Pardon me, I just stumbled across this classy little joint, and I'm feeling a little adventurous. I'd like to order a Oneshot On The Rocks, Nico Savoy flavor.
(Gender neutral, fluff. Nico gets into one of his romantic flings with a fellow coworker he's done a few jobs with, but he realizes he likes them too much to let them go.)
I know you have other patrons here, so take your time. I'll be here all night.
Nicodeme Savoy had always been cold.
It had started right from a young age: in the cold stone halls of the convent orphanage; in the stiff wind during the first night he spent on the road with his sister Serafine; in the mud of the marshes they trudged through, only to just get away and be together.
The cold continued through the years, in the cold shoulders people would give him when he asked question—no one wanted to talk to two run away orphans and get in trouble with the cops. It was cold like all the dinners they had to have. It was cold like the glares people would give when they tried to buy something with the little money they tried to scrape together, because they assumed they'd steal anyway. By refusing to let them be honest, they ended up committing more crimes by the age of eighteen than most. It was cold like the slithering bodies of snakes that crawled over them while they slept, like the alligators' thick skin when they found a carcass or came too close to a sleeping one. Everything was cold: the nights, the days, and eventually Nico himself.
Like a reptile, he had cold blood. Empathy was relatively unknown to him. The few jobs he did were those no one would have accepted in a million years—murders, thefts, even hijackings. He did them all with no problems and no moral qualms either. That coldness stayed throughout his life and leaked into things more personal.
He had never been truly lucky in love, or at least lucky enough to keep the ones he had. His conquest list consisted mainly of one night stands, or three months at the most. When they realized it wouldn't work out, many of them turned to anger. They called him cold hearted, just as his enemies called him cold blooded.
Nico paid attention to none of it. He was fine with what he had always had. He didn't need warmth he had spent all his life in the cold he wasn't about to stop now.
But then one day there was something else. Someone else.
At first it, Y/N was just a simple new hire that the Marigold had bought into its liquor circles. It wouldn't be the first time Nico had gone and done a few jobs with a rookie, however it would be the first time that he would become friends with them. There was something about them that intrigued him. Maybe it was the way they matched his skill, or how they proved they were so much cleverer than him, strategized better, truly showed how much of an asset to the Marigold they were.
It surprised him, so he gave it a shot, and as most of his rare new friendships did, banter turned to flirting. Oftentimes, it was one-sided but this time Y/N responded to his advances. That was indeed a surprise too. He played along and so did they.
It was a strange thing between them, something that tiptoed on the line of friendship. Again, Nico had seen something like it before. He knew where this would end and he was right when one night, drunken from an evening spent at the hotel bar, the two of them went back to his room together.
He thought that would be it. They would both get on with their lives and that night would be forgotten, swept away with all the others.
It was far easier said than done. For the first time in years, Nico felt something in him. He wouldn't call it a fire, it was more a single spark somewhere deep in this chest. He thought it would be some sort of heartburn from a poor diet. He ignored it for the most part, and then while looking for medicine he stumbled across Y/N again.
Before long, the burn became bearable. They were his medicine.
Nico didn't understand it, but he knew what made it better. He asked Y/N out on the proper date. They took him up on it and it went relatively well.
So he asked them on another one, and soon they were asking him.
A week turned into a month, a month into two, two months into three. It was when a six month anniversary passed by in a blink of an eye that Nico truly knew something was off.
He couldn't fathom moving on in any way, and that was strange. He was happy where he was romantically. The job was always the same but somehow it became easier, more fun by his partner's side, and then he couldn't ignore it anymore.
There was the warmth.
The hot, delicious feeling that spread throughout him whenever a kiss landed on his cheek, or when their hands took his, or even when a joke turned into shameless flirting. He felt like he was getting wrapped in a large blanket, something unfamiliar but still addicting and comfortable.
More importantly, it was warm.
Very warm.
So warm, he thought his heart might burst.
He had rarely felt anything like it before, except towards his sister. Still, this was different. This was burning with another passion.
He knew something was off, but somehow, for once, he couldn't bear to try and put it right.
He liked this heat, this residue of mistake as some people might call it. His whole body was searing fire and he was too happy and intrigued to try and put it out.
