Flashes of red, of green, of silvery white dresses and black coats, they were all lost on the man beside him. No pleasant music could calm him, no laughing faces please him, and nothing could keep the annoyed frown from marring his face.
"I don't dance," he hissed before Rob had even time to suggest it, though both of them knew that Rob had expected nothing else.
"I know," the reply came, a friendly smile trying to calm rattled nerves and uncomfortable muscles. Having to be here, conform to their way of partying, it did nothing for either man.
Rob watched idly, standing side by side with his partner yet so far away, as couples flitted past, giggles and loving words ringing in his ears. He didn't mind this, didn't mind occasionally pretending, but what he did mind was the stress it put his partner under. The stress that consumed him, that endless fight to be as normal as he could be. Sabu could never be normal, not about things like this, and Rob knew the man worried about it endlessly.
"Dancing is stupid, anyway."
The older man's tone of voice was strained, lacking the usual hint of amusement, and Rob hated that it had to be like this. Though, as he watched and watched, he realised that their relationship - tricky and complicated - was just like dancing together. If only they could find the beat.
~
Prompt: How it Happened.
He nervously righted his ponytail, feeling grossly out of place. The room they were in was small, and possibly moldy, and as they sat there consuming more and more alcohol, he could almost feel the mood changing. And he wasn't supposed to be there.
Sabu was becoming chattier by the minute, a stark contrast with the usually silent and grouchy bastard he'd come to known, and nothing except the alcohol he had supplied was to blame.
While Sabu seemed intent on drenching things in liquid, Rob watched idly, occasionally taking a sip to keep up appearances. Why he was still there, he did not know, but he wanted to know what happened. If anything would happen at all.
Sighing, he got up and paced the room, frustrated with himself for even daring to think Sabu might feel different now that his brain was addled and his senses off-track. He was taking advantage of the situation, something he'd never do, and he hated that it seemed like the only way.
"Rob?"
He stopped. "Hmm?"
"Stop pacing, you're making my head spin."
A nod, and he sat down again, closer this time. Again he just watched, caught every twitch of his friend's hand, every inch he moved. Rob couldn't sit still. Yet, instead of moving away, he moved closer, imagining hands brushing his skin and fingers curled in his hair. This was all he had.
"You're pretty," Sabu slurred, and Rob smiled. Being called pretty wasn't exactly a compliment to men like them, but he'd take it.
"Oh?"
Slow nodding, Sabu's face scrunching up, and Rob said nothing as the other man nearly toppled over. Allowing Sabu to lean on him, he felt his skin heat up. This was closer than he'd ever gotten. Was this the way it was supposed to be?
"Ahuh," Sabu murmured, his breaths soft puffs of air near Rob's ear. Lips on his neck, almost by accident, and Rob froze. Not daring to move, he tensed up, rooted to his spot on the bed. Soon, clumsy and awkward, lips found his, and he was assaulted by alcohol. Alcohol, more alcohol, and a touch of guilt, that was all Rob could taste.
He'd gotten what he'd wished for, now he just had to survive the next day.
~
Warning: Character Death!
Prompt: Broken Promise.
It hurt. Above all the anger, all the anguish, it was the hurt that still lasted. As he sat there, trying to stay strong in front of his friends - because, oh, they had worried, still did - he couldn't even begin to understand it. He couldn't, definitely not now, but he wished he understood.
"I'm not leaving you yet," came the ghost of a murmur, face pale even against the white sheets.
Fingers touched Sabu's hand, all the affection he'd allow Rob to show, and he could not help but stare at dull eyes, looking worn out.
"I'm not leaving you, Rob," Sabu repeated, louder this time, and Rob tried to believe him. Wanted to see the fire return to those dark eyes. But he knew differently, knew how broken that body was. To everything came an end.
Rob swallowed, hands cringing in his lap. He could feel their eyes on him, compassion radiating, waiting for him to break down. He wouldn't. He'd promised he wouldn't.
"I'm sorry." Harsh wheezing, tears in Rob's eyes.
"It's okay," he whispered, fingers curling around a hand. He'd known it'd end like this, had always dreaded it, yet even with all that knowledge, he'd never found a way to shield himself from it.
"I'll be fine," he murmured, "I promise." A sad smile as machines started beeping, eyes red and his entire body shaking. But he would not break down. Bending over, he kissed lips softly, a sob stuck in his throat. "I promise."
Shaking, shivering, he felt the painful sting of grief at his heart. Watching as they lowered the casket, he held on. Sabu might have broken his promise, he would not do the same.
He'd be fine. Even if he died a painful death every single day.
~
Prompt: Silent Wilderness.
There was a rage to him. There were times when the angry flashing of eyes and the twitching of muscles, ready to strike out when needed, scared even Rob. He didn't know how far Sabu would go, didn't much care to find out, but if there was one thing everyone knew, then it was that Sabu wasn't afraid to go to the limit and beyond.
He said nothing, instead watched his partner as he paced back and forward. Unable to sit still for long, Sabu'd done nothing but walk around - slamming doors, kicking at chairs - and occasionally snap at Rob for making a stupid comment. Yet, at the same time, it was the silence that scared him.
"He'll be fine," Rob commented quietly, attempting not to flinch at the immediate glaring.
"I know that."
Silence, more silence, and Rob sighed. Trying to strike up conversation with his lover was always difficult, especially when it didn't include veiled insults and harsh comments.
"Getting yourself worked up isn't going to help him any."
