First kisses were supposed to be...not this. If he'd gleaned anything from all of those sappy movies he'd wasted too many weekends watching, it was that the first kiss shared between people was supposed to be...special. Well timed. Romantic. Meaningful. They weren't, as far as he knew, supposed to be used as some kind of last ditch effort to shut one's ever bitching partner up. So why he'd thought it was a good idea was beyond him. Though...it had worked.

"...The fuck was that?"

Or he'd thought it had.

Heine sighed heavily and frowned slightly, absently raking a hand through his hair. Great. Now he had to explain himself. To what looked like an indignant, offended, and flustered smoker. Shrugging one shoulder as offhandedly as he could, the albino offered, "A new strategy."

"For what?" Badou snapped furiously, his face still closer to the color of his hair than anything else.

Heine picked at an itch on his shoulder, not letting his partner's mood effect his own. "You. And your incessant whining."

"What ever happened to hitting me?" The smoker stomped his foot like some kind of angry child.

Arching an eyebrow, Heine crossed his arms loosely over his chest. "The way you're acting you'd think I did."

Huffing shortly, the redhead moved to step in before thinking differently and taking a step back instead. If only to not waste the momentum. "Well people don't exactly go planting one on each other when they're angry, stupid!"

"I'm not going to do it again now, am I?" Heine scoffed, shaking his head shortly. "It didn't exactly work."

Badou grumbled under his breath, eying Heine like the man was going to bite him before easing up in the smallest of ways. Though the albino had come to recognize the signs; the near undetectable lowering of the shoulders, the slight relaxation in his partner's facial muscles, the lack of tension in those long fingers. And the fact that Badou usually went for a cigarette was a significantly more obvious tell.

The pang of tobacco smoke in the air was something Heine was getting used to. The sound of a lighter clicking shut was almost comforting now. But when the cancer stick was removed from his partner's lips, it usually meant a stupid question was about to follow.

"So...when you said you gave that guy a 'peck on the cheek', did you actually mean it?"

Right on cue.

"What do you think, moron?"

Badou took another long drag and let a lungful of smoke fill the air between himself and the albino on a thoughtful sigh. "Considering how sloppy the one you gave me was, I figure no. I'm actually willing to bet that was your first."

Heine almost choked on the breath he took and it had nothing to do with the cloud of lung cancer hanging in front of him. That was a response he wasn't expecting. He was at a bit of a loss for just what to say in return, a faint heat rising in his face that he'd never felt before. And, if his partner's face was anything to go by, his reaction hadn't been what the other had been expecting either. The statement had probably come out of the moron's mouth before the redhead's brain could filter it...

Several awkward moments passed, Heine staring off to one side and Badou steadily filling the air with his cigarette smoke. As the stick burnt down to the filter, however, and the redhead was forced to drop and crush it under the heel of his shoe, a soft cough preceded the flick of a lighter.

"So..." Badou muttered around his second cigarette, letting out another huff of smoke. "I guess I should go..."

The gunman nodded slowly, clearing his throat without thinking before replying. "Yeah. I figure you should."

There was yet another moment of uncomfortable silence, the rustling of the redhead's large coat the only sound as Badou moved past Heine. Both of them flinched slightly as the smoker's shoulder brushed against the albino's, their eyes meeting briefly before they immediately looked away from one another. Something had happened...And Heine was willing to blame his partner for it; Badou had been the one to open his stupid mouth after all...He refused to take the fall for this one.

You're the one that kissed him, oh genius master of mine.

Heine tensed and locked his jaw. What a fantastic time for his spine to give its opinion. At least Badou was gone now; the door to the church had bumped closed with its usual reverberating crash signaling the redhead's exit.

"It was to shut him up. You know that."

Of course it was. That's why you keep repeating it to yourself.

"Why don't you go back to sleep? There's no reason for you to be up."

I wake up when your adrenaline does.

"Fuck off..."

It wasn't nearly long enough before Heine had to go hunt his partner down again. As it turned out, they'd forgotten to stop by Liza's to pick up the pay from their last job and he was stuck on delivery duty. Which only really worked if he knew where Badou lived. Which he didn't. In all reality, he knew painfully little about his partner's personal life. Mostly because he either didn't listen to what the smoker was rambling about or because Badou felt like keeping secrets.

With what little knowledge he had retained, Heine managed to find his way to the restaurant the redhead frequented, wrinkling his nose at the heavy scent of tomato sauce and burnt garlic bread. A quick look around at the clients told him that Badou wasn't around, but the two women who seemed to know him were. The things he did sometimes...

