armed, Joe can tell, but he's not willing to let the unarmed one go just yet. There's something about him, he looks like a cornered animal, looks like he'd be willing to do just about anything. Including giving himself up for his rescuer or his boyfriend or whatever the fuck they are.
"Get up," he says, sliding his feet slowly under his body. "Both of you, get up."
---
I get to my feet slowly, hand twitching at my hip where my gun's stashed, but I know I'd be dead even 'fore I got the damn thing out. I want to yell and fucking scream at Logan, the bastard. I wanna smack some fucking sense into him. I risked my fucking neck for him, and he thinks I'm just gonna give up on him now. That I'm gonna walk away and let this asshole take him back to that place? He's lost his fucking mind.
But I don't say anything, watching him outta the corner of my eye but keeping my gaze on the asshole with the gun and try and figure a way outta this mess.
---
It takes Logan longer to get up, body sore all over again as if his bones just couldn't take the fall. His ankle is stinging too, and he's a little shaky once he's upright. One leg obviously not as strong as the other.
Neil's glaring, but Logan doesn't care. This is his mess. He got taken and he got hurt... and it's his mess. Neil's suffered enough already for his sake. "I'm serious, Man. Let him go," Logan says quietly. "We can pay you even. Give us a moment to talk, and we'll pay you."
---
"Gun," Joe orders, willing to let the noisy one go for a moment. He doesn't seem like he'll be much use in the shape he's in and Joe knows that the one he's got pinned is armed and he wants that fucking gun. There's no way in hell he's willing to get himself killed for this and he's not leaving either of them armed. They can kick and punch as much as they want, he needs the gun.
"And you," he says, addressing the one who talks too damn much without looking away from his friend. "You need to shut up. You're pretty fucking arrogant to think that your head is the only one they're after." It's an embarrassment, after all, when two guys like them get away.
---
Wordlessly, I reach into my pocket and drop the gun, kicking it so it goes skidding down the alleyway.
I speak up finally, but what comes outta my mouth is no fucking good anyway. I never was one to choose my words real careful. "Lot of fucking trouble for what he wants us for. You willing to risk your neck just 'cause some low-level piece of shit Aoian royalty wants to build up a fucking harem?"
It might've been smarter to keep my fucking mouth shut.
---
The guy's hands and eyes aren't on him anymore, and Logan can only hope that Neil'll keep him distracted as he heads for the gun the other boy just kicked away.
He hadn't actually considered the fact that they'd want Neil too now, and all this shit about royalty? Logan has no fucking idea if that's true or if Neil is just pulling shit out of his ass to keep the conversation going. It wasn't something he ever asked about or thought about.
The gun is just in reach, and Logan can only pray his leg won't give out as he leans down to grab it, taking a deep but quiet breath as his fingers curl around the metal, still warm from being so close to Neil's body.
---
"Don't be stupid," Joe says, seeing him move out of the corner of his eye and although he sure as hell doesn't look like he can move fast, all it takes is a simple shift and he's got the other one around the neck, pulled up against his body just in case the stupid one with the gun decides to shoot. His own gun is still pressed to the skinny one's temple and he looks at the loud fucker from over his shoulder. "You're worth more together, but you're still worth a hell of a lot on your own and if you think I've got problems shooting this fucker in the head and then taking your ass in, you're a lot stupider than you look."
He doesn't care why Lazuli wants them, if it's to kill them or fuck them or make them his successors, he doesn't give a shit. He wants the money. It's easy work if you're good at it and after years of practice, Joe's good at it.
---
Teeth grinding almost audibly in my mouth, I squeeze my eyes shut, going tense in the guys arms and wishing I could see Logan, just so I could give him a look to show him how fucking stupid I think he is right now. Does he honestly think this guy is that much of a sucker? This is his fucking job, for fuck's sake. There's no way a bastard like Lazuli'd hire someone unless they knew their shit.
And yeah, all that chatter was meant as a distraction, but I figured Logan'd have a better plan than just waltzing over and trying to pick the fucking gun up off the ground.
"If we're a matched set, you might wanna try not to bang up the fucking merchandise," I gasp out, struggling briefly against the arm locked around my throat, digging in hard enough to bruise.
---
Logan lets go of the gun at that, eyes still locked on it as if he was trying to think of a better plan. Eventually he moves to get a better look at Neil, wishing he could read the other boy's mind. They could get out of anything together... but like this? Like this Logan knew they were pretty useless.
"Just... don't hurt him," he said quietly, for a lack of anything else to say. He felt tired and limp, and he knew he didn't have anymore fight in him right then. Not unless...
"He's got a med kit in his pocket. I need to take something in there or you'll be dragging my dead body back to Lazuli's. I don't think he's gonna pay for my limp and rotting form. You let me take what I need and get that gun out of his face... and we won't give you anymore shit."
---
"Bullshit," Joe replies simply, tightening his grip briefly when the skinny one starts to struggle. "You can take whatever the fuck it is you need to take when I've got you somewhere safe." Somewhere the two of them could be bound and fucking gagged so that he wouldn't have to worry about them bolting or talking his fucking ear off. The ones who insist on talking are always the worst.
"C'mon," he says, nodding his head in the direction they need to go and he doesn't take his eyes off the loud one near the gun, he doesn't loosen his grip from around the other's neck. He's not intending on hurting anyone unless they start trying to fight back, but there's no reason to say that. The threat is always nice to have hanging over their heads.
---
"You think you can let go of my fucking neck?" I wheeze, going limp in his arms but still glaring at nothing in particular. "Where the fuck am I gonna run to, man? Just... lemme help him. He's not gonna make it a fucking foot like that on his own."
I'm trying real hard not to panic. Not to worry 'bout how we'll get outta wherever he's planning on taking us. We'll figure it out when we get there. For now, I just gotta worry 'bout keeping us both in one piece.
---
Logan limps as he starts to walk in the direction the man nodded, glaring at the ground as he tries to think. There's no out for them, not right this moment, not without risking letting Neil get hurt. And that... that's something Logan won't ever risk.
