Title: Russian-Roulette
Pairings: KurlozxNitram
Nitram waited in the room, trying to ignore the fear that consumed his heart.
He was afraid, he had always been afraid of death. As a child he would see the skulls around his home during the autumn month, skeletons danced in the streets and his mother would take them to the cemetery to see their grandmother. Abuelita was never at the celebrations but his mother insisted they leave food for her, as her hunger stretched from her loneliness. Each year another relative took hands with the grim reaper, he would take both young and old, good and bad.
Death had smiled at him a few times, extending his hand to lead him to the lonely afterlife, whatever that was.
The creak of the door alerted him to his fate, he grimaced at the sight of his fellow player. Kurloz Makara was one of the luckiest men in their group, he had danced with death many times coming out unscathed. When he had first joined the gang he secretly admired the quiet man, his eyes constantly drawing to the stitches on the sides of his mouth. His face was always in a clean-cut smile, and he could never get the story about it straight. Kurloz never told him about it either, he simply smiled and patted his head.
The tall grim man sighed, putting the gun on the table and kept his head down; Nitram bit his lip and mourned their failure.
Kurloz's plan was for them both to escape the gang together, they had already bought an apartment and food for a month; they each had a dream to follow, and gang life would only hinder their new direction. Nitram sighed, the only ways out were either death or winning the roulette. Nitram was on his last game, he would be set free if he won this game. He was going to wait at the apartment until Kurloz got out, and they would help each other out from then on.
With the flip of a coin the first player was chosen; Kurloz would take the first spin.
Nitram felt his heart drop as the spotter loaded the bullet and handed it to the smiling man, spinning it before loading the round and placing the end to his temple. His heart froze, Nitram held his breath and waited for the pull-
Click!
The first time he met Kurloz was when he got his new room, they had originally been doormates. The tall dark man was quiet and refused to speak to Nitram, and he could only stand awkwardly every time they ran into one another. Detachment was their silent code, neither getting to know the other or exchange any words. It wasn't until Nitram had been scared nearly half to death by a skeleton face(which had been painted on), making him scream (like a girl) and flail wildly until falling down. Kurloz was dumbfounded at first but eventually broke out in laughter, the melodic noise filling the room and breaking the silent code. Nitram had been left speechless in sheer awe of his beautiful laugh, that was the first time he could traceback his feelings. Kurloz extended his hand, helping Nitram up from his spectacle.
"It's alright, there's no need to be afraid."
He put the gun down, his expression unreadable as he avoided eye-contact; Kurloz didn't even flinch or waiver with the pull. The process was repeated except this time he would be the one to play. He spun the revolver, clicking it into place before slowly bringing the trigger to his head. His heart dropped and Kurloz gave him a reassuring smile, he could practically see the face paint on again, it would either be him or his friend.
Click!
The second time he felt something strange with Kurloz was when they held their first long chat. After their code was broken they would speak to each other in short spurts, but nothing intimate or friendly. If anything it was simply courtesy, very few words exchanged yet holding something more than just a regular relationship. If anything it was their own silent language, knowing before anything had to be said. This was the second time Kurloz initiated the event, glumly hinting that his recent break-up was weighing him down. Nitram listened to the story, and frowned at the ending; she seemed like a sweet girl but it just hadn't worked out.
"She says the love just isn't there anymore and I already know that was the truth."
He was already rolling again, the clicks reminding him of an hourglass that would slowly run out, signaling the end of time. The silence in the room was deafening, suddenly recalling Kurloz's girlfriend was also deaf. Maybe the bullet would make him deaf if it didn't kill him-
Click!
Kurloz had helped him with his issue of death, instead regarding it as an indicator of a life well lived. The more Nitram thought about it the more it made sense. Kurloz had laughed, saying it could have also been luck as well. Soon they somehow moved onto the subject of love, and Kurloz was strangely enough very devoted and romantic, his ideas and advice always won Nitram the girl. Despite his love intelligence he never spoke of his own romances, instead shaking his head and smiling(Nitram was desperate to know, this being the third time that his feelings were mystifying).
"I want true love, and if they're willing to die for me then I know I've found them."
It was his turn again, and he could barely keep himself from not freaking the fuck out. Sweat beaded down his neck, his heart must have been visible. His hand trembled, his finger refusing to pull the trigger. Kurloz reached over and placed a warm hand on his, lightly squeezing, "Hey...chill. Close your eyes, sometimes it helps..." Nitram gave a shaky breath and let his eyes slip close, somewhat calmer in the darkness. He was still terrified but he found the strength to pull the trigger again-
Click!
Kurloz had issued a dorm change, and the tug that followed the news had indicated something more(this was the fourth time he felt something strange). Nitram hated his new partner despite his kindness, and he set his hate on a man named Mituna. Mituna and Kurloz had been old friends, and they were practically inseparable, attached to one another at the hip. The thought of them still made his blood boil, he couldn't stand to see Kurloz so happy with someone else. Makara had finally approached him after weeks of the cold shoulder, apologizing and using his same love-tactics to apologize to him.
