Lahar strode purposely into the bar, not paying any heed to those that he bumped into. There was no time for simple formalities, he was wasting his time here enough as it was. A finger untangled itself from the confines of his white sleeve, rising to push his glasses to the bridge of his nose. With his sight renewed, he let his eyes sweep the room, only stopping their search when he saw the figure hunched over the bar.
Wasting no time, Lahar changed his path, heading straight towards the bar. As he marched, the faint sound of irate mumbles could be heard escaping his tightly pursed lips. Anger radiated in waves off of him, the force of his frustration almost tangible to the numerous bar-dwellers that surrounded him. Hastily, drunken patrons stumbled backwards, not wanting to receive his wrath. The only person that didn't seem to notice him was the reason for Lahar's murderous intent.
"Damn idiot. It's been 2 years already, you would think he would just let it go by now, but noooooo. Mr. pissy is too good to get on with his fucking life." Lahar hissed angrily, unable to control the rage boiling inside of him. With each step he took, he felt his irritation at his junior increase exponentially. His bad mood wasn't helped by the long fringe of his robe, constantly being abused by the crushing weight of his feet trampling all over the white hem. "Gah, I fucking HATE this thing. Why can't the council give us practical uniforms? These girly dresses do nothing more than get in my way. How do they expect us to chase down criminals while tripping over our damn feet every 5 seconds?"
True to his angry ranting, his foot caught in the cloth, causing Lahar to stumble into the object that all his hatred stemmed from. He caught himself on the man's shoulder, fingers digging tightly into his red t-shirt. The drunken man spun around, protesting irately at the man clinging to his shoulder. "Heey, Whacha doin'? Watch where ya walkin', ya dumbass."
At Doranbolt's thoughtless disregard of his superiority, Lahar's temper flared even brighter and his fingers dug even harder into the drunk's shoulder, drawing a hiss of pain from the man beneath his grasp.
Lahar sucked in a deep breath, attempting to reign in his rage. If he lost his temper and simply yelled at Doranbolt, a fight would ensue. As much as he wanted to beat the shit out of Doranbolt, he couldn't risk hurting the man, lest anger him so much that he would be unable to fulfill the mission, personally assigned by Guran Doma.
"I did watch where I was walking. It just so happened that I was walking toward you, Doranbolt." Lahar leveled a gaze at the bedraggled man, daring him to speak to him in another disrespectful tone. "Now, if you are done drowning your sorrows in cheap liquor, I have a proposition for you."
Doranbolt shrugged his shoulder, shaking Lahar's loosened grip off of the appendage. Grasping a beer in his hand and taking a swig, he replied, "I ain't interested, Lahar. Go bother someone who actually gives a shit 'bout this damned country and leave me to drink in peace."
Lahar intercepted the drunk's hand, fingers clasping tightly to the alcohol-weakened hand. "I'm not giving you an option. This is an order. Get your drunk ass out of this bar so that we can discuss the mission details in a more secluded area." To emphasize his point, Lahar tipped the hand with the beer, sending frothy liquid splattering across the bar's dirty floor. To his disgust, some spilled onto his uniform, staining the pristine white a muddy-yellow color that closely resembled urine. He wrinkled his nose, but otherwise made no outward signs of his repugnance. It was his own negligence that got his robe dirty, so making a scene about it would simply be melodramatic. Besides, the aghast face that Doranbolt made was highly amusing, making the endeavor entirely worth a little dry cleaning.
Lahar pulled the stunned man to his feet, an action made easy by the combination of shock and the amount of alcohol clouding his system. He dragged the protesting man out the door, throwing down enough Jewels to cover the cost of Doranbolt's drinks twice over. The bartender gave Lahar a cautious smile of gratitude before shoving the newly-attained money into his pockets. Amusement glinted in Lahar's violet eyes as he watched the greedy antics of the bartender. It was to be expected from someone of his class. Generally, the bartender had to hassle the drinker to pay up rather than the customer paying over twice the amount of the money that was due.
Oh well. It wasn't like Lahar had any need for that much money anyway. He almost never used it, leaving it to pile up in long-forgotten corners of his house. He would count this as his good deed for the day.
A small smirk had begun to tug at his lips, only to be interrupted by a weak moan of protest, emanating from Doranbolt. "Hey, if you're gonna drag me to god knows where, at least try not to drop me. The way you've been acting today, I'd say that you're the drunk one."