"Where are we going?" he asks.
---
"Not far," Joe answers simply and he ignores the request to lighten up on his grip. It's not tight enough to cut off his air supply and if he's bruised, well, he'll heal. Marks aren't a big concern for him at the moment, he just wants to make sure that the two of them are both alive. But he'd have settled for just the loud one if it had come down to that.
"You'll make it," he says. He'll have to, unless he wants his friend's head blown off.
---
I watch Logan's back as he walks up ahead. His ankles fucked up, I can tell from how he's stepping, and I wince each time his foot hits the gravel. Sympathy pains, whatever. I'm not so sure he will make it, and if he doesn't, we're fucked.
There's nothing left to do but walk, and I quit struggling, saving my energy for when there's a chance we might actually be able to get away.
---
Logan's not so sure he will make it, and he stumbles once or twice a long the way, sure that he's not getting back up each time. Everything hurts now, and the only thing keeping him going is Neil. He has to be okay so Neil can be okay.
Nothing else matters.
---
"Left," he says as they get further and further away from the bar. There are safe houses around, he knows this, but there are also places he can go to hole up with his catches until he needs to take them back. The house up ahead is less a house and more a small sort of warehouse, but there are only two rooms. That's all they need. Joe's bike is parked around the back, out of view for anyone walking by.
When they reach the front, he pushes the skinny one against the wall, turning his head so he can't see the code that he punches into the door. There's no way out except the front, so he feels secure enough to finally take the gun away, then shoves the skinny one inside. "C'mon, inside," he orders the other one. "Give him whatever the fuck it is he needs." And the door slides shut behind him as he steps inside, watching them both.
---
I reach slowly into my coat pocket, pulling out the pouch with a few syringes inside. There's a dose of what amounts to synthetic adrenaline, marked only with a color and symbol code, and I slip it out of the pouch, letting the rest drop back into my pocket, but not before noticing the steroids vial is already empty. Stupid fuck.
I step forward, boots scrapping on the floor, and reach out for Logan's arm. Fingers brush soft skin and my eyes dart to the other guy as the needle pricks Logan's vein. I got other stuff we could use, stuff that'd knock the guy out for hours, but that'd mean I'd have to get close enough to the fucker to dose him. At this point, that just ain't happening.
---
Logan can feel the adrenaline rush through him, and he staggers forward a little, using Neil to keep him upright as he adjusts to the burst of energy.
Really he knows he probably needs a painkiller too, but he'll live. Being able too keep himself upright is good enough for now. Turning his attention back to their captor, Logan takes a moment to look him over, wondering if he could take him if he put the gun down. He thinks he could, but that could just be the shot talking.
"What now?" he asks, not caring if he's talking too much again. Logan could talk all fucking day, and he really is starting to question some of the guy's threats. "How long before you take us back? Or are they coming here for us?"
---
"Tomorrow morning," Joe answers. He's not big on talking to the people he goes after, especially not these ones and especially not now that they're basically his and the money is as good as in his pocket. He'll answer the questions he feels like answering and anything else they want to know, they can find out for their fucking selves when he takes them back to Lazuli. Maybe he'd give them more answers than Joe was willing to.
"Sit," he tells them, gesturing at the corner of the room. The other room has a sink and that's about it, nothing they can use for a weapon. He cleans the place out regularly, checks it before he uses it every single time.
---
I walk Logan over to the corner and help him sit, 'cause even with the dose, he's still shaky as hell on his feet. There's a reason I didn't give him pain meds. The only shit I've got'd make him groggy. I need him awake right now.
The ground's hard, my bruised ribs protesting as I lower myself down to sit, shoulder pressed tight against Logan and my eyes on the other guy.
"You got anything to eat? He wants us alive, right? We're gonna need some food." I'm not really exaggerating. I haven't eaten in days. Might not die, but I doubt I'll be worth much in this condition. Neither of us will be. Guy like Lazuli wants his merchandise taken care of.
---
Logan nods, suddenly feeling starved. "I'm starving," he admits, leaning against Neil a little and not looking at the man.
"We passed a place, I saw the back of a butchers... bet they sell some cooked food. Or there are always carts hanging around," he suggests. "That would be cheaper. Just something to keep us going. Water too if you can get some clean."
---
"You want a fucking barbeque?" he asks dryly, an eyebrow arched, but he knows they're right. He has to feed them and there's no way in hell they'll be getting out, not unless they can find some way to slide down the drain in the sink. It's something he wouldn't put past them, but they're human, they're not some fucked up alien species he has to be extra careful with.
"There's nothing in here, so don't bother trying to get out," he says before he goes to the door with his gun, slipping out and waiting to make sure the door closes behind him.
---
As soon as he's gone, I'm on my feet again, hands sliding around the doorframe and looking for a weakness. All along the walls. Everything's solid.
"Fuck!" I hiss, kicking the door hard with my boot. Hard enough that I swear I feel my teeth rattle in my fucking head.
And that's when I start to pace. It's not like that actually helps me think, but it's worth a shot.
---
Logan doesn't move at first, he just sits in the corner, staring at the wall. "What's in the other room?" he asks, not waiting for an answer before he's back on his feet and limping over to have a look. "We could try and flood the place, see if we short circuit something," he suggested. "Clog up the sink with my shirt and just let the water run. Worst case scenario, we don't open the door but he has to move us someplace less secure to get us out of the water, and away from any attention we might catch pulling a stunt like that."
---
"No, worse case scenario, he gets pissed off and one of us gets shot," I say, walking over and flipping on the sink, "Water coming out this slow, it'd take hours to flood enough to fuck with the door circuits... I dunno. Guess it's worth a shot."
I slip my arm around his waist. I'll say its to help hold him up, but both of us know that's a fucking lie. "Jesus, Logan. I fucked up. We shouldn't be here. You shouldn't be here."
---
Logan just shakes his head and leans in to press a kiss to Neil's lips. "You didn't do this. This isn't your fault," he says simply, pulling away just enough to tug off his shirt and use it cover the drain, before turning the tap back on.
