So stand on the edge with me, hold back your fear and see nothing is real til it's gone..
I've decided to ignore the depressing transfer news from Chelsea this morning until it's finalized. I hate when they break up my scoobies!
As a distraction, I've done another Banlieue 13 fic. At least these guys can have some happy.
Title: Le Saut
Characters: Capitaine Damien Tomaso, Leïto
Summary: The risk that might break you is the one that would save. 545 words, rated M.
Disclaimer: Ce n’est pas à moi.
Le Saut
There’s nowhere left to run. Gendarmerie soldiers control every floor below, and the neighboring rooftops are too high to reach from this one. Leïto completes another circuit of the perimeter, careful to stay low behind the parapet, and checks the barricaded door again. Muffled banging drifts through from the other side, but it will hold-for now. He drops to his haunches beside the wall, catching his breath.
‘We don’t have much time.’
Damien looks up with the hem of his shirt between his teeth and one sleeve streaked with blood.
‘I know,’ he says thickly, yanking on the shirt with his good arm to rip it. ‘They’ll send the choppers soon.’
Leïto shuffles closer and pushes Damien’s hand aside. He finishes the tear and starts wrapping the strip around Damien’s arm, frowning at the red stain beneath.
‘It’s not bad, Leïto,’ Damien nudges his knee. ‘I’ve been shot before.’
Leïto's jaw clenches and he doesn’t meet Damien’s gaze. There's another story he'll never hear, a scar he'll never see if they don’t get off this roof. What happened downstairs almost cost him already; he’s not about to let it happen again. He ties off the bandage and finds his voice.
‘Don’t make it a habit. My cookbook didn’t cover first aid.’
Damien smirks at him as they get to their feet. ‘What about miraculous escapes? Was that in there?’
‘No,’ Leïto glares, ‘that was in the fishing manual.’ He glances at the door as the pounding grows more violent, and Damien quirks an eyebrow.
‘It would be better to have a plan, you know.’
Leïto snorts. ‘It would,’ he agrees, but he can’t see any way off the roof that doesn’t involve getting snipered or trapped by swarms of military police. Damien nods toward the parapet.
‘I think I have one.’
Leïto follows him to the edge and looks down, across to the building opposite where Damien is pointing. The smooth face of the highrise offers no handholds even for them, but one floor down from their level is a large window, just close enough if they get their angles right.
Leïto swallows. It’s a long way down if the glass holds. Then again, he knows a few things about breaking into places he shouldn’t be. He also knows when it’s worthwhile to take a risk. As one corner of the door starts to give way, Leïto vaults onto the parapet and turns to Damien.
‘On three?’
‘On three.’ Damien jumps up next to him with a nod. Angry shouts ring out from behind the door, much louder than before. Their eyes lock.
For a brief, infinite moment the sky falls away. They come together hard, urgency making them both rough enough to bruise, but Leïto doesn't care. Damien is holding on like he would crawl into Leïto's skin if not for the clothes between them, locking their mouths so tightly neither one of them can breathe. In that instant Leïto knows only the feel of Damien’s hands at his back, the press of heat between them and the tang of blood in his mouth. Then just as suddenly they part, shaking, fists unclenching from each other's shirts. The blades of a helicopter rise above the edge of the rooftop behind them.
They jump.
As a distraction, I've done another Banlieue 13 fic. At least these guys can have some happy.
Title: Le Saut
Characters: Capitaine Damien Tomaso, Leïto
Summary: The risk that might break you is the one that would save. 545 words, rated M.
Disclaimer: Ce n’est pas à moi.
Le Saut
There’s nowhere left to run. Gendarmerie soldiers control every floor below, and the neighboring rooftops are too high to reach from this one. Leïto completes another circuit of the perimeter, careful to stay low behind the parapet, and checks the barricaded door again. Muffled banging drifts through from the other side, but it will hold-for now. He drops to his haunches beside the wall, catching his breath.
‘We don’t have much time.’
Damien looks up with the hem of his shirt between his teeth and one sleeve streaked with blood.
‘I know,’ he says thickly, yanking on the shirt with his good arm to rip it. ‘They’ll send the choppers soon.’
Leïto shuffles closer and pushes Damien’s hand aside. He finishes the tear and starts wrapping the strip around Damien’s arm, frowning at the red stain beneath.
‘It’s not bad, Leïto,’ Damien nudges his knee. ‘I’ve been shot before.’
Leïto's jaw clenches and he doesn’t meet Damien’s gaze. There's another story he'll never hear, a scar he'll never see if they don’t get off this roof. What happened downstairs almost cost him already; he’s not about to let it happen again. He ties off the bandage and finds his voice.
‘Don’t make it a habit. My cookbook didn’t cover first aid.’
Damien smirks at him as they get to their feet. ‘What about miraculous escapes? Was that in there?’
‘No,’ Leïto glares, ‘that was in the fishing manual.’ He glances at the door as the pounding grows more violent, and Damien quirks an eyebrow.
‘It would be better to have a plan, you know.’
Leïto snorts. ‘It would,’ he agrees, but he can’t see any way off the roof that doesn’t involve getting snipered or trapped by swarms of military police. Damien nods toward the parapet.
‘I think I have one.’
Leïto follows him to the edge and looks down, across to the building opposite where Damien is pointing. The smooth face of the highrise offers no handholds even for them, but one floor down from their level is a large window, just close enough if they get their angles right.
Leïto swallows. It’s a long way down if the glass holds. Then again, he knows a few things about breaking into places he shouldn’t be. He also knows when it’s worthwhile to take a risk. As one corner of the door starts to give way, Leïto vaults onto the parapet and turns to Damien.
‘On three?’
‘On three.’ Damien jumps up next to him with a nod. Angry shouts ring out from behind the door, much louder than before. Their eyes lock.
For a brief, infinite moment the sky falls away. They come together hard, urgency making them both rough enough to bruise, but Leïto doesn't care. Damien is holding on like he would crawl into Leïto's skin if not for the clothes between them, locking their mouths so tightly neither one of them can breathe. In that instant Leïto knows only the feel of Damien’s hands at his back, the press of heat between them and the tang of blood in his mouth. Then just as suddenly they part, shaking, fists unclenching from each other's shirts. The blades of a helicopter rise above the edge of the rooftop behind them.
They jump.