Swallowing the instinctive wave of nausea and skittish unease that came with facing women, he forced himself to get close enough to at least catch their attention. The littler one recognized him first, pointing at him and shouting something about 'Badou's weirdo partner' visiting. He bit his lip and reminded himself he was doing this because he hated carrying this much cash on his person.

As she moved to get closer, he took several steps back, narrowing his eyes to keep her in one place. He was just here to talk and he made that perfectly clear by his posture.

"Which one of you knows where Badou lives?" he asked flatly, glancing between the younger girl and the older one.

The two exchanged confused looks before shrugging almost in unison. The smaller one – was her name Mimi? He was fairly sure it was... – shook her head and smiled crookedly. "We all thought you'd be the one who knew that."

Great. He'd come here and done this for nothing. He hated dead ends.

"We do know where he works part-time though," the girl went on without prompting, waving a small hand vaguely through the air.

Heine turned to her quickly, brow furrowed slightly. Badou had a job outside of what they did? He was probably supposed to know that...Well he'd know it now. "Where?"

Mimi shook her head, holding her hand out towards the albino. "Ah ah. I don't give away any information for free."

Rolling his eyes and muttering about greedy information brokers, Heine dug into the envelope Liza had given him and slapped several bills into the girl's palm. "Now where is he?"

Thumbing through the money she'd been given, Mimi beamed and pointed out the door. "He works at a convenience store five blocks to the south. It's next to the biggest building on the block. You'll know it when you see it."

That was hardly helpful, but he'd make use of it. It was the best he was going to get, he was sure. And he didn't want to spend any more time with the girl than he had to.

Muttering something close to thanks, he left quickly and followed the directions he'd been given. Sure enough, there was a convenience store where she'd said there'd be one. And one step inside told him that Badou worked there; the place reeked of his partner's cigarettes. No doubt this was where the redhead picked them up. Nonetheless, for all the clues, the man himself wasn't here. It was a dead end after all.

"Can I help you sir?"

Heine started slightly as a slightly hoarse voice called his attention. He turned to look at the man behind it, noting the ragged look to the individual's face. Clearly, the guy had worked here too long. Or was just tired of life like everyone else. Still, maybe he'd know something about Badou.

"Yeah. Does a lanky redhead work here?"

The man frowned suspiciously. "...I don't know."

Bullshit. Obviously his partner had a reputation of getting in shit here too. Shaking his head shortly, Heine dug out the envelope of cash yet again. "I'm trying to pay him."

"He's not in. Hasn't been for a while." The man shook his head, gesturing to the counter vaguely. That had been almost too easy. Clearly, this guy only cared enough about his coworkers or employees to lie once. There were plenty of people looking for jobs if he lost one after all.

Huffing shortly, Heine raked a hand through his hair. "Do you know where I can find him?"

Grumbling under his breath, the man shook his head as he started walking away. Over his shoulder, he offered, "Probably at his place, wherever that is. He doesn't tell anyone anything."

Heine was about three seconds away from breaking a window. Or a wall. Anything to vent how frustrated he was about this god damn goose chase. Fighting down the destructive urges, he followed after the retreating store clerk and caught the man by the shoulder. "Is there anyone who might know?" he growled out through his teeth with forced patience.

The clerk threw him a dirty look, curling his lip in disgust as he tried to shrug the albino's insistent grip off. When it was clear he was getting nowhere, the man finally gave in, though the information still wasn't entirely useful. "There's a woman who comes in here every now and then to see him, but she's a little out of her head. I might be able to find her address."

Snorting shortly, Heine pulled his hand away and turned on his heel. He clearly wasn't going to get what he wanted from this place. That girl though, that Mimi, might know something. And he could just fork out another chunk of his share of the pay for the information. This was turning out to be a hell of a lot more work than he'd counted on.

As it was, things didn't get any easier for a good two hours, all of which were spent running back and forth between places he'd been and places he'd never heard of, doling out one dollar after another before he finally found himself at the door of one of hundreds of worn down apartment buildings. The whole fucking city seemed to be made of them, and if this one wasn't Badou's, Heine was convinced he was going to blow every last one up until he found the redhead, either running to escape or buried under the resulting rubble.

Supposedly, his partner was up on the eighth floor somewhere. And the doors didn't lock quite as well as they originally had. So all it took was a quick kick from one of Heine's heavy boots to get him into the lobby, and another to get him to the stairs. He wasted no more time than he had to climbing to the floor he needed, jarring the door there open and looking around. That had been the easy part; figuring out which room actually belonged to the chain smoker would be a little trickier.