---
Taking hold of his arm, I steer him back out of the bathroom, leaning against the wall and sliding back down to the floor. My legs feel wobbly all the sudden, and I just need to rest, just for a minute. Just until we can figure out how to get the fuck outta this fucking place.
"Just sit with me. Nothing we can do now." I move enough to shed my coat. Rub my hands over my face. Take a deep breath. Wait. Nothing else we can do.
---
Logan follows, wrapping his arms around the smaller boy and keeping him close.
"You should have run. You should have run when you saw him coming. Or... fuck you should have just left me. You shouldn't be here, Neil."
---
"I fucking came here for you, you asshole. You think I was gonna leave you now, after all this?" My face twists up in a frown. He's got to be crazy if he actually believes that shit. "I belong wherever you are, and you fucking know it. I'm not gonna let them take you back to him, and I'm not gonna fucking run."
---
Not wanting to argue, Logan just nods, watching as a small amount of water starts to trickle into sight. "That water pressure was really low. You think maybe someone was fucking with the taps? Trying to cut off the water? There's a valve under it... maybe it's not open all the way. I'm gonna go look," he decides, getting to his feet and heading back into the other room.
---
Food and water in the bag at his hip, Joe punches the code back into the door when he arrives, then shifted the gun, making sure to sweep the room first before he enters. From where he's standing he can only see the skinny one and he arches an eyebrow, entering the house carefully. The loud one isn't standing on either side of the door, preparing to jump him, so he relaxes a bit.
"Food," he says, but as the door slides closed behind him he sees the water trickling out of the other room and he curses under his breath, swinging his gun back to point at the skinny one. "Get your ass in there and stop him."
---
"Alright," I hiss, getting to my feet carefully and inching into the room without completely turning my back on the guy. "Logan, dinner's here." My voice is dry, throwing another sneer at the man behind the gun and reaching out to rest a hand on Logan's shoulder. "You can quit pointin' the fucking gun at me. I mean, what the fuck am I gonna do?"
---
"Yeah," Logan says, turning off the water and pulling out his shirt as he watches the water drain, nodding for Neil to go ahead. "He's not an asshole like me," he points out, walking back into the other room and pelting the wet shirt at the guy just to be an ass. "You're picking on the wrong guy. He's the nice one."
Inviting himself to the food, Logan starts to pick through the bags, not caring if the guy with the gun is pissed or not.
---
There's a moment where he just debates letting it go, but if he lets shit go, they're gonna start taking advantage. It's happened before, only once, but it's never happening again and so Joe grabs the bag out of his hands, tossing it aside and shoving the butt of his gun against the hollow in his throat. Not hard enough to crush his windpipe, but hard enough that it doesn't feel good.
"Try it again," he says. "I don't care about the money that much."
Then he pulls back and moves away from them, resting against the wall with his own water.
---
I step forward. For one awful moment I can see blood splatter on the wall behind us. A death rattle. But there's no silent shot. No singe of laser burn. I curl my hand around Logan's arm and pull him back, leaning down to pick up the fallen bag of food and steering the both of us over to the far wall.
"Stop it," I say, quiet and right into the shell of Logan's ear. Don't get your self killed now, you asshole.
---
Logan just glares, ignoring Neil's words and pushing the food aside. He's quiet for a long moment, brow knit in thought, and eventually he does something that not even he is expecting. ...He grabs Neil and kisses him again. Really kisses him this time, parting the other boy's lips with his own and kissing him deeply. After all, this could be the last day they spend together, he's not going to let it go to waste because of that asshole and his gun.
---
Lifting the bottle of water to his mouth, Joe raises an eyebrow, but he doesn't say anything else. The skinny one looks a little confused -- and Christ, he's gonna have to look at the papers again so he can stop calling them the skinny one and the loud one -- but he's not pulling away. Taking a sip of water, he sets it down, leaving his gun lying across his lap and reaching into the bag at his side, tugging out the information on the two of them. Pictures, names, descriptions. No last names, though. Just Logan and Neil, but he doesn't know which one is which until he turns the first picture over to see the name 'Logan' printed in bold letters on the back.
---
Okay. The kiss is a surprise. It's not part of our master plan to get ourselves killed. I wasn't in on it, and somehow I doubt Logan put much thought into it either. But it's been a month. Longer since I've been able to kiss him like this. It's hard to think of a reason not to. He's warm and he tastes just like I remember. The bare skin under my hands feels the same. I think maybe we should've gotten this part over with when we were alone. It's painful and desperate. It tastes like a last kiss. I'd sorta like to be alone for that sorta thing.
---
"I love you," Logan says quietly, too quiet for the other man to hear. "Always will... doesn't matter what happens."
Reaching out he strokes his fingers through the other boys hair and leans in to rest his forehead against Neil's for a long moment. "I was at the casino, night they took me. Someone... this girl, she kept asking me stuff... buying me drinks, wanted to know if I had any family. She must have slipped something in my drink, 'cause next thing I knew... I'm sorry. I said I wouldn't go back there... I just figured I could win us some cash and get us off planet."
---
Their voices are low and Joe can't hear what they're saying, but he's not particularly interested either, so he settles back and shoves the papers back where they're supposed to be. The food on this fucking shit hole of a moon isn't exactly the best, but it'll do and he digs into his bag for his own food. The gun is still positioned on his lap carefully and he's still watching them out of the corner of his eye.
---
"I know. Found out when I started looking for you." Found out a lot of other things too. How often he'd been going to that place. Times when he told me he was someplace else. 's all stuff we'll have to talk about later but now's really not the time. That's assuming we ever get outta here. I gotta believe we will. "You're never gonna win us enough, 'cause you never know when to stop," I point out, brushing my hand down the side of his face and tucking my legs under me so I can scoot closer, my body turned in toward his.
---
"Yeah... I know," Logan admits, leaning in and kissing Neil again. One hand slid under the other boy's shirt, resting against warm skin as he sighed, wanting more.
