Quick fic
Quick fic. Entirely up to you which character is which.
It was disgraceful. He was a hero. Admired and feared throughout the city. People looked up to him. He was the last person in the world who should be hiding in the bathroom. It only made him feel worse.
There was a knock on the door and his partner’s voice, asking him if he was all right. There wasn’t concern in the voice yet, but an audible wariness. This was not normal behavior. The dream hadn’t been normal either. He could still taste the sweat and feel the gloved hands tightening in his hair, still hear the things he had said, had begged for. And if that wasn’t shameful enough, he could still see his partner’s face, still under the mask, looking down on him while he writhed.
“Fine,” he barked back. There had been other dreams before, but nothing this vivid, and usually only after they had patrolled alone for awhile, for whatever reason. Rejoining forces had always been enough to satisfy whatever hunger the dreams had come from and things had gone on like usual after. Why was this one so different?
They had been apart for a week or two, both following different leads. Then, they met again, both bristling with excitement and potential violence with their respective information. They had gone out together, had fought their way through what felt like armies, and they had won. It had cost them blood and pain and the entire night, but they had won. Afterwards, they had collapsed in their chairs and set the ship on autopilot to take them home and neither of them had been awake when it returned to the Nest. And there, in the chair, in arm’s reach of his partner, he had dreamed.
It was disgraceful. He was a hero. Admired and feared throughout the city. People looked up to him. He was the last person in the world who should be hiding in the bathroom. It only made him feel worse.
There was a knock on the door and his partner’s voice, asking him if he was all right. There wasn’t concern in the voice yet, but an audible wariness. This was not normal behavior. The dream hadn’t been normal either. He could still taste the sweat and feel the gloved hands tightening in his hair, still hear the things he had said, had begged for. And if that wasn’t shameful enough, he could still see his partner’s face, still under the mask, looking down on him while he writhed.
“Fine,” he barked back. There had been other dreams before, but nothing this vivid, and usually only after they had patrolled alone for awhile, for whatever reason. Rejoining forces had always been enough to satisfy whatever hunger the dreams had come from and things had gone on like usual after. Why was this one so different?
They had been apart for a week or two, both following different leads. Then, they met again, both bristling with excitement and potential violence with their respective information. They had gone out together, had fought their way through what felt like armies, and they had won. It had cost them blood and pain and the entire night, but they had won. Afterwards, they had collapsed in their chairs and set the ship on autopilot to take them home and neither of them had been awake when it returned to the Nest. And there, in the chair, in arm’s reach of his partner, he had dreamed.