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Post by Phobia/Pierce Fobster on Dec 4, 2012 20:08:58 GMT -5
Pierce yelps in embarrassment when he realizes that Xavier is undressing and quickly put the bag down before scooting out of the phone booth. Sure, he’s seen the man naked before, but Pierce is still an incorrigible prude at the best of times.
At least the booth was rather dusty and riddled with grafitti. He can barely see the other man through the mess.
Looking down at himself, Pierce makes high unhappy noise at the muck on his clothes. He didn’t think to bring himself a change of clothes.
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Post by Rampage/Xavier Goodkind on Dec 9, 2012 16:38:33 GMT -5
Xavier's getting dressed speeds up considerably the moment Pierce leaves the booth, lunging out of it as soon as his shirt goes on to grasp possessively at his boyfriend's arm.
After a moment of silence, he asks, "What happened?"
He died. He knows he died. But the the details are... fuzzy.
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Post by Phobia/Pierce Fobster on Dec 12, 2012 13:15:07 GMT -5
“Yip!” Pierce utters and flails as Xavier grabs him, before abruptly stopping doubling over with a ragged gasp. “Stop- sto- ack-” he ends up half grabbing onto his boyfriend for support, blearily staring at the ground as he tries to level out his breathing.
“Could- ‘ve given me the... towel,” Pierce wheezes unhappily. “Now you... have more mud on your new clothes.”
At Xavier’s question, Pierce turns distractedly to him. “You, uh, were shot in the head,” he answers. “That’s why you have a headache. Probably. Also you broke my rib, so we’re not running anywhere unless you want me to pass out.”
“I do wish you’d listened to me and not chased that cop,” Pierce sighs, dazed from the pain. “I’m quite sure I know her partner.”
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Post by Rampage/Xavier Goodkind on Dec 16, 2012 10:46:09 GMT -5
Xavier isn't particularly concerned about mud on his clothes. He's much more concerned about his boyfriend doubling over in pain. The pain is sweet on his senses, as always, and yet coming from Pierce it fills him more with anger than elation. He would like nothing more than to tear the one who hurt what's his limb from limb, except-
"I- I broke..." Even in his weakened state, it's not difficult to support Pierce. The man could probably be blow by a stiff wind, there's so little to him. He certainly has no defense against a sharp blow to the chest- Xavier's head throbs with the fuzzy memory.
"I was angry," Xavier says, trying lamely to shift the blame so he doesn't have to deal with the strange twisting sensation in his chest. "I was fighting. You shouldn't have got so close."
Guilt is not an emotion that Xavier is particularly familiar with.
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Post by Phobia/Pierce Fobster on Dec 17, 2012 0:22:16 GMT -5
“I thought... I thought you’d listen,” Pierce murmurs softly, closing his eyes. “I thought you’d stop if it was me.” But Xavier hadn’t listened to begin with and he’d chased after that cop. Pierce hadn’t anticipated Rampage either and he now has the acute blazes of pain to remind him of that mistake every time he moved wrong.
“I just wanted to keep you safe.” He holds Xavier closer. “You are safe with me. I can clean up after you, make sure all your trails are cold and dead. Rook can help you if I can’t. Neither of us can do anything if you go and chase after a cop and get shot.” He was already going to lose Xavier- why did his lover want to speed that up?
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Post by Rampage/Xavier Goodkind on Dec 20, 2012 14:02:24 GMT -5
"I was trying to protect you," Xavier growls, feeling defensive. His posture isn't aggressive at all, however, just loose and tired, his arms shifting to rest gently on Pierce's sides. "I refuse to lose you! Not like... not like..."
Slag, it's so hard to think. There was someone he lost before, someone important, but no matter how hard he tries, he just can't remember.
"I had to protect you," he insists. Except he didn't do a particularly good job of that. But he's not used to the idea of letting someone else take care of him. He's always been on his own. No-one ever cared about him except for when they hated him. He remembers that much.
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Post by Phobia/Pierce Fobster on Dec 21, 2012 18:27:37 GMT -5
“Keeping people safe did not entail breaking their rib last I checked,” Pierce says, voice a bit frosty as the pain clears into a dull ache. “What were you planning on doing exactly? Chasing down the cop and killing her? There are witnesses in the library, witnesses on the streets, security cameras everywhere- not to mention her partner would know she’d gone missing. You would have ended up seperated from me regardless. I am not the one in trouble here, Xavier. I don’t need ‘protection’.”
He leans his weight off of the other man, eyes narrowing. “You are young and inexperienced, but you have no excuse for stupidity, Xavier. If you truly value what you have, then you will reign in your temper and start thinking.”
“No one else would forgive you a mistake like this,” Pierce sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. Any other Decepticon would have dragged Xavier out back and put another bullet in his head.