"Want you, Neil... Might not have you tomorrow, let me have you today, huh? Right here, right now."
---
When Logan wakes it's not morning yet, not really. It's getting there though and he wonders if Neil brought any food.
They need money, badly, and Logan takes advantage of the small built in U.I.S. in the wall too read up on earth clothes and how much they can be worth. The Jeans alone are worth more than enough to get them home, it's all a matter of finding a buyer. The right amount of time spent in the right shit hole ought to find them a dealer though, it's simply a matter of finding him something else to wear while they deal.
He doesn't wake Neil as he starts to dig through the other boy's things, looking for extra clothes and money. If Neil's brought Logan's real papers as well, he thinks he might have enough in his account to buy some simple clothes. Maybe.
"Wake up," he says quietly, nudging the other boy's shoulder. "We gotta get going."
---
My mind startles away, like a switch being flipped in my brain, and I bolt upright in the bed, eyes wild and my hand already reaching for a weapon. Anything. Yeah, I might be a little on edge. But then I see Logan standing there, and everything comes flooding back.
"Jesus... Fuck. I didn't mean to sleep so long," I mutter, heart hammering in my chest as I reach up and rub my hand over my face. I blink up at him, standing naked in the tiny room, and I ask, "You planning on going out there like that? We won't get too far."
---
"I can't wear the clothes, we need to sell them," Logan replies simply. "You bring anything other than the shit you were wearing?"
---
"Didn't wanna carry much baggage... I ditched a lotta shit at the last place I stayed," I say, reaching over the edge of the bed for my pants and tugging them on. Standing up, there's so little room I feel like I'm standing nearly on top of him, shoulders brushing as I pull on my shirt.
"Wait here, okay? I'll go downstairs. See if they got anything we can use 'til we find something better."
---
"Yeah, alright. I'll start packing," Logan agreed, kneeling down when there was room and moving to gather everything up and pack it away.
He stopped when he reached the medical supplies, popping it open and digging around. It looked like Neil had gotten a bit of everything and Logan checked each needle until he found something he wanted. He'd never been big on drugs, medical or otherwise, but he knew what an anabolic steroid was. There wasn't much, but Logan shot it up anyway, closing his eyes as the needle slipped into his vain.
He put it back when he was finished, wanting to leave as little trace behind as possible, and then packed up the medical kit as well before moving to sit on the bed and wait.
---
There's a clothes bin downstairs in the back office that the woman lets me raid. All shit prior guests have left behind. I grab an armload, nodding in thanks to the woman on the way past, snatching up a couple of protein bars stacked up on the welcome table and make my way back upstairs.
I punch the code on the door, waiting for the panel to slide open before slipping inside. There's one crazy moment I'm afraid he won't be there, so when I find him waiting for me on the bed, I can't help the quick whoosh of a sigh that bursts out my mouth.
The door shuts behind me and I dump the clothes on the bed. "See what you can find in this."
---
It's all shit, ugly shit, and Logan sighs as he settles on a pair of old dark brown leather pants and a white sleeveless work shirt, like the pilots sometimes wear under their jumpsuits. there's a pair of brown leather work boots as well, the sole coming undone on the left foot, and he pulls those on as well, tired of being barefoot.
"Everything's packed. You think you can find us a dealer if we hit the bars?" he asked, glancing over. That had always been more Neil's talent, finding the biggest scumball in the room.
Hell, how else would he have met Logan?
---
"Yeah, I can find someone," I say, holding out on of the food bars to him and shrugging on my coat. "I'm not sure you should be going out there, Logan. They'll be all over you in this place. Those bastards are everywhere."
I take the time to look at him, actually look at him, and my chest aches. Hands itch to touch him. To get him home and make sure he's safe. I never was the one to do that. 's always been the other way around with us, and I know it's tough for him, this role reversal. But this is something I gotta do. I gotta be the one to take care of him for once.
I reach out and rest my hand on his arm and smile at him as much as I can manage, but my eyes feel tight and liquid. Vision hazy-blurred and I don't want to leave this room. Don't want to go back out there, 'cause in here it can just be us and everything seems okay. But out there...
"We should go," I say, clearing my throat and pulling away to slip the med-kit and papers back into my coat pocket.
---
Logan nods, pausing to grab one last thing from the pile of clothes. He tugs the hat on easily and nodded towards the door as he starts to eat and follow Neil.
"I've never been here before. You?" he asked quietly.
---
"This moon? Nope. Logan, you know I haven't been off-world," I remind him, checking the room one last time before I slip out into the hall. "There's a bar, near the center of town, that'll be a good place to start. That is, if I can trust what I've been told. But it's dangerous. Real fucking dangerous, and I need you to lay low, okay? Let me do the talking for once."
---
"Fuck you, I don't always do the talking," Logan insists, sulking just a bit. "You want to play tough guy for a change, be my guest."
---
"And you wanna sulk, be my guest, but you'd still be stuck in that place if I hadn't risked my ass to get you out, so don't try to act like I'm playing a fucking game."
I push through the doors, taking the stairs 'cause I've heard enough times that lifts'll only get you in trouble. They're a good place to get cornered, and I'd rather things go as smooth as possible. The urge to reach out and take his hand is damn near overwhelming, but I squash it down and shove my hands in my pockets instead. No point in drawing any more attention to ourselves.
The bar's within walking distance. Keep your head low, your eyes ahead. Look like you belong there. It's easy enough to make it there unnoticed. If we've got a tail, I don't see 'em, but I never was an expert for that kind of shit anyway.
I yank open the door and hold it open for Logan, daring to meet his eyes for the first time since we left the boarding house.
---
Logan meets Neil's eyes with his own, but doesn't say anything, doesn't even give the boy a nod right away, staying silent until they find a booth. "You got money?" he asks. "We'll stick out like a sore thumb if we're not drinking something. I'd kill someone for a beer right now anyway. You hit my account up for that cash I had saved? Wasn't much, but it'd have been good for spare pocket change."