A crash, another chair broken, and Rob eyed Sabu cautiously. He shouldn't prod, not really, but it was what made them who they were. Different, difficult, but somehow right.
"Mind your own business," Sabu snapped, but Rob could see how tense he was, worried about one of the few people Sabu held in high esteem.
Those eyes, harsh, dark, narrowed on him again, but Rob just stared back. By now they had lost all power over him, safe the looks of lust that could still make him shiver.
"You're a nosy brat," Sabu commented, though he didn't even blink as arms encircled his waist.
"True." Rob smiled, holding on lightly, making sure Sabu didn't feel trapped. Featherlight kisses, soft again Sabu's neck, and an arm tried swatting him away.
Another smile. Rob knew just what to do to distract his lover, and amongst it all, he was happy to be the only one who could tame this man. Even if, he knew, the wilderness never left him.
~
Prompt: All I Could Do
It was unmistakably quiet out. Aside from the faraway sound of cars - distant, not really there - and the soft sound of raindrops hitting the roof, there was nothing to be distracted by.
The car had gotten cold, the engine no longer running, and Rob sat huddled in his jacket. Next to him, staring straight ahead, sat his ever-silent friend. Neither spoke, neither needed to, content to just sit there and relish in the peace they so rarely had.
The forest they'd parked the car in was just coming alive, and it was one of the few bonusses to having to be up so early. Their pitstop, needing to eat breakfast, had finally brought them to a place where neither man became agitated. Sabu didn't have to deal with people, and Rob could just enjoy the calm. It worked.
"So, I guess you had a talk with Vince?"
It wasn't often that Sabu broke the silence to strike up conversation, but Rob was pleasantly surprised. Obviously the man was comfortable, which struck a cord. Rob had never expected to be so touched by so little.
"Yeah. He was mad, of course, but I convinced him to keep you," Rob commented, the heated conversation still at the back of his mind. He'd crossed many a line to convince Vince to not fire his troublesome friend. "For now you're scrapped from the match, but you'll get to do a backstage skit."
An annoyed murmur, the serenity disturbed by the angry gnashing of teeth.
"I'm sorry, it's all I could do," he hurried to say.
Luckily Sabu seemed to calm down again, simply staring ahead. It allowed Rob to think things over. Once again he'd stood up to Vince. So many times, especially lately, that had been for Sabu. And he knew why.
He'd done all he could do, but Rob also knew that he'd do so much more. If only Sabu'd ask him to.
~
Prompt: Wind
It was dangerous out. The whipping of branches and creaking of trees spoke of accidents, of wood falling and crushing bone, of feet slipping on fallen leaves. They'd stayed inside because of it, stuck in their safe haven, sharp eyes watching as the wind tore at the countryside.
It wasn't often that the two spent any time in a place such as this, where everyone knew each other and they were mere strangers passing by. No one would recognize them, not even if they wanted them to, and they were too far from the airport they should have been at.
However, they'd been caught off-guard, chased down by the storm they hadn't seen coming. Much grumbling later, with even their nerves rattled to the point of them fleeing the car, they had found a hotel that looked sturdy enough to shelter them for the night.
"Now what do we do?"
Rob shrugged, eyes glued to the mess outside. There were no trees nearby, but the long grass near the building was flying through the air. It reminded him of movies, and stories of hurricanes, causing nervous shudders.
"You're not scared, are you?" came the grumpy question, Sabu pausing next to him, checking to see what Rob was looking at.
"I don't like storms," Rob answered calmly, though inside he was cringing. A huge sigh, derisive, yet amused, and Sabu crossed his arms.
"This is nothing."
Rob sighed. "I still don't like it."
An incomprehensible murmur to his left, but Rob didn't look away. The cracking outside startled him, a piece of wood flying by, and he stepped back in fright. Sabu must have noticed, because there was soft laughter. Trust his partner to be amused at something like this.
"Fuck, don't be silly. Nothing's going to happen," he whispered, and this time Rob turned to him, especially when a hand grabbed at his jacket. "Besides," the man continued, "Look on the bright side..."
Rob shivered as a hand made it under his shirt, caressing soft skin. He attempted to glare, though secretly he was rather touched that Sabu would made such an obvious attempt at distracting him. Usually the man wouldn't want to sound concerned, or seem like he cared, but tonight was different. Somehow.
A mouth next to his ear, wind and fear long forgotten. "With all this noise." Another pause. "No one will hear us."
A content sigh, and for once Rob allowed Sabu to take care of him. It didn't often happen. If only it happened more.
~
Prompt: Sell Your Soul
There was something Rob had realised ages ago. Ever since the first time he'd met his friend, he had felt that uneasy flutter in his stomach. It was the beginnings of idolizing, the beginnings of something he couldn't explain, and he'd known then and there that their friendship could never be simple.
He'd been so young, barely eighteen, when they'd met, that even now he wondered if the infatuation had been born only because he admired Sabu so. Indeed, very little about the man could ever be described as pleasant, from scowling features to biting words, and yet there'd instantly been that attraction. It made no sense to anyone but him.
So many times he'd caught himself staring, caught himself imagining things that he should not be thinking about, and over the years the crush had developed into a mindnumbing want. To be respected by him, to be accepted by him, to be treated as someone special.
And even now, as he watched with envy as yet another young kid looked up at Sabu in adoration, he knew he'd sell his soul to be what Sabu wanted. He'd give everything.