Don't touch him!
Defense Meme (x) - Closed
“Not such a strong Glaive now, huh?”
“Stupid Galahdans. Your breed should know where you’re not welcome.”
The threats were more common than Nyx cared to admit. They were threats that turned most of the Galahdan refugees away from the deeper parts of Insomnia, the parts of the city where Insomnians flaunted their wealth and self-absorbed superiority over the immigrant class. Normally, Nyx would turn away from these places too, but it was a special occasion.
Their last mission cost the lives of many of the members of the Glaive, from newer recruits getting their first taste of battle to hardened soldiers that had fought alongside Nyx since the beginning. The loss took a toll on all of them, even though they walked away with a victory.
This night was funded and planned by Regis himself. A night for his soldiers to admire the ‘finer’ parts of Insomnia, and no one could say no. Even the Captain himself was there, sitting at the bar with Luche and listening while the other man drunkenly went on about something or another.
Nyx wanted to be up there with him. It was a rare sight for Titus to be out with the rest of the Glaive, and when he was, Nyx could never tell whether he was genuinely enjoying himself or not. He probably had a better shot of enjoying his night without Nyx hanging off his arm, anyway.
He chose to stay in one of the booths in the back, enjoying the company of Crowe, Libertus, and Pelna. It felt nice knowing they were all here, alive, as Libertus complained about the food brought to them (”Really? This is Insomnia’s finest? A Galahdan child could do better than this!”), Crowe yelled over him to shut up, and Pelna smiled sheepishly around his drink. It felt good to be with his friends, but his eyes kept drifting back to his lover.
He wondered if Titus could hear the sneers from other patrons. If it affected him any. Titus wasn’t Galahdan, but he wasn’t Lucian, either, and Nyx knew how important the Glaives were to Titus. (How many times had Nyx tried to convince him he was part of their family? He’d lost track.)
These encounters rarely got physical. Especially when they were in uniform - Insomians may be racist, but they weren’t stupid. (Most of them.) Sometimes a man with more liquor in him than blood would throw a punch at either Nyx or Libertus, but it was easily to deal with even in their own drunken stupors.
“You’re on the edge, go get us more t’drink,” Libertus slurs, nudging Nyx in the elbow. Nyx snorts and slides out of the booth, debating whether or not to just get Libertus some water by this point.
He keeps a respectable distance from the others at the bar, taking the other end to order his drinks. It’s crowded with all of the Glaives, and the bartender informs Nyx he’ll have to wait a bit. He’s slumped over in his seat when another patron, Insomnian, takes the stool beside Nyx.
He doesn’t say anything, just sits there and drums his fingers against the wood of the bar. Nyx can barely hear it over the ambient noise and chatter, but it’s getting to him. He opens his mouth to speak and is cut off by the Insomnian man.
“You rats shouldn’t be here.”
Ah, right. Nyx huffs, leaning forward on an elbow.
“We just want a drink. Same as you.”
The man huffs, but keeps to himself. Just in time for his drinks to arrive, Nyx grins, grabbing the tray and walking back to the booth.
The rest of the night goes well. It’s loud, full of laughter and smiles. Nyx is sure that the warmth in his chest isn’t entirely from the alcohol as he and Crowe help Libertus get into her vehicle.
From a few cars over, he can hear his Captain’s voice.
“Ulric. You’re with me.”
Nyx can feel his face flush as Crowe gives him a wink, before shooing him away and taking over on the Libertus front. Nyx tries to preen himself in the side mirror before casually walking toward Titus.
He’s about halfway there when a man gets out of his vehicle, grabbing Nyx’s attention and making him pause. It’s the one from earlier, at the bar. Believing it’s the wiser decision to just keep walking, Nyx does, until an arm reaches out and grabs his jacket, not giving Nyx time to react before there’s a first connecting with his jaw.
He stumbles back, reaching for his face with a wince.
“What the-?”
He doesn’t get to finish his sentence before the man’s on him again. Alcohol has numbed Nyx, or at least that was his excuse as to why this man wasn’t down on the ground yet. Instead, Nyx lets out a groan as his head smacks against the hard concrete, the sound of a hollow thunk reverberating the area before Nyx felt any pain. He closed his eyes and put his forearm across them, making a small, defeated noise.
The man didn’t make another move. Nyx would open his eyes and see what the hell he was doing but it seemed like too much to try and move. His head was throbbing, and it was making his stomach twist. Not a good feeling.
“Ulric. Get up.”
“Ulric.”
He knew that voice. He definitely knew it, but he couldn’t place it. It repeated his name a few more times before there were hands on him, gentle, like they could squish him to death with too much force.
He knew these hands too. If he could just open his eyes -
He manages with great effort, moving his arm and pointedly avoiding the streetlight above him that’s far too bright to just be a streetlight.
“Nngh, Captain? What-”
“Ssh.” Titus looks troubled. Nyx feels arms around him and suddenly he’s airbound. It would be more embarrassing, but, he’s not very sure he’s entirely up for moving around anyway.
“You idiot. Can’t have just one night where I don’t have to watch after your ass?”
Nyx smiles, leaning into the comfort of the older man’s chest.
“You love watching my ass.”
He hears a scoff, but he knows Titus is amused by the statement.
“Doesn’t mean I love watching it get hurt.”
“That’s why I have you looking out for me, yeah?”
Titus sets him in the passenger seat of his vehicle, fishing through the glove box for a potion. Nyx drinks it, and sighs as the pounding in his head subsides to a dull ache.
He didn’t have to worry. Titus has been, and always will be, his hero.
