Title: Been smoking for too long
Author: Ryeko-Dono
Resume: Badou always had bad days. Not that Haine was the one to blame. Maybe he`d just been smoking for too long...
N/A: Placebo made me do it.
`Tell me what have I done wrong?
Ain't nothing go right with me
Must be I've been smoking too long.
Nick Drake- Been smoking for too long
...
Badou woke up with vodka in his taste. He was dressed with the same clothes of yesterday in a bed that wasn`t his. The room was Haine`s and he should`ve been really drunk not to remember why he slept there, partially naked and with his gun buried deep in his pants.
He was really glad that the trigger was locked. If that gun had fired Badou`d be really fucked. Or really never-ever-fucked again. Also an option.
Coffee leaded the way to the bathroom. Water was thrown in his face senseless. Just them Badou noticed the hour, shivering.
-Fuck...- He said too loud. - Just fuck!
...
The meeting was suppose to start at 2 P.M. Badou was half an hour late, without a bath and with only half of his mind awake. Haine just looked at him, waiting at the door.
-You`re late. - He looked again, up and down with his red eyes. - And drunk.
Badou had nothing to answer.
-You smell like cigarettes.
Badou stared.
-More than usual.
-It`s the hair. – He answered with a deep breath. - It keeps the smell... hadn`t time to wash it.
Of course the hair was still nice. Very red and very Badou, at least in Haine`s mind. The white-haired bastard was well dressed with his leather jacket, the glasses and the neat smile. He dared to approach Badou and grabbs one of his red strands. Dared to smell it, even with one of the mob guys watching them.
Badou couldn`t believe that. He felt suddenly ashamed that this guy would think they were a couple of fags, or anything like that.
Even that they were.
-Yeah, you`re right. - Haine finally said. - It`s the hair.
He walked into the office.
-Os maybe you`ve been smoking for too long.
...
Badou didn`t hear a word that was spoken to them. All the time he was just wishing Haine was paying attention to all that crap. The redhead patiently awaited his time to leave. At the streets Badou yawned widely.
-Hey... I need a coffee. Wanna go to Buon viaggio and grab some?
-Nah... think I`ll go for a walk.
Haine nodded and left, his hands were lost in his pockets and there were no second thoughts. Wide footsteps away and Badou just asked himself how many days he`d be off that time.
...
Three days have passed and again Badou was sleeping in Haine`s bed. He was very drunk, but could still feel the extra weight, a new perfume of blood infesting the room. Badou turned only to find Haine`s hair. White as always, smelling blood and gun powder.
Badou was too drunk to understand how close that meant they were, he just grabbed one of his strands. The metallic smell of blood... Badou them wished he hadn't say it out loud and turned to the other side of the bed. He`s laying in a very ridiculous position, alcoholically exhausted in a bed that`s not his.
Pretending he doesn`t remember why.
Haine was facing the other side. His breath was still stabilizing and Badou couldn`t pretend he doesn`t care with all the bullet holes. Not when he is sober. The only sure thing to his alcoholic mind was that Haine`s breath always stabilized, just like his body always regenerated.
Maybe that was the reason Badou sometimes sleeps in Haine`s bed. Back to back with that albino fucker, inspiring nicotine and blood.
Or maybe he`d been just smoking for too long.