---
"Logan, I spent every fucking cent I had to get me here. That money in your account, there's still a little left, but we can't get it out now. You know they'll have it marked. They'd be on us 'fore we could get out the damn door."
Sighing, I nod for him to sit down, turning toward the bar and throwing a, "Just wait here," over my shoulder at him.
I find a mark easy enough. Someone I can play quick without drawing too much attention. Getting men to buy me drinks was always pretty fucking easy. It's not all that hard for me to flirt my way into him buying one for the boy sulking at the booth in the corner too.
"Don't ask what the fuck it was I just promised that guy," I mutter, dropping a bottle of beer in front of him, "I'm just hoping he's drunk enough that he passes out 'fore he can come to collect."
---
Logan frowns, but it doesn't stop him from taking the bottle and giving the guy in question a curious look. "Whatever. You see anyone of interest?" he asks, glancing around casually. Back home it's easy, they know people back home. Here it's a matter of guesswork.
There are more than a few shady characters, always are in bars like this though, and it takes Logan a while to single anyone out. There's a guy at the bar who looks like a dealer, but judging buy the gun he's obviously packing under his coat, bounty hunter is probably more like it. That's not unusual for a moon. No better place to hide out if you're running from the law. Good money in bounty hunting too, quick trip to here or there and you'll make the money you spent back threefold if you get your guy.
Another guy, just a bit closer, well he looks more their type. Thin and uneasy. Nervous. Probably not the best dealer in town, but he doesn't look likely to give them shit. "What about that guy?" Logan asks with a nod.
---
"He'll do," I nod, knocking back nearly half my beer and sliding outta the booth again.
I saddle up to the guy, all smiles and confidence and a flash of the merchandise, and it's easy to get him to agree to meet us out back. One last murmur in the guy's ear, "Five minutes," and I'm heading off toward the door, a quick nod to Logan to let him know to follow. Can't do business here, even in a place like this. Too many eyes watching.
---
Finishing his beer, Logan follows without pause, never more than a step behind the other boy, the brim of his hat low to cover his eyes.
The guy looks nervous, and if he's packing he's packing something small. Logan's pretty sure he's a lackey gone solo, but how good the guy is doesn't matter as long as he's got the credits to pay them with. Hell, at this point they'll take any offer they can get, so long as it's enough to get the fuck out of here. This loser's probably about to make himself a great deal.
---
The thing about people who're trying to lie low is that they always fucking look like they're trying to lie low. That's the thing that usually makes his job so fucking easy, but this time it's a little different. This time they seem sort of adept at running and for a moment Joe wonders what they've run from before now. It doesn't matter in the end, but he's gotta admit that he's a little curious.
They've seen him. At least, the tired looking one looks like he has, but that's not a problem. Never is. When they leave, as he's been expecting them to do for awhile, he gets up to follow, gun heavy against his leg. They've picked up some nervous looking dealer and a couple minutes after they leave, he takes off behind them, so Joe follows, hanging back to make sure they don't see him this time around.
---
We send the guy scurrying off down the alley, smirk stretching my face at the rush of a successful deal, and a wad of money weighing down my pocket. I reach out to tug Logan closer, knocking his hat back with my index finger and deciding to risk enough to lean in and steal a quick kiss. We're going home, I think, but I don't get the words out, 'cause that's when I hear the scrape of boots on gravel right behind him.
It's awkward, tugging someone noticeably bigger than me outta the way, but the adrenaline comes from somewhere, and the heavy blow of nearly all of the guy's weight hits me in the chest instead of Logan in the back.
---
Logan's not sure which he was expecting the least, Neil moving him out of the way to take a hit, or the guy from the bar half on top of the other boy. What the fuck a bounty hunter is doing on their heels already is beyond Logan. He'd figured the only ones they'd have to watch for were Lazuli and his men. You know, blue and harder to miss in a crowd. They must have tapped this guy the moment they were gone.
"Get off him," Logan shouts, not caring that he's unarmed as he kicks the man hard in his side once and then again. Anything to get him off Neil. Neil who has the damn gun but decided to take the hit anyway. Logan's pretty sure if they get away this time he's going to slap the other boy for that.
---
"Fuck," Joe grinds out when he's kicked, but this is shit he's trained for, shit he's been doing for a long damn time and he reaches out with one hand, grabbing the other guy's leg, twisting his ankle hard. Hard enough to cause some damage, although he's got orders to get them both back without too many marks. Hard enough just to get the kicking to stop and he's reaching for his gun at the same time, trying to pin the fucker he's hit to the wall. Times like this he wishes he had six arms like the creeps that took over Europa back before anyone really knew what the hell was going on.
And finally he has the gun on, his arm still holding onto the fucker that was kicking him, the gun pointed at the head of the one he hit. This isn't gonna work for long and he knows it. "You need to shut the fuck up," he says and he doesn't specify who he means.
---
The air gets knocked outta my lungs, back hitting gravel and something wrenching painfully in my side. Before I can even move, I hear Logan shouting, and I buck against the guy, trying to throw him off me 'fore I'm pressed against the wall and feel the cold press of a gun against my temple.
"Saw you earlier. I'm surprised. I didn't figure you were working for those fucking bottom-feeders," I wheeze out defiantly, eyes darting over to Logan, looking him over to check that he's alright and flashing him an apologetic look. I fucked up. I fucked up, bad. I'm really fucking sorry.
---
The twist of his ankle is enough to send him to the ground, though Logan is pretty sure he was going to crash soon anyway, the buzz of the drugs already wearing off. The moment he sees the gun against Neil's head, he shuts up, taking a moment to think before saying anything else.
"Let him go, and I'll come with you," he offers, ignoring Neil's looks. "They don't want him anyway, Lazuli just wants me. Let him go, let him head home, and I'll come without a fight. Easy money for you right?" he asks, swallowing hard and wishing he'd had a weapon himself.
---
"Didn't I just say to shut the fuck up?" Joe asks, then presses his gun harder against the first one's temple. He's armed, Joe can tell, but he's not willing to let the unarmed one go just yet. There's something about him, he looks like a cornered animal, looks like he'd be willing to do just about anything. Including giving himself up for his rescuer or his boyfriend or whatever the fuck they are.
