✖ I don’t need the drugs with you || valentine’s day drabble || @avolavlt
✖ Some nights it was hard not to ignore the past -- the memories seemed to trickle down, pooling in every bone && blood vessel before evaporating, soaking into the skin, making it crawl with imaginary ants. It was a virus that took the worst && injected it back into his conscious like he’d once injected lyrium into his skin, except this wasn’t a high, it was a nightmare. Staring at himself in the mirror all Kaey can feel is disgust, not even capable of meeting his gaze in the reflection. He’d been a pitiful, desperate person, killing for a hit that only dragged him deeper -- he’d thought for the longest time it would take him to his grave, bury him six feet under, but it had never came to pass, even when he wished it would. The years had gone by so slow, it seemed like he was hooked for an eternity, working for a dealer as a personal guard dog to receive the scraps of the man’s trade, just enough to keep him wanting, to keep him leashed.
Sometimes he feels like he’s still that animal, no matter how much self control he had gained since his redemption. He stayed away from the drugs as much as could, working for another dealer, his savior, the only person who’d ever had hope for him: Ambrosius. && he understood Kaey’s reluctance to deal with the thing he’d fought for so long, his fear of returning to that person on the street, scared to live && too hooked to die. He understood everything.
That was something from the past that he could stand remembering: the day Ambrosius had raided Kaey’s employer, his competitor. Kaeyonari had been too ill to fight, stood back && watched through hazy eyes, hoping that he’d find his end in the attack like everyone else. He remembers slipping down the wall, curling up, && then a shadow had fallen over him. Blearily he looked up, saw that sturdy silhouette, something he’d later find comfort in, && he asked, no, begged to be killed. He remembers the sympathetic look on the man’s face, the hand he’d offered to pull him up, && of course the words: you’re no use dead, I will help you if you help me.
&& that had started their relationship -- it had taken almost an entire year to detox, to stop craving the drugs, but Ambrosius had been there, supportive, never giving up on him. Sometimes he wonders what would have happened if he had given up. Then he’d spent his time doing the dirty work of the trade, killing opponents, gathering information, protecting the merchandise. && somewhere in that mess Kaey had found a home in the curve of his employer’s body, where he pressed close at night, offering soft kisses to his collarbone && neck. && those arms had held him close, the same arms that had lifted him from the street, the same arms that had supported him when he’d been too sick to stand on his own. He doesn’t know how it happened, or why it happened, but it did.
Still gazing into the mirror vacantly, fingers running back && forth on the edge of the sink, he doesn’t realize the body approaching, too caught up in his thoughts. Then arms wrap around his waist, && he looks up, catching the man’s gaze in the mirror. He smiles, leaning back, && for a moment that’s enough, the warmth of the other too inviting to escape.
“What were you thinking about?” Comes the whispered inquiry, Ambrosius pressing a kiss to his head. It’s not really a question that has to be answered -- Kaey was a very quiet person, && his boss knew that -- but he still contemplates the answer anyway, even though it is quite clear.
“About us. About how you saved me.” The hitman responds, voice just as quiet. After a moment he turns in the embrace, looking up at the face of the only man who cared, the only man he cared about. He pauses, blinking, thinking for a moment. “Why did you spare me that day?”
The drug dealer seems to think about this a moment, looking down at Kaey, a small look of sadness crossing his features like it had all those years ago. “I knew you were a good man, someone I could trust in time, someone I could count on to do the dirty work.” He says, && the smaller’s heart sinks a bit, thinking that there’d been something else, maybe the reason they stood like this now. Then he continues. “But I also saw strength in you, I knew you could beat the drugs, that you didn’t need them. I saw someone who wanted to die, && I wanted to give you a second chance at a life.” Another pause. “I wanted to give you a reason to live, I guess. I wanted to help you, because I... I had a feeling about you.” Their gazes meet again, gentle smiles exchanged.
“A feeling?” Kaey asks, hands resting against Amborius’s chest lightly, leaning forward into his grip. He feels like he already knows the answer, but he wants to hear it.
“Yes. A feeling that you were something more... something special, unexpected. That you’d prove to be more valuable to me than I thought.” && that makes the killer smile, leaning up on tiptoes to press a kiss to his employer’s lips, eyes closing. They share the contact for a few moments, then Kaey withdraws, that smile still on his face. Every memory is erased, the disgust settling back down, the ants skittering off his flesh -- feeling renewed, he pulls the bigger man out of the bathroom, sharing glances && soft kisses as they moved towards the bedroom.
At the threshold of the room, Kaey’s second home, he’s picked up; he wraps his legs around the dealer’s waist, arms curling around his neck. They share another kiss, && the door closes.
After they lay together under the sheets, Kaey tracing shapes on Ambrosius’s bare chest, propped up on one elbow while the other lays back, eyes half closed. After a moment he sidles over, pressing a kiss to the man’s jaw, their gazes meeting.
“You know, in a few weeks... we’ve been working together for six years.” He murmurs, unwilling to break the calm atmosphere that surrounds them, something they rarely experienced. The dealer smiles, looking away to consider.
“That means you’ll be clean for five years.” He says, looking back, && there’s pride in his gaze, happiness that he had in fact been saved. Kaey looks at him sweetly, caressing his cheek.
“But I haven’t been.” He says, && his employer frowns, confused. Offering a smile, he leans in closer. “I’ve been addicted to you all this time.” He chuckles softly, giving him a kiss.
