PARACETAMOL | wes v southby
Headphones in, Oliver Southby was beginning to forget about nearly dislocating his own shoulder to wriggle free of his partner’s grip. He was already well past not being able to find Sloan before the fight & a good deal further from his hand around Mac’s throat a half hour ago. Instead, the off-duty officer’s shoulder dipped & rose to the beat, lips puckered like an idiot as he danced, walking to the beat as he moved through the crowd. -- “You suck, Southby!” Well fuck that guy, because Southby couldn’t hear them over Abba’s most titular song. Occasionally someone grabbed him by the shoulder or ruffled his hair but he blissfully ignored them all as the first fight came to an end.
He’d wanted a fight that would ring in his ears for days. This wouldn’t be it. He was fighting Wes after all & though he had no qualms against exchanging blows with a close friend, he didn’t expect to walk away with a concussion & that suited him just fine for the time being.
Mouth guard hanging out of a corner of his mouth as he absently chewed on it, Southby stretched his shoulders, cracked his knuckles & looked for signs of unraveling on his taped hands. Not finding an end on either hand, the shift in sound was jarring as the song ended & another began. For a split second he could hear the indistinct yelling of the crowd. The fluorescent lights blared down at him as the edge of the crowd parted to make way for the man to get into the middle of the throng. “Ah shit,” Southby cursed. Having ripped the headphones from his ears, he was giving himself one last pat down when he realized he was still wearing his holster. “Here…” Southby struggled for a number of seconds to get the confounded thing off without removing his floral shirt. Awkwardly pulling his arms out of the leather he looked for a familiar face to hand the gun off too. It wasn’t like him to wear it all, but given the elevated threat of such an event, he’d worn it as a precaution just in case something did happen to go down between Rockwell’s old boys & Sloan’s regulars. Folding it all together, he pushed his personal effects off into trustworthy arms. “Okay,” Southby breathed, bouncing on his toes before stepping forward to touch knuckles with Wes.
The circle of spectators widened around them & somewhere between being a goofball & a jackass, Southby’s blood began to boil, his breath got heavy & he went for Wes’ abdomen without thinking. Licked square in the jaw in retaliation, Southby let his baser instincts take over & pounded his fists into the bartender while the rest of the town just watched. Mind moving ten seconds slower than his limbs, Southby stepped back after catching a particularly gnarly fist to the forehead. First blood drawn on his end, Southby drew away blood from the bone over his eye to stop its trajectory of blinding him. Silent & painless, like a T.V. on mute, Southby moved forward again. You didn’t need to hear at chess club. It was more important to feel & to move. Slugging Wes again, hard. Southby tapped his cheek. “C’mmon baby.” He flashed his mouth guard at the other man in an ugly grin as he tapped his cheek to give him a target. The static in his ears after the hit drowned the background noise out even further. He could feel warmth leaking down around the shell of his right ear & knew he’d end it right there.
“Call it!” Southby hollered in his buddy’s ear. His forearm was hooked around the other’s neck; his dominate hand resting against Wes’ ribs as a warning. “Oh shit.” Southby managed to smile, scrubbing the spit of his words away from Wes’ cheek in the most good-natured thing that had ever happened in that circle. When things were said & done, Southby unfurled his arm around Wes, holding his hand out for them to shake but as the adrenaline ebbed & blood dripped down his chin, Southby took his hand back as fast as he could after they’d shaken. His body ached for another fight so bad he could feel his heartbeat reverberating over every inch of his skin. He needed the blood to rush to his head again, the burst of adrenaline that made him lose himself & forget everything already sorely missed.
