This life we’re living (Mob AU oneshot)
Okay so I got inspired again and ended up writing about Mob AU Reggie, Radian and Laine.. again. This one has 2,167 words, which I guess makes this a bit longer than my other writings I’ve posted here? Anyway, this one is back in the good old times when the trio actually lived happily together. I have no idea where this came from, there’s no base in any RPs or anything, it’s all just me and my thoughts. I hope you enjoy and forgive my grammar mistakes, I wrote this at one sitting and decided to post at 10:30pm after a long day.
OH! And this is definitely inspired by this unbelievably amazing picture made by the even more amazing @marmaladejones13~
They always had a movie night before a big gig. The idea behind it was that if they stayed up for long, they would sleep longer and be more awake when they went out to do whatever they were going to get paid for. Did it actually work? Not really. Staying up late and passing out on the couch usually just made the three assassins a bit more cranky than they normally were when they woke up. Yet not even Radian had suggested that they'd drop the habit. After all, waking up later wasn't the only reason the three friends wanted spend together their last calm night before a possibly hectic one. In the hitman business you never knew which gig would be your last.
Of course, Laine and Reggie had turned the night into a competition. The two used every possibility to challenge each other, to try to prove their ultimate superiority: which one of them would be able to run faster, shoot more accurately, lift more weight, chuck down more beer before passing out.. Much to their neat freak roommate's displeasure, their challenges often ended up in some kind of mess and the only things the two didn't challenge each other to do were chores. Radian tolerated these competitions, though, since at least some of the punishments for loosing were actually useful: do the dishes, clean the bathroom, vacuum the living room, drive the getaway car.. Come to think of it, the competitions between the hitman and the hitwoman were the most effective way to make the two do the things they didn't want to do.
The three were often too lazy to rent a movie, so their movie night usually consisted of either one of the movies they already owned or a watchable movie airing from the late night TV, if they were desperate for some change. After the movie ended started the channel surfing that usually stilled on some police series or a crime documentary. It was surprisingly fun to question the logic behind some fictional criminal's actions and talk about what a real criminal caught by the law should've done differently. The more tired the three skeletons got, the more they laughed at the inaccurate screenwriting and the foolish mistakes made by unprofessional felons.
Since Radian didn't want to take part in Reggie and Laine's childish competition, he was almost always the first one to pass out. His roommates didn't really mind it: they knew that Radian's inner clock (that was probably more accurate than any Swiss clock ever built) would wake him up at the same time in the morning, no matter how late he stayed awake the previous night. While the tall assassin snoozed away, the two friends continued to talk with low voices, commenting on the show they were watching and talking about whatever came to their mind. This was kind of a sabotage towards their own victory since it is harder for your opponent to fall asleep if you keep talking to them. But again, Reggie and Laine didn't mind it. Even with all their rivalry and never-ending teasing and bad-mouthing, the two were close friends: being able to spend time together and just talk in peace was even better than a victory.
Once again, it was time for another movie night, and once again, it followed the usual pattern: after their movie of choice and a couple of episodes of an old detective show Radian was already leaning against the arm rest in a position that was probably going to make his neck hurt in the morning. His arm was lazily around Reggie, who laid in his boyfriend's lap with Radian's jacket thrown over him as an improvised blanket. On the other side of the couch was Laine, who leaned against the free arm rest and hugged a pillow, her legs intertwined with Reggie's for both physical comfort and an easy access for kicking the other if he started to talk back in a disapproved way. Behind them was the Wall of Fame, a note board full of articles they had found about their work. Of course, their names could not be found from any of the articles: just news about a found body, nameless murderers and unsolvable cases. Eventually, Radian would move the older articles to a scrap book, organized by both date and the assassin in question, making room for new kills and unsolvable mysteries.
The last episode of the night ended and the TV screen turned from slowly rolling credits to a silent white static. Laine blinked a few times to get her eyes adjusted to the sudden change of lighting and then carefully lifted her head to look at the two men laying on the other side of the couch. Radian was clearly asleep: his head was leaning back, his mouth was slightly open and his breathing was deep and calm. However, Reggie with his black shades (that he wouldn't take off even in the dark) was a harder subject to read. Laine swallowed and then whispered silently: ”Reggie?” Nothing happened for a second or two, but then the hitman in question moved his head lazily from his lover's chest. ”What?”
”Nothing, I just checked if you are still awake.”
”You know, I think I was almost asleep, but you dragged me back with that whisper.”
”Goddamnit.”
Reggie chuckled at Laine's silent curse and then froze as Radian's breathing stopped. Both of the skeletons still awake stayed silent and listened carefully, not relaxing until the tall man's breathing continued, as deep and calm as before. All of the three had been trained to wake up to the smallest of changes in their environment, that being even as insignificant as a silent sound or an unexplainable breeze. However, Radian seemed to have got a bit numb to this, at least when it came to their movie nights. The most believable explanation the two other skeletons had come up with was that Radian felt safe with his boyfriend in his arms and familiar, calm sounds around him. Really showed how much he trusted those two, his closest equivalent for a family.
