Unexpected
I do not own Galactik football and I make no money from the fanfiction.
This fic is set a few months before the beginning of Season 1. Part of the inspiration for this fic came from 'Mathematics of regret' which is a wonderful fic by Wildcard that also features a drunken Artegor- check it out if you haven't already!
Norata stared from a short distance, it was a position he often found himself in, on the fringes looking in at the centre. He couldn't decide whether to approach the bar or not. He sighed for what felt like the twentieth time in the last few minutes. He'd come here to escape momentarily from the life of a single parent, from the life of being the abandoned one. He hadn't expected to have to deal with the problem of spotting Artegor Nexus of all people, sitting at the bar, perfectly naturally as if he frequented the place all the time.
This was Norata's regular bar, he often came here to drink and he had never once seen Artegor before. In fact, to the best of his knowledge, Artegor was supposed to be living on the Shadows Archipelago; he wasn't supposed to be on Akillian at all- he hadn't been here for years. Norata rubbed his eyes and tried to focus his eyesight to make sure it was really him. The further inspection led Norata to believe that he had been correct in identifying that man as Artegor; after all it wasn't as if there were many people who would wear sunglasses even inside or sport that ridiculous hairstyle. It was definitely him and so this caused more problems than a night out drinking should do.
So now he had to decide whether or not to go up to the bar as usual but risk being seen and forced to interact with his former team-mate or to just turn around and go home. He didn't want to have to speak to Artegor; they had never especially got on even when they were on a team together. In fact, despite the image that the old Akillian team had presented, no-one bar Aarch had particularly liked Artegor- he had always been anti-social and he had a terrible temper when provoked. Add to that the fact that he had ran off to the Shadows when Akillian was going through tragedy, Norata felt even more antagonistic towards him than he had previously.
Norata was just about to leave when he suddenly felt a rush of heat, anger, run through him. This was his usual bar. Artegor was the stranger here, Artegor had left this planet. Why should he have to leave because of Artegor? He turned back around and strode (as best as he could with his leg) towards the bar and took the seat next to Artegor, just because he could.
"Artegor, to what do we owe this pleasure?" he said, wanting to get the first word in, before Artegor could speak.
Artegor's head turned his head at the mention of his name; clearly he hadn't noticed Norata sitting down next to him. "Norata," he said, shortly, trying to mask his surprise.
"I'll have a Wambasian whiskey," Norata said to the barman, before turning his attention back to Artegor. "I'll bet your drinking some Shadows' drink." His tone was biting.
"As a matter of fact, it is," Artegor said, not even pretending to be friendly. He didn't even seem defensive. Looking at him like this, Norata could see that Artegor had changed somewhat from his younger days; he seemed even more bitter, his anger seemed to be lurking just below the surface and this struck Norata as something that was just constant in his life. He'd heard that Smog could do strange things to people.
Norata took a sip of his own drink that had just arrived before speaking again. He was determined to make Artegor leave; he'd shown a talent for it when he'd ran off to the Shadows and so Norata didn't think it'd be too hard.
"How's Aarch?" he said, innocently enough. He resented Aarch and Artegor was here and so he was bearing the brunt of that resentment. Normally he wouldn't have mentioned Aarch, he preferred to pretend he was dead, but he knew that the easiest way to get to Artegor was Aarch; it had brought a vicious smile to his face when the news had reported their very public bust-up.
"How would I know? I'm not his babysitter," Artegor said, anger creeping into his voice. Artegor then picked up his glass and finished the vile looking liquid.
The gesture prompted some sort of realisation in Norata. He didn't actually hate Artegor, he didn't care enough to hate him. Aarch and Artegor were partners in crime, both guilty of abandoning their Planet, friends and family when they had been needed most but even though Norata knew that Artegor had been the one to convince Aarch to leave for the Shadows, he blamed Aarch for the entire thing. Artegor had never been Mr. Altruistic, but Aarch had always been the golden boy, Akillian's hope for the future. Aarch had let them all down, Norata was his brother, but it seemed that family paled in comparison with riches and fame. At least Artegor had no-one to disappoint.
"No, of course not. So why are you here?"
"On Akillian? Or do you mean in the bar?"
"Either. Both," Norata said, taking another gulp of his drink.
"I'm here because I want a drink. I'm on Akillian because I've been made the coach of a new team: The Red Tigers." Artegor's pride was evident in his voice. Norata was envious of Artegor, he always seemed to land on his feet somehow, he managed to stay in the game. Norata had been taken out permanently as soon as he had lost his leg.
"I don't see why there's any need to revive that accursed sport, hasn't this Planet suffered enough?" Norata said, getting genuinely angry.
"Clearly not," Artegor answered, not interested in attempting to reason with Norata over the issue.