"Get up," he says, sliding his feet slowly under his body. "Both of you, get up."
---
I get to my feet slowly, hand twitching at my hip where my gun's stashed, but I know I'd be dead even 'fore I got the damn thing out. I want to yell and fucking scream at Logan, the bastard. I wanna smack some fucking sense into him. I risked my fucking neck for him, and he thinks I'm just gonna give up on him now. That I'm gonna walk away and let this asshole take him back to that place? He's lost his fucking mind.
But I don't say anything, watching him outta the corner of my eye but keeping my gaze on the asshole with the gun and try and figure a way outta this mess.
---
It takes Logan longer to get up, body sore all over again as if his bones just couldn't take the fall. His ankle is stinging too, and he's a little shaky once he's upright. One leg obviously not as strong as the other.
Neil's glaring, but Logan doesn't care. This is his mess. He got taken and he got hurt... and it's his mess. Neil's suffered enough already for his sake. "I'm serious, Man. Let him go," Logan says quietly. "We can pay you even. Give us a moment to talk, and we'll pay you."
---
"Gun," Joe orders, willing to let the noisy one go for a moment. He doesn't seem like he'll be much use in the shape he's in and Joe knows that the one he's got pinned is armed and he wants that fucking gun. There's no way in hell he's willing to get himself killed for this and he's not leaving either of them armed. They can kick and punch as much as they want, he needs the gun.
"And you," he says, addressing the one who talks too damn much without looking away from his friend. "You need to shut up. You're pretty fucking arrogant to think that your head is the only one they're after." It's an embarrassment, after all, when two guys like them get away.
---
Wordlessly, I reach into my pocket and drop the gun, kicking it so it goes skidding down the alleyway.
I speak up finally, but what comes outta my mouth is no fucking good anyway. I never was one to choose my words real careful. "Lot of fucking trouble for what he wants us for. You willing to risk your neck just 'cause some low-level piece of shit Aoian royalty wants to build up a fucking harem?"
It might've been smarter to keep my fucking mouth shut.
---
The guy's hands and eyes aren't on him anymore, and Logan can only hope that Neil'll keep him distracted as he heads for the gun the other boy just kicked away.
He hadn't actually considered the fact that they'd want Neil too now, and all this shit about royalty? Logan has no fucking idea if that's true or if Neil is just pulling shit out of his ass to keep the conversation going. It wasn't something he ever asked about or thought about.
The gun is just in reach, and Logan can only pray his leg won't give out as he leans down to grab it, taking a deep but quiet breath as his fingers curl around the metal, still warm from being so close to Neil's body.
---
"Don't be stupid," Joe says, seeing him move out of the corner of his eye and although he sure as hell doesn't look like he can move fast, all it takes is a simple shift and he's got the other one around the neck, pulled up against his body just in case the stupid one with the gun decides to shoot. His own gun is still pressed to the skinny one's temple and he looks at the loud fucker from over his shoulder. "You're worth more together, but you're still worth a hell of a lot on your own and if you think I've got problems shooting this fucker in the head and then taking your ass in, you're a lot stupider than you look."
He doesn't care why Lazuli wants them, if it's to kill them or fuck them or make them his successors, he doesn't give a shit. He wants the money. It's easy work if you're good at it and after years of practice, Joe's good at it.
---
Teeth grinding almost audibly in my mouth, I squeeze my eyes shut, going tense in the guys arms and wishing I could see Logan, just so I could give him a look to show him how fucking stupid I think he is right now. Does he honestly think this guy is that much of a sucker? This is his fucking job, for fuck's sake. There's no way a bastard like Lazuli'd hire someone unless they knew their shit.
And yeah, all that chatter was meant as a distraction, but I figured Logan'd have a better plan than just waltzing over and trying to pick the fucking gun up off the ground.
"If we're a matched set, you might wanna try not to bang up the fucking merchandise," I gasp out, struggling briefly against the arm locked around my throat, digging in hard enough to bruise.
---
Logan lets go of the gun at that, eyes still locked on it as if he was trying to think of a better plan. Eventually he moves to get a better look at Neil, wishing he could read the other boy's mind. They could get out of anything together... but like this? Like this Logan knew they were pretty useless.
"Just... don't hurt him," he said quietly, for a lack of anything else to say. He felt tired and limp, and he knew he didn't have anymore fight in him right then. Not unless...
"He's got a med kit in his pocket. I need to take something in there or you'll be dragging my dead body back to Lazuli's. I don't think he's gonna pay for my limp and rotting form. You let me take what I need and get that gun out of his face... and we won't give you anymore shit."
---
"Bullshit," Joe replies simply, tightening his grip briefly when the skinny one starts to struggle. "You can take whatever the fuck it is you need to take when I've got you somewhere safe." Somewhere the two of them could be bound and fucking gagged so that he wouldn't have to worry about them bolting or talking his fucking ear off. The ones who insist on talking are always the worst.
"C'mon," he says, nodding his head in the direction they need to go and he doesn't take his eyes off the loud one near the gun, he doesn't loosen his grip from around the other's neck. He's not intending on hurting anyone unless they start trying to fight back, but there's no reason to say that. The threat is always nice to have hanging over their heads.
---
"You think you can let go of my fucking neck?" I wheeze, going limp in his arms but still glaring at nothing in particular. "Where the fuck am I gonna run to, man? Just... lemme help him. He's not gonna make it a fucking foot like that on his own."
I'm trying real hard not to panic. Not to worry 'bout how we'll get outta wherever he's planning on taking us. We'll figure it out when we get there. For now, I just gotta worry 'bout keeping us both in one piece.
---
Logan limps as he starts to walk in the direction the man nodded, glaring at the ground as he tries to think. There's no out for them, not right this moment, not without risking letting Neil get hurt. And that... that's something Logan won't ever risk.
"Where are we going?" he asks.