"I am most certainly not drunk. I am simply realizing the stupidity behind these preposterous robes." Lahar sniffed indignantly, whilst purposely jostling Doranbolt more than necessary. The action did not go unnoticed by Doranbolt, who squirmed from Lahar's grasp as soon as he felt the grip around his wrist loosen minutely. When he reclaimed movement of his wrist, he shook out his hand, wincing at the joints that popped from the sudden change of position.
"Whatever ya say, boss. Let's jus' get this thing over with so I can get back ta the bar."
"Oh no you don't." Lahar snapped, his already thin patience wearing down to the core. "You are restricted from touching any alcohol until we complete this assignment."
"But what if I dun wanna do it?" Doranbolt whined, looking piteously behind him, as if hoping that the bar would be right behind him, bartender offering another drink to the already inebriated man.
"My asking you is just a formality. I'm forcing you to do this, whether or not you want to. So suck it up and deal with it. Quit acting like a child." The second Lahar spoke those words, he noticed the guilt that crossed Doranbolt's face. It was as if all life had been sucked from his eyes, leaving the blue depths shallow and empty.
"She was just a child. Did you know that she was only 12 years old when she…" Doranbolt choked back a strangled sob, turning away from where Lahar, who stood watching the entire ordeal with ill-disguised discomfort.
"Look, Doranbolt…" Lahar began, guilt swirling in his gut. As ridiculous as Doranbolt's sustained grieving period was, it was still a grieving period. Lahar just hadn't realized the scope of Doranbolt's vulnerability.
This was completely out of character for Doranbolt. What had happened to the strong, dependable man that Lahar had worked alongside for years? How could one little incident, one little girl, so drastically change the life of a man that was once as strong and solid as the island that had been depreciated by Acnologia?
"Please, Lahar, let me go back." Doranbolt murmured, still turned away from Lahar. "I…I can't deal with this all by myself. I need…" He swayed precariously, alcohol and grief swirling together in a single moment of pure exhaution. Lahr attempted to grab onto the staggering man, but Doranbolt simply shook his outstretched hand away. Doranbolt slid against the nearest wall, body weight supported by the rough brick. He slid down, head cradled in his hands and unabashed tears slipping down his face.
Lahar could only stare in abject horror as his blue eyes fluttered shut and his breathing became deeper. The tears still streamed down his face, but even so, it was obvious that the smaller man had fallen asleep.
"Oh, Doranbolt, what am I going to do with you?" He muttered, swinging Doranbolt over his shoulder with ease. For the second time that day, Lahar was dragging Doranbolt, although this instance was much more irritating than the previous time.
He walked carefully, attempting not to jostle the sleeping man. Even the fringe of his robe stayed out of his path as he heaved Doranbolt to a nearby hotel. Lahar threw a few Jewels at the astounded desk clerk, demanding a room. The girl simply nodded at him, handing him a key card with room 208 written in big black marker.
Lahar wasted no time getting change from the woman, eager to get Doranbolt off his back. With large strides, he marched towards the room, stopping in front of an ornate gold door. It would seem he paid yet another excessive amount of money, if this was what he had gotten with the bills he threw around.
He shifted his weight, shoving the key in the slot, relieved when it opened on his first try. It was against his nature to waste time fiddling with idiotic things. When he got in the room, he laid the unconcious man on the nearest bed, pulling the sheets over his catamacose body.
Lahar let out a deep sigh, his gaze drifting to the sleeping man sprawled out on the mattress. There was no use in waking him up now. Lahar could always brief him on the mission details tomorrow morning. For now, he would simply let Doranbolt sleep off the alcohol that swirled in his system. Maybe he would be easier to reason with in the morning.
"Sleep tight, Doranbolt. This will be the last time for a while that you get to sleep in a comfortable bed."
A/N. Now, why am I the first one to post a Lahar x Doranbolt story? It always seemed to be an obvious pairing to me, since they are always shown together. Even in my Doranbolt x Wendy story, Lahar is a major part of Doranbolt's life. There is a lack of love for these two and I am going to change that.
Well, there is a major lack of yaoi pairings in Fairy Tail in general. I get that there are a lot of girl characters in Fairy Tail to pair the boys up with, but it's no fun that way. Where are the boy x boy stories? Give me yaoi or give me death!
Okay, I'm done ranting now. Enjoy the rest of your day, good people. I'll be back with more Lahar x Doranbolt soon.