"Look, just go with it, okay? I swear that I'll make-it up to you."
His heart froze over at the sight of Kurloz taking another shot, the pressure nearly crushing him and killing him. He still admired the man across from him, venerating his courage and aloofness when it came to death.
Soon his thoughts changed, fear turning his mind against his heart; If Kurloz was here then that meant he had won every game before. He had only been with the gang for three years resulting in twelve games to gain freedom. Makara had been there for much longer(also being much older than Nitram), and he struggled to remember the exact number of years he said he had been there.
"13 horrible years Nitram, please don't ever ask me again..."
A grimace came to his face, Kurloz would have to win fifty-two games. He heart sank as his body began to cry out, there was no way Kurloz would be able to win that many games. He brought his free hand to cover his mouth, pushing back tears and attempting to recompose himself.
The spotter laughed, a wheeze following after the sound, "Man Kurloz, you ready to get another win? You already got 32, but you still got a ton more to go. Heh, you're one lucky bastard."
Nitram had no escape, somebody's luck was going to run out soon. Guilt and sadness loomed over him, hugging him from behind and leaning on him, ready to drag him down into the darkest of places. Nitram began to accept his face, he would be the one to die. The certainty of his answer was calming, at least Kurloz would-
Click!
He regretted not telling him sooner. He should have tried harder, made an effort to explore these feelings with Kurloz. Nitram took the gun again, smiling, "I...I'm really sorry Kurloz." He tried to take in as much as he could, savoring the feeling of their hands touching, his life quickly flashing before his eyes, focusing on the moments he spent with Kurloz. His heart seemed to be at ease now, he could already hear Kurloz crying at his funeral. The sound would still be just a beautiful as his laugh, but this time he would try to silence that lovely noise.
He quickly spun again, taking a deep breath and positioning himself again. He took one last final look at the forever smiling man, adoring his long dark curls and blue eyes, tracing the curves and contours of thick muscle and flesh, loving both his mind and body(now he understood the tug and pull of his heartstrings).
Click!
Kurloz took the gun again, quickly spinning the reel and laughing, "I'm so happy I found you."
Nitram gave a curious glance, dumbfounded by his statement. Kurloz continued to smile, his eyes gleaming bright blue, "I knew you were my true love." He covered Nitram's eyes, getting up and kissing his forehead, "Close your eyes dear." Once he was in darkness Kurloz took hold of his hand again, gently rubbing his hand with his thumb.
Nitram listened carefully to Makara's smooth voice, "I love you Nitram. Please take care of yourself and your little brother."
The loud bang that resounded in the room echoed in his mind, rattling his bones and making his heart twist painfully, Kurloz's hand twitched and held onto his hand before loosing it's strength and simply curled around his fingers. The clank and thud that followed after only confirmed the end, guilt settling in his chest and making him nauseous. Fresh tears ran from his closed eyes, warmth sliding down his cheeks, there was no way Kurloz would have won fifty-two games.
Nitram hopelessly tried to stay silent and swallow the sadness in his heart, but he broke down and let his sobs fill the air. He didn't even care that he won, now he was in shambles, clutching the lifeless hand, bringing it to his mouth and kissing each knuckle softly. He could barely keep his hand steady, shaking with pure grief and sorrow.
That night he was kicked out from the group, he headed to his apartment and sighed sadly.
He turned on the light and found a gift on the small kitchen table. Sitting down and bringing the box closer he let his palms rest on the wooden table. After taking a few moments he began to open his surprise, finding a (badly) stitched plush bull with fairy wings along with a note:
Dear Nitram,
It's nice to finally see you home. I'm sorry I can't join you yet, but I promise I'll make it up to you. It took me a while but I kind of made this for you. I apologize for the bad quality, I'm not too good at sowing anything but mouths. I know how much you missed the one your little brother gave you and I though maybe this one would provide some sort of comfort to you. I realize now that my little boy knows yours.
Gamzee wanted me to dress up for dia de los muertos and I painted my face, remember? You got scared, but I didn't know that Tavros was your younger brother. He's doing well according to Gamzee, and now that you're free I hope that you can go find him again.
I still have a bit more to go before I can see Gamzee again so please be patient.
I look forward to staying with you and making a new home with you.
Love,
Kurloz Makara
Nitram broke-down for the second time that day, grabbing the doll and holding it close, his throat seemed to close up with occasional glass shards slicing into his neck. Grief and death held him down and rendered him useless again, lying helplessly as he let the wood soak up his tears.
He would have died for Kurloz, but it seemed that he was the one that got lucky in his dance with death. Fatigue finally settled around him like a suffocating blanket, and soon sleep tugged at his eyelids. Succumbing to sleep he began to dream of Kurloz with his painted face, smiling ever so perfectly and extending a hand for him to take, encouraging him to dance with him again...