---
"Not far," Joe answers simply and he ignores the request to lighten up on his grip. It's not tight enough to cut off his air supply and if he's bruised, well, he'll heal. Marks aren't a big concern for him at the moment, he just wants to make sure that the two of them are both alive. But he'd have settled for just the loud one if it had come down to that.
"You'll make it," he says. He'll have to, unless he wants his friend's head blown off.
---
I watch Logan's back as he walks up ahead. His ankles fucked up, I can tell from how he's stepping, and I wince each time his foot hits the gravel. Sympathy pains, whatever. I'm not so sure he will make it, and if he doesn't, we're fucked.
There's nothing left to do but walk, and I quit struggling, saving my energy for when there's a chance we might actually be able to get away.
---
Logan's not so sure he will make it, and he stumbles once or twice a long the way, sure that he's not getting back up each time. Everything hurts now, and the only thing keeping him going is Neil. He has to be okay so Neil can be okay.
Nothing else matters.
---
"Left," he says as they get further and further away from the bar. There are safe houses around, he knows this, but there are also places he can go to hole up with his catches until he needs to take them back. The house up ahead is less a house and more a small sort of warehouse, but there are only two rooms. That's all they need. Joe's bike is parked around the back, out of view for anyone walking by.
When they reach the front, he pushes the skinny one against the wall, turning his head so he can't see the code that he punches into the door. There's no way out except the front, so he feels secure enough to finally take the gun away, then shoves the skinny one inside. "C'mon, inside," he orders the other one. "Give him whatever the fuck it is he needs." And the door slides shut behind him as he steps inside, watching them both.
---
I reach slowly into my coat pocket, pulling out the pouch with a few syringes inside. There's a dose of what amounts to synthetic adrenaline, marked only with a color and symbol code, and I slip it out of the pouch, letting the rest drop back into my pocket, but not before noticing the steroids vial is already empty. Stupid fuck.
I step forward, boots scrapping on the floor, and reach out for Logan's arm. Fingers brush soft skin and my eyes dart to the other guy as the needle pricks Logan's vein. I got other stuff we could use, stuff that'd knock the guy out for hours, but that'd mean I'd have to get close enough to the fucker to dose him. At this point, that just ain't happening.
---
Logan can feel the adrenaline rush through him, and he staggers forward a little, using Neil to keep him upright as he adjusts to the burst of energy.
Really he knows he probably needs a painkiller too, but he'll live. Being able too keep himself upright is good enough for now. Turning his attention back to their captor, Logan takes a moment to look him over, wondering if he could take him if he put the gun down. He thinks he could, but that could just be the shot talking.
"What now?" he asks, not caring if he's talking too much again. Logan could talk all fucking day, and he really is starting to question some of the guy's threats. "How long before you take us back? Or are they coming here for us?"
---
"Tomorrow morning," Joe answers. He's not big on talking to the people he goes after, especially not these ones and especially not now that they're basically his and the money is as good as in his pocket. He'll answer the questions he feels like answering and anything else they want to know, they can find out for their fucking selves when he takes them back to Lazuli. Maybe he'd give them more answers than Joe was willing to.
"Sit," he tells them, gesturing at the corner of the room. The other room has a sink and that's about it, nothing they can use for a weapon. He cleans the place out regularly, checks it before he uses it every single time.
---
I walk Logan over to the corner and help him sit, 'cause even with the dose, he's still shaky as hell on his feet. There's a reason I didn't give him pain meds. The only shit I've got'd make him groggy. I need him awake right now.
The ground's hard, my bruised ribs protesting as I lower myself down to sit, shoulder pressed tight against Logan and my eyes on the other guy.
"You got anything to eat? He wants us alive, right? We're gonna need some food." I'm not really exaggerating. I haven't eaten in days. Might not die, but I doubt I'll be worth much in this condition. Neither of us will be. Guy like Lazuli wants his merchandise taken care of.
---
Logan nods, suddenly feeling starved. "I'm starving," he admits, leaning against Neil a little and not looking at the man.
"We passed a place, I saw the back of a butchers... bet they sell some cooked food. Or there are always carts hanging around," he suggests. "That would be cheaper. Just something to keep us going. Water too if you can get some clean."
---
"You want a fucking barbeque?" he asks dryly, an eyebrow arched, but he knows they're right. He has to feed them and there's no way in hell they'll be getting out, not unless they can find some way to slide down the drain in the sink. It's something he wouldn't put past them, but they're human, they're not some fucked up alien species he has to be extra careful with.
"There's nothing in here, so don't bother trying to get out," he says before he goes to the door with his gun, slipping out and waiting to make sure the door closes behind him.
---
As soon as he's gone, I'm on my feet again, hands sliding around the doorframe and looking for a weakness. All along the walls. Everything's solid.
"Fuck!" I hiss, kicking the door hard with my boot. Hard enough that I swear I feel my teeth rattle in my fucking head.
And that's when I start to pace. It's not like that actually helps me think, but it's worth a shot.
---
Logan doesn't move at first, he just sits in the corner, staring at the wall. "What's in the other room?" he asks, not waiting for an answer before he's back on his feet and limping over to have a look. "We could try and flood the place, see if we short circuit something," he suggested. "Clog up the sink with my shirt and just let the water run. Worst case scenario, we don't open the door but he has to move us someplace less secure to get us out of the water, and away from any attention we might catch pulling a stunt like that."
---
"No, worse case scenario, he gets pissed off and one of us gets shot," I say, walking over and flipping on the sink, "Water coming out this slow, it'd take hours to flood enough to fuck with the door circuits... I dunno. Guess it's worth a shot."
I slip my arm around his waist. I'll say its to help hold him up, but both of us know that's a fucking lie. "Jesus, Logan. I fucked up. We shouldn't be here. You shouldn't be here."
---
Logan just shakes his head and leans in to press a kiss to Neil's lips. "You didn't do this. This isn't your fault," he says simply, pulling away just enough to tug off his shirt and use it cover the drain, before turning the tap back on.