He drank some more of a drink that Norata had not noticed him ordering, it didn't look that different to the first one apart from the fact that this one was murky grey whereas the other one had been a gloomy purple. Norata assumed that this drink also originated from the Shadows' Archipelago. He wondered how Artegor was able to drink the stuff, from all accounts he had heard, it was extraordinarily strong not to mention it tasted ghastly- most humans wouldn't touch the stuff but Artegor was chugging it like it was water.
Artegor finished that drink and ordered yet another, this one the same as the first.
"How can you drink that stuff?" Norata asked. He wasn't even sure why he was still here anymore, he'd had a couple of drinks and usually it would be time to go about now. But yet he stayed, as if glued to his seat.
"Practice," Artegor replied, curtly, his eyes narrowing as he remembered all those nights he spent drinking with Aarch, before he had betrayed him that was. Aarch had always been a heavy-weight when it came to drinking and so Artegor was determined to become even better; he would beat Aarch in everything, no matter how small, he wanted to crush Aarch entirely. He proved it by finishing the drink and ordering yet another. He usually would have stopped there but he felt he needed to prove something now that he had been reminded of Aarch by the unexpected meeting with Norata; Aarch's treasured little brother looking worse for the wear.
Twenty minutes later and Norata was guiding Artegor out of the bar because he had overdone it on the Shadowian alcohol; he evidently wasn't as practiced as he had boasted. As Norata practically had to drag Artegor along he wondered again why he was doing this. He didn't even like Artegor; he didn't see why he should have to make sure he got home safely. It was just as well that Rocket was old enough to be left alone for the night. Norata grit his teeth as Artegor stumbled and leaned even more heavily on Norata. He had lost a leg, he wasn't supposed to be helping drunk ex-team-mates down the street. He reassured himself that he would get to Artegor's place as quickly as possible (Artegor had been just sober enough to give him sufficient directions) and then leave and go back home and forget the evening ever happened.
He struggled to get Artegor up the stairs and once again he cursed the fact that Artegor had shown up at his bar. Eventually he managed to find Artegor's hotel room, opening the door and switching on the light before dumping Artegor on the bed with a sigh of relief that his weight was off his shoulders. He slumped on the floor, tired from the trek to Artegor's hotel (he was old and out of shape), fully intending to leave as soon as he managed to catch his breath.
Eventually he moved to get up, not having fully caught his breath, but feeling that he just wanted to leave.
"Don't go," Artegor whined at Norata. If Norata hadn't already been able to tell that Artegor was drunk then he would have been able to tell now. Artegor when sober would never have said something like that; he was usually so detached from everyone.
Norata was unsure as to what to do, he didn't exactly have much experience with drunk people and he had certainly never seen Artegor drunk before, when they had been team-mates Artegor was exceedingly careful as to what he ate and drank so that his performance on the field wasn't affected.
He wanted to leave but grudgingly he walked a bit closer to Artegor's bed. "Why not?"
"You always leave me," Artegor said, whining some more.
Norata couldn't help but feel that Artegor had stolen his line. He didn't know what he was talking about but he just assumed that it was some random alcohol-fuelled rant.
From the bed, Artegor somehow managed to get a hold of Norata's arm and pull him into the side of the bed. Norata said "ouch" as he managed to stub his toe on his good leg. What was Artegor doing now? Norata was getting increasingly more annoyed by Artegor's behaviour, it wasn't his responsibility to look after him, they weren't even friends.
"Artegor, get off me," he said, firmly, he wasn't putting up with this anymore.
"No, not this time," Artegor said, the determination in his voice marred by the fact that he was slurring his words. Suddenly he pulled even harder and before Norata even knew what was going on, Artegor had started to, well, kiss him.
The sensation was fairly alien to Norata. He hadn't been kissed since Keira had left him and so he had allowed himself to forget what it felt like. Although he felt certain that it hadn't felt like this, Artegor was aggressive, his kisses furious.
Norata wasn't as drunk as Artegor but he had consumed enough alcohol that he managed to kiss back without querying what exactly it was he was doing. He almost forgot that it was Artegor.
"Aarch...." Artegor moaned, making Norata jolt back at the mention of his brother's- of Aarch's name.
"What?" he said, startled.
"I've really missed you, Aarch, why did you leave?"
Norata was shocked as he realised what was going on; Artegor thought he was Aarch. He was surprised, people always used to remark that he and Aarch looked nothing alike; Aarch was always the handsome one, he was just the pale little brother, standing in Aarch's shadows. In another way, he wasn't surprised; so it was about Aarch, it made sense- it was always about Aarch.
He glanced at Artegor and realised that he had passed out- or fallen asleep, Norata couldn't tell. He turned the light off as he left. They would both forget about this; Artegor because he had consumed copious amounts of alcohol and Norata because he simply didn't care. He'd never cared about Artegor and Artegor had never cared about him. He would go back to his son and look after him and try to forget about the ghost of his brother hanging over him.
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