He can feel Xavier’s struggle to remember and forces himself not to flinch. Instead he picks up the bag from the booth and gently tugs Xavier towards the scooter. “Come on. Let’s get you somewhere to sleep for the night.”
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Post by Rampage/Xavier Goodkind on Dec 26, 2012 11:20:18 GMT -5
Xavier glares at Pierce at first, angry at the chastising, and resists being led. Then after a moment, he ducks his head in acceptance and follows meekly.
He'll likely never admit it out loud, but Pierce is right. His temper got him killed, and he can't protect Pierce at all from the bottom of the river or in his current state. And... he gets the feeling... that maybe his temper was involved in the loss of that mysterious someone else he can't quite remember.
Xavier doesn't want to lose everyone he cares about, especially not to his own flaws. The dark hole in his mind aches, echoing the more literal pain throbbing in his head.
"What would I do without you?" he mumbles.
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Post by Phobia/Pierce Fobster on Dec 28, 2012 12:55:46 GMT -5
“Kill more people?” Pierce suggests half sarcastically, peering over his shoulder at Xavier with a slightly critical look.
“I can’t imagine your life being that much more dull considering what you get up to,” he continues, settling on the scooter and moving to make room for the younger man. “Will you hold my bag?”
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Post by Rampage/Xavier Goodkind on Dec 29, 2012 17:00:52 GMT -5
Xavier settles behind Pierce, taking the bag before curling his arms around the other man, effectively pinning it between them. He rests his cheek tiredly against Pierce's back, trying to ignore the hunger in his belly that makes him contemplate how his lover's neck might taste.
"Perhaps not duller," he mumbles. "But certainly... dimmer."
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Post by Phobia/Pierce Fobster on Jan 3, 2013 5:10:07 GMT -5
Pierce pauses for a moment in surprise.
“W-well,” he utters. “I- uh- ahem.” He straightens and grabs his helmet off the handlebar, shoving it onto his head before Xavier could see how red his face was. The feel of a hungry gaze on his neck tempers his stuttering somewhat at least.
“If you’re murdering more, I would hope it’d be in sensibly dark places,” Pierce manages gruffly. He checks his phone for the nearest hotels with vacancies and makes a note to go and visit an ATM.
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Post by Rampage/Xavier Goodkind on Jan 7, 2013 18:38:57 GMT -5
Xavier snorts, but says nothing more. That's not what he meant, and he's certain Pierce knows that. For now he's simply going to hold on to his boyfriend as tight as he can without hurting the man's ribs and do his best not to doze off and fall off the scooter.
Timeskip. Posing of Pierce done with permission.
He would really prefer to be home than in a hotel room, but even dead tired he understands why that isn't an option. Freshly showered, Xavier picks ponderously at his fourth cup of instant noodles - it's far from the usual quality of food he consumes, and yet another reminder of how his mistakes have destroyed the comfortable life he had built for himself.
His growing gloominess is tempered by the attention of his lover, Xavier relaxing somewhat at the feeling of a comb being drawn through his wet hair. It helps that his headache has receded somewhat with the judicious application of painkillers.
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Post by Phobia/Pierce Fobster on Jan 10, 2013 2:04:33 GMT -5
Pierce can feel Xavier’s gloominess and he sighs softly, gently untangling a few strands of curly hair. He can’t exactly feel too sorry for the bastard; Xavier had brought this misery upon himself in every sense of the word. It was difficult not to however, damned empathic senses and all.
“We’ll get you better food soon,” he says, watching redhead pick at his noodles with an air of tired amusement. “In the meantime, I suppose we should figure out what to do with you.”
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Post by Rampage/Xavier Goodkind on Jan 12, 2013 14:22:28 GMT -5
Xavier grunts and shoves another forkful of noodles into his mouth. They seemed rather more appetizing when his hunger was still gnawing at him. Still, he dutifully chews and swallows, then turns his head slightly to glance at Pierce out of the corner of his eye.
"You could turn me in," he says, voice low and mood darkly humorous.
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Post by Phobia/Pierce Fobster on Jan 13, 2013 11:18:11 GMT -5
“After all the trouble you’ve caused me trying to keep you out of jail?” Pierce asks, voice laced with a quiet undertone of anger. He pauses in the combing and glares down at the red head. “If I wanted to suffer I’d have left you by the lakeside, Xavier. You have not made things easy for me.”
Drawing in a calming breath, Pierce goes back to combing.
“The best thing for you would be moving out of the city entirely. I am sure they are at least familiar with metas who heal up; staying here is bound to be more trouble,” he says, absently parting Xavier’s hair. He idly realizes he has yet to find the bullet’s exit hole and arches a curious brow at that.
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