Both Laine and Reggie returned to their original positions and for a moment the only sounds they could hear were Radian's breathing, the TV's static and the sound of late night traffic somewhere below their small apartment. They couldn't hear any gunshots or emergency vehicles rushing for some poor soul's rescue or demise. It seemed to be a quiet night. Then again, when the best ones were working you didn't know it until the morning sun revealed the damage.
Suddenly, Laine broke the silence again.
”Do you ever think what you'd be doing with your life if you didn't have to do this?”
It was a forbidden question. 'What would be if things were different?' It was a question that made you think, gave you new thoughts, new hopes, new dreams. Made you wish for things that could not be. It was distracting, and in a world they were living, distraction could mean a failure or – worst case scenario – death. There was no way to leave this life: no matter what they did, they would always have someone after them, reminding them of what they had done and trying to get their head for it. It was stupid to even think about anything else. It was dangerous to think about anything else, and it was unfair to try and make someone else to think about anything else.
Reggie didn't answer, and after a moment of silence Laine spoke again: ”I think I would be an artist.”
”An artist?”
”Yea. Maybe a painter. You know, I'd just.. collect inspiration and take a paintbrush and paint all day and become rich with my artwork.”
Reggie snickered at that statement and received an annoyed look from Laine. ”Oh shut up. There's some big money flowing in the art business, you know.”
”Yea, I know.” Reggie replied and smiled. ”But only if you are a famous artist.”
”No-one's born famous, Reg. What, you saying that I couldn't become famous?”
”Well..~”
Laine gasped and gave Reggie a sharp kick to his thigh. ”You're such an asshole!”
Reggie laughed at Laine's offended outburst, but couldn't help but grimace at the pain in his leg. Laine could definitely power up her kicks if she so wanted.
The two skeletons fell silent again as the third of their party moved a bit, but instead of waking up he just wrapped his arm tighter around Reggie. Laine leaned back down, and the room was silent for a moment.
”Or a singer. I think I could be a good singer.” Laine said and closed her eyes. ”Maybe I could be the lead of a famous band. Just.. My name on the paper, advertising a concert that's already sold out. Half of the city's there, all the big guys in the front.” Laine moved her leg and rubbed it against Reggie's to keep the man awake. ”And we play and sing for hours and between every song the whole crowd applauds and cheers. And after the finale they all stand up, people are clapping and cheering, the sound is deafening. And on the front seat there's the chief of police who – instead of trying to catch my ass all the time – throws me a bouquet of flowers while wiping away tears. And.. and afterwards I go to my big, expensive apartment, where my beautiful girlfriend is waiting for me and has already got out the champagne-”
Reggie cut in before Laine could continue and added with a playful tone:”And soon you'll have your own house at the suburbs, a dog, a cat, two and a half kids..”
”Hey, I'll take the dog and the cat, but keep babybones out of my fantasy!”
Both skeletons snickered silently at the last part, and after a few seconds of silence Reggie commented: ”But hey, if that happened you wouldn't be living with two of the most handsome skeletons in this city~”
”Pfff! More like the two biggest pains in my back.” Laine replied and smiled her usual bitchy smile. ”One nags to me about leaving a spoon in the sink and the other leaves his dirty clothes on the kitchen table. I swear to God, if I had enough money to live on my own I would be out of here so fast..”
Another silent laughing fit that slowly died out. The breathing of the sleeping skeleton, the white noise from the TV and the silent night life going on in the never-sleeping-but-often-snoozing city formed a solid background noise that in just a few seconds started to lure both Laine and Reggie towards sleep.
”Hey.. Reg?” Laine's voice had turned to a whisper that was just barely audible.
”Still awake.”
”... Do you think.. Do you think I could've pulled it off? That artist thing?”
And there it was. Laine didn't even try to hide the tone in her question. It had that sad curiosity, that careful hope that maybe there could be something different. Maybe they wouldn't have to stay on their toes waiting for someone to find them and get their revenge. Maybe they could walk out their apartment without having to hide a gun under their jacket. Maybe, just maybe, they could just leave, walk out and start their new life without having to worry about anything.. Maybe there could be something else than prison bars or a bullet in their skull waiting in the future.
It was a foolish hope. A childish dream. It was useless – dangerous, even – to think about what could be if they hadn't been born with a gun in their hands.
And yet, after a moment of tense silence, Reggie whispered: ”Yea.”
Laine lifted her head and looked at Reggie, meeting a smile that was a bit softer than usual. ”Yea?”
”Yea. I think you could've been great. A gallery or a stage, I think you could've rocked the world.”
Laine smiled a tired smile, lowered her head back against the arm rest and closed her eyes. There was a lot of pride – with a hint of sadness – in her voice when she muttered: ”Yea.. I could've rocked the world.”
A silence fell in the living room once again, and after a couple of minutes Laine's calm breathing became a part of the background noise. Apparently it was Laine who was going to share the backseat with a couple of dead bodies on their next gig. Reggie should've been happy about his victory, but there was no emotion on his face. The hitman leaned his head back against Radian's chest and stared at the TV screen full of static, with no intention to turn it off. It took at least another half an hour before Reggie, too, fell asleep, with his boyfriend's arm around him and his best friend's legs pressed against his.
Laine never got an answer to her original question.