A/N: I saw Kick-Ass yesterday and Aaron Johnson inspired me with his presence... and so I give you this one-shot. :) Please read and review.
There were times when Prosper wondered about Scipio's choice and what it would have been like to ride the merry-go-round with him. He imagined them whooping and cheering and urging the ride to go faster. He could feel the rush of the wind passing them and the force of jumping from the ride before it was too late. He could sense it all in his imagination, but thinking over it did little. The simple truth was that Scipio was now nearly thirty and Prosper was only seventeen even though they'd only been born little more than a year apart.
Still, sitting in Victor's office and watching Scipio work, Prosper could swear he really had ridden that ride. He still felt they were the same in many ways, including age. It was almost too easy to forget. They'd both lost families, though Scipio had never much had one. They'd both found new ones, though Scipio had to give much more to get his. They'd both spent nights in an old cinema, watching the slightest movement of light from nightlights between the rows where the other orphans slept and stars shining through holes in the old ceiling. They'd both hurt and they'd both felt betrayed by the other for one reason or another.
But they'd both always been there for each other in the end. Prosper had accepted Scipio back with no debate over his ethics or his lies. Scipio had taken that opportunity to let Prosper into his secret mission, something he felt the others wouldn't understand or accept. Yet for some reason he believed in Prosper. That was how they were similar. They trusted each other.
Maybe it was their similar backgrounds. Maybe it was their similar ages. Whatever it was, despite all that had happened, Prosper still felt that Scipio hadn't changed at all. Sure, now he worked for real. He worked all day and collapsed with fatigue whenever he had the chance. He lived in an old office Victor had cleaned out to use as a makeshift bedroom two years ago and no one had bothered to complete the transition. He lived as a detective's assistant and spent more time reading books of all sorts than Prosper ever knew he had the attention span to accommodate. Scipio called it necessary and sometimes complained that he couldn't understand it all, but Prosper knew his thief lord was enjoying it.
Scipio had long since given up his 'childish' title, but Prosper still used it when he teased him. It had been two years since Scipio stopped climbing walls and walking rooftops to impress orphans, but Prosper could still find Scipio doing crazy kid acrobatics to get to things he couldn't reach or to follow someone into a particularly difficult area.
Two years. It had been two years since Prosper had been able to look at a teenage Scipio. He used to be gangly and awkward, stumbling around in high heeled boots to seem taller or an old pair of sneakers for gripping during his 'thieving'. He used to be tall, but no taller than Prosper, with hair as dark as night and skin as pale as moonlight. His hair used to fall into a ponytail.
Now Prosper only glimpsed that long forgotten teen in glances, that split second before remembering that Scipio had changed in appearance. Now Scipio was a foot taller than Prosper, who had caught up somewhat with growth spurts throughout his teens, with hair cut to his shoulders and only held back when he was cleaning, cooking, or wearing a disguise that required it. Now he wore mostly suits that Victor had stored away long ago after they stopped fitting and a few he'd purchased with the money he'd stolen from his father before he left. His skin was darker now that he could go outside in the daylight and his hair had lightened in the sun. But Scipio still knew how to pull off a good street shirt and jeans. He still knew how to look young and snazzy and wink at the pretty girls.
Prosper smiled while he watched Scipio work. Scipio fell over an old stack of newspapers he'd meant to throw out or get recycled but hadn't yet, and Prosper stifled his laughs in the book he was reading. Scipio grumbled about newspapers and messes in a very comical manner until he noticed the gleeful glint in Prosper's eyes over the top of his reading. Prosper tried to hide, but Scipio had noticed.
Prosper knew Scipio had aged physically, but there were times he knew Scipio was the same boy, torn between being young and being a grown-up, as ever. Times like this proved that. Instead of telling Prosper to respect him or telling him to leave the room, as Victor often did, Scipio walked over and poked Prosper in the nose while he smiled.
"You think that's funny, do you?" he asked.
"Maybe just a little," Prosper admitted with a teasing grin. "I can't imagine the thief lord being so clumsy."
"Oh?" Scipio asked, voice low. He got a mischievous look to him then and Prosper found himself wearing the old, familiar bird mask of the thief lord. Scipio made sure it was tight and then chuckled. "Now you're the thief lord," he said.
Prosper smiled. He could see the slimness of Scipio's body through his shirts, especially when he was this close. Aging had done nothing, as of yet, to the male's physique and the way he trained and used it. He was lean, not "skinny", and exercised at least three hours a day. Prosper knew this because Scipio often asked him to join in to keep him company.
Prosper put his hand on and felt those toned muscles through the other male's shirt. He smiled up at Scipio and saw the look of confusion and embarrassment on the other's features. He was so shy about his body. It was cute, even on this older Scipio.
"You are," Prosper said. "You will always be my thief lord."
Scipio frowned through his embarrassment and flicked the nose of the mask. The whole thing moved down over Prosper's face, covering his eyes and putting the nose on his mouth. Scipio flopped down by Prosper on the small loveseat Victor had in his office and leaned back.
"You know I'm at least ten years your senior, yeah?" he asked. Prosper laughed and pulled the mask up until it looked like there was a bird's face coming out of his hair.
"Not to me. As far as I'm concerned, we're still the same age, and I don't care if that age is late teens or late twenties. We're still the same," he said. "And there's nothing you can do to convince me otherwise, so there."
Scipio seemed to be at a loss for words. He watched Prosper in confused awe while the other pretended to go back to his reading. Prosper knew Scipio didn't understand his feelings or even half of the wild things he said, but he loved letting Scipio know what he was thinking or feeling anyway. Besides, sometimes he enjoyed seeing the expressions the once great thief lord would adopt when he heard such things. It made Scipio's blank confusion worth it.
"You really still see us as the same age?" Scipio asked curiously.
"Yeah. You're still the same Scip to me." Prosper took his eyes off his book and looked over at his leader. He looked humbled and touched.
"Wow… Now I feel silly for sometimes wishing I was still your age," he admitted.
"Why?" Prosper set his book aside and gave his attention entirely to Scipio.
"I don't know. I just keep thinking that the lot of you will forget about me now that I'm a grown-up. I sort of miss our late night rendezvous," the other said. He had a far off look in his eyes, like someone remembering an old memory.
"Well whatever the others decide, you can always count on me, Scip. I'm here for you." Prosper put a hand on Scipio's knee in a sign of comfort and assurance.
"Thanks, Prop. It's good to know I'll always have one teammate."
Scipio pat Prosper on the back and Prosper smiled. He pulled the mask off of his head and slipped it onto Scipio. Then, before the raven haired man could retaliate, he leaned over and kissed the mask's forehead.
"You'll always be my thief lord," he promised softly and pulled back. Scipio looked stunned even through the mask. "But you're still Victor's dog, and he won't be happy if you leave the papers lying like that."
Worry flashed over Scipio's face and he leapt up to fix the mess he'd made before. Prosper sat and watched him work for another hour still, and Scipio never moved to take the mask off. Whether it was because he was distracted by work or because he liked it Prosper didn't know, but his age became even less evident with that old, familiar carnival mask staring out at the world. Prosper smiled.
Once a thief lord, always the thief lord. It just came with the job.
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