---
Taking hold of his arm, I steer him back out of the bathroom, leaning against the wall and sliding back down to the floor. My legs feel wobbly all the sudden, and I just need to rest, just for a minute. Just until we can figure out how to get the fuck outta this fucking place.
"Just sit with me. Nothing we can do now." I move enough to shed my coat. Rub my hands over my face. Take a deep breath. Wait. Nothing else we can do.
---
Logan follows, wrapping his arms around the smaller boy and keeping him close.
"You should have run. You should have run when you saw him coming. Or... fuck you should have just left me. You shouldn't be here, Neil."
---
"I fucking came here for you, you asshole. You think I was gonna leave you now, after all this?" My face twists up in a frown. He's got to be crazy if he actually believes that shit. "I belong wherever you are, and you fucking know it. I'm not gonna let them take you back to him, and I'm not gonna fucking run."
---
Not wanting to argue, Logan just nods, watching as a small amount of water starts to trickle into sight. "That water pressure was really low. You think maybe someone was fucking with the taps? Trying to cut off the water? There's a valve under it... maybe it's not open all the way. I'm gonna go look," he decides, getting to his feet and heading back into the other room.
---
Food and water in the bag at his hip, Joe punches the code back into the door when he arrives, then shifted the gun, making sure to sweep the room first before he enters. From where he's standing he can only see the skinny one and he arches an eyebrow, entering the house carefully. The loud one isn't standing on either side of the door, preparing to jump him, so he relaxes a bit.
"Food," he says, but as the door slides closed behind him he sees the water trickling out of the other room and he curses under his breath, swinging his gun back to point at the skinny one. "Get your ass in there and stop him."
---
"Alright," I hiss, getting to my feet carefully and inching into the room without completely turning my back on the guy. "Logan, dinner's here." My voice is dry, throwing another sneer at the man behind the gun and reaching out to rest a hand on Logan's shoulder. "You can quit pointin' the fucking gun at me. I mean, what the fuck am I gonna do?"
---
"Yeah," Logan says, turning off the water and pulling out his shirt as he watches the water drain, nodding for Neil to go ahead. "He's not an asshole like me," he points out, walking back into the other room and pelting the wet shirt at the guy just to be an ass. "You're picking on the wrong guy. He's the nice one."
Inviting himself to the food, Logan starts to pick through the bags, not caring if the guy with the gun is pissed or not.
---
There's a moment where he just debates letting it go, but if he lets shit go, they're gonna start taking advantage. It's happened before, only once, but it's never happening again and so Joe grabs the bag out of his hands, tossing it aside and shoving the butt of his gun against the hollow in his throat. Not hard enough to crush his windpipe, but hard enough that it doesn't feel good.
"Try it again," he says. "I don't care about the money that much."
Then he pulls back and moves away from them, resting against the wall with his own water.
---
I step forward. For one awful moment I can see blood splatter on the wall behind us. A death rattle. But there's no silent shot. No singe of laser burn. I curl my hand around Logan's arm and pull him back, leaning down to pick up the fallen bag of food and steering the both of us over to the far wall.
"Stop it," I say, quiet and right into the shell of Logan's ear. Don't get your self killed now, you asshole.
---
Logan just glares, ignoring Neil's words and pushing the food aside. He's quiet for a long moment, brow knit in thought, and eventually he does something that not even he is expecting. ...He grabs Neil and kisses him again. Really kisses him this time, parting the other boy's lips with his own and kissing him deeply. After all, this could be the last day they spend together, he's not going to let it go to waste because of that asshole and his gun.
---
Lifting the bottle of water to his mouth, Joe raises an eyebrow, but he doesn't say anything else. The skinny one looks a little confused -- and Christ, he's gonna have to look at the papers again so he can stop calling them the skinny one and the loud one -- but he's not pulling away. Taking a sip of water, he sets it down, leaving his gun lying across his lap and reaching into the bag at his side, tugging out the information on the two of them. Pictures, names, descriptions. No last names, though. Just Logan and Neil, but he doesn't know which one is which until he turns the first picture over to see the name 'Logan' printed in bold letters on the back.
---
Okay. The kiss is a surprise. It's not part of our master plan to get ourselves killed. I wasn't in on it, and somehow I doubt Logan put much thought into it either. But it's been a month. Longer since I've been able to kiss him like this. It's hard to think of a reason not to. He's warm and he tastes just like I remember. The bare skin under my hands feels the same. I think maybe we should've gotten this part over with when we were alone. It's painful and desperate. It tastes like a last kiss. I'd sorta like to be alone for that sorta thing.
---
"I love you," Logan says quietly, too quiet for the other man to hear. "Always will... doesn't matter what happens."
Reaching out he strokes his fingers through the other boys hair and leans in to rest his forehead against Neil's for a long moment. "I was at the casino, night they took me. Someone... this girl, she kept asking me stuff... buying me drinks, wanted to know if I had any family. She must have slipped something in my drink, 'cause next thing I knew... I'm sorry. I said I wouldn't go back there... I just figured I could win us some cash and get us off planet."
---
Their voices are low and Joe can't hear what they're saying, but he's not particularly interested either, so he settles back and shoves the papers back where they're supposed to be. The food on this fucking shit hole of a moon isn't exactly the best, but it'll do and he digs into his bag for his own food. The gun is still positioned on his lap carefully and he's still watching them out of the corner of his eye.
---
"I know. Found out when I started looking for you." Found out a lot of other things too. How often he'd been going to that place. Times when he told me he was someplace else. 's all stuff we'll have to talk about later but now's really not the time. That's assuming we ever get outta here. I gotta believe we will. "You're never gonna win us enough, 'cause you never know when to stop," I point out, brushing my hand down the side of his face and tucking my legs under me so I can scoot closer, my body turned in toward his.
---
"Yeah... I know," Logan admits, leaning in and kissing Neil again. One hand slid under the other boy's shirt, resting against warm skin as he sighed, wanting more.
"Want you, Neil... Might not have you tomorrow, let me have you today, huh? Right here, right now."
---