Another D!DOFP Gambit and Pietro drabble for my beloved @cal-caje (they make me ill and so do you)
~~~
"Chère, please stop."
Remy's voice was firm but not unkind.
A plea that fell on deaf ears as Pietro threw back his head and downed another bottle of bourbon to join the scattered mess on the floor.
"You've had too much," Remy said.
"Don't tell me what to fucking do," Pietro drawled, his vision so blurry he couldn't even glare.
A bad night. One of many in the past month. Remy began to worry how frequent these nights were becoming.
"You're scaring me, chère," Remy said nervously. "This isn't like you."
Sneering, Pietro forced himself to stand from the couch and muttered, "Fine- I won't bother you."
"That's not what I meant-"
Pietro tried to move past him.
Remy caught his arm- crossing a boundary he knew he shouldn't, but so scared that he might leave and never come back that he didn't care.
As predicted, Pietro shoved his hand away with a scowl. "Don' touch me," he spat.
"Don't leave, then," Remy begged. "Please- just talk to me."
Wiping at his eyes, Pietro murmured tiredly, "Nothing to talk about."
"You sure? Because you've been all over the place for weeks, chère," Remy said with a hint of frustration. "I got no idea when you're coming over- if you're coming back. You drink yourself away till I barely recognise you anymore."
Pietro huffed. "You've seen me drink before," he defended himself weakly.
"Not like this," Remy refuted, pointing to the bottle still clutched in his hand as he snapped, "Never like this."
"What does it matter?"
Remy's heart clenched.
"You matter! Isn't that enough?!"
Finally- finally, Pietro lifted his gaze. Brown eyes that he adored muted to a dull grey in the low light. Tears he had tried so hard to hide now caught in his lashes.
"Remy…"
All Remy's frustration fled from his system, replaced with worry in one swift motion.
"Yeah, chère?"
Pietro sniffled.
"I'm so tired…"
Remy's heart shattered.
And he didn't say anything. Didn't know what to say. Didn't know how to help.
All Remy could bring himself to do was step closer and gently reach for the bottle in Pietro's hand, pausing when the speedster flinched, before sliding the bourbon out of his grasp. Pietro didn't fight to hold it. Remy took that as a good sign.
Gesturing to the couch, Remy waited patiently as Pietro fell back against the cushions and laid down. It seemed only natural to drag the blanket off the armrest and lay it over Pietro, who was quickly fading into unconsciousness. Exhausted to the bone- maybe even deeper than that.
Remy would be lying if he said he slept well that night. In fact, he spent the whole night sitting in the adjacent armchair, watching the staggered rise and fall of Pietro's chest. Assuring himself the man was alive. That he wouldn't run away without a goodbye, this time. Scared of what might become of him if he continued down this dark spiral.
"Don't leave me now, chère," Remy whispered, somewhere late in the night like a prayer. "My heart just wouldn't take it."
Pietro continued to sleep, smothered in an alcoholic haze, and Remy could do nothing more than let out a tired sigh.
D!DOFP PIETRO AND GAMBIT FEED ME BRO FEED MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
The sound of glass shattering against tile broke Remy out of his slumber.
Within a heartbeat he was rushing out of bed, jacket hastily thrown over his shoulders and cards flicking between his fingers with a current of energy. He expected an intruder. It was only natural for a thief to have many enemies.
But as Remy rushed into the shadowed kitchen, he found something far more distressing.
His friend -and so much more- leaning over the kitchen sink, arms shaking violently, head hung low. It was only then Remy noticed the dark stains on his hands, matching the spots on the floor mixed with broken glass.
"Pietro?" Remy asked, stunned.
Before Remy had even drawn in another breath, the scene before him shifted. The fragments of glass disappeared. The blood splatters on the floor wiped away hastily. Pietro, angled away now, clutched at his hands out of view.
"Sorry..." Pietro said suddenly, but the words felt strangled.
Sliding his cards back into his jacket, Remy approached with an overwhelming sense of concern. "Are you right, chère?"
Shaking his head slightly, Pietro muttered, "Just dropped a glass- I'll replace it."
"The glass is the least of my worries," Remy said as he leant against the bench where Pietro stood, a bloodied rag pressed between his palms. "How your hands?"
"Nothing to be concerned about," Pietro stated coldly.
"Tough luck- 'cause I am," Remy said with a shrug, earning a weak eye roll for the man.
"My powers slipped," Pietro finally answered, moving past Remy to throw the rag in the trash, the cuts on his hands all but healed within mere seconds. "Turns out glass isn't all that fond of superspeed."
Remy had seen Pietro rush around with bottles of vodka in his hands, and never once had they shattered under his touch. Then again, he had never seen Pietro's hands shake like they were now- shuddering so fast and so suddenly they looked almost blurry. No glass in the world would be able to withstand that kind of strain.
Remy dreaded to think what horror could make his Pietro tremble like that...
"I didn't mean to wake you."
It wasn't an apology exactly, but it was the closest Pietro knew how to give.
"I'm glad you did," Remy said easily.
"You can go back to sleep," Pietro replied.
Tilting his head cheekily, Remy crooned, "Only if you're planning to join me, chère."
Pietro shot him a look between exasperated and bemused. "Insufferable Cajun," he scowled, though the speedster made no rush to leave. Wouldn't have even come back to the apartment if there hadn't been some level of fondness for the thief that owned it.
"Only teasing, mon cœur," Remy said. A lie for Pietro's sake or himself- he wasn't entirely sure any more. "You know you're welcome whenever you please."
Rubbing the last line of a wound into his hand -fading into the tapestry of scars he refused to speak of- Pietro nodded gently. A wordless thank you.
"I'll be out of your hair by the morning," Pietro said, as if to reassure him.
Remy couldn't imagine anything worse. "How 'bout you join me for breakfast instead?"
Smirking, Pietro walked out of the small kitchen towards the couch he had unofficially claimed as his own. "We'll see about that," he mused.
Tried a technique I learned last year to digitally colour one of my inked sketches, starring my beloved AroAce Quicksilver design and his dad! You can find the original sketch and the alternate colour option below the cut. Have an awesome day everyone!
Thought I'd kick it off by giving Quicksilver some aroace flare to his suit, which I had a blast designing! Hope you all enjoy, and don't forget to share some love with your aromantic besties this week!!