Or so he'd thought. As it turned out, having a heightened sense of smell – if only a touch – was all he really needed. It seemed that, after working with Badou for this long, Heine had learned to identify the scent of his partner's cigarette smoke. And one room absolutely reeked of it. It was as good a place to start as any, though the whole point of his searching had all but come to an end now; the envelope that held their pay was all but empty after all the bribes he'd had to hand out.

Heine knocked shortly, jaw locked in frustration as he waited for the longest minutes of the whole ordeal. After yet another painful beat, there was the sound of someone fussing with the locks and the door creaking open several inches before the chain stopped it from going any further.

"The fuck are you doing here?"

The albino could have fed the redhead his teeth. Instead, he forced himself to keep his tone relatively level. "You forgot your pay, dipshit."

There was another quiet click and clink as Badou finished unlocking the door the rest of the way, waving the gunman in quickly. And Heine had thought the man was bad on a job. Seemed like the smoker was just this paranoid all the time.

It took another minute for Badou to lock the door all over again, and Heine forced himself to wait patiently. After everything he'd been through, humoring his partner's neurotic tendencies was really fairly minimal. When the other man turned around to look at him expectantly, however, what little patience he was still managing slipped notably.

"What's with the look?" he bit out through his teeth.

Badou snorted and held his hand out. "You're the one who came to pay me. I'm just helping you finish your job."

Grumbling under his breath, Heine shook his head and dug through his pockets, finding the now significantly lighter envelope. He thumbed through the money that was left there, digging out what used to be Badou's share and holding it out. "There."

The smoker snorted and frowned heavily, batting the albino's hand away. "The fuck is that? That's less than a quarter of what's in that stupid envelope!"

"Yeah, well, I used the rest to find you," Heine spat back, meeting his partner's indignant glare with one of his own. "Because someone bolted before we got paid. So consider the missing cash my delivery fee."

Badou scoffed and blew a cloud of cigarette smoke into Heine's face. "No way. Halve what's there and split it that way. Your not finding me isn't my problem."

"The hell it isn't," the gunman snarled, jerking out of the reach of his partner's hand. "You don't tell me shit about where you live."

"How would you know?" Badou countered, stepping in and making a grab for the envelope again. "You never listen to what I tell you anyway!"

Heine sidestepped the redhead's approach, planting one hand on Badou's forehead to keep the man at arm's length. "I do too. Now stop acting like an idiot and just take what I'm willing to give you. You're lucky I'm not just keeping it all."

Badou swatted at Heine's hand, grabbing the gunman by the wrist and frowning heavily. "Don't pull that shit with me! You're always taking a smaller cut than me! Now shouldn't be any different!" The smoker's tone was bordering on whining now, his expression openly vexed.

Heine was used to the look by now though, and felt absolutely no guilt for keeping the redhead away from him with a touch more force. "Would you shut up? I went through a hell of a lot more trouble this time around."

"So you're telling me that finding my apartment is more trouble than getting filled full of lead? You've got fucked up standards." Badou huffed and gave up on his struggling, settling for smoking while he stared down the envelope in the other's hand.

"As if you didn't already know," the albino shook his and shoved his partner away from him, brushing himself off and stuffing the envelope back into his jacket.

Badou made a short, affronted, noise. "What're you doing? You still haven't paid me, you asshole."

"I've decided it's your own fault for bailing on me," Heine retorted flatly, turning on his heel to head out the fire escape. He wasn't going to wait for the neurotic redhead to unlock the front door again.

"Excuse me?" Badou spat angrily, padding after the other man and catching him by the shoulder. "I only bailed because you kissed me! Or did the part where it's all your fucking fault slip your mind?"

Heine growled threateningly and smacked Badou's hand away, turning on his partner and narrowing his eyes warningly. "I wouldn't have done that if you'd learn to shut up."

"That's not an excuse!" the smoker snarled right back, more than used to the albino's scare tactics, "You've gotten me to shut up before without trying to suck my face!"

"When have I ever gotten you to shut up without knocking you unconscious?" Heine countered sharply, staring the other man down unflinchingly. He wasn't going to lose to someone who spent all his time running from problems he'd created.

Badou attempted to start several sentences before he just shook his head and grabbed Heine's jacket. "The point is that it's your fault I bolted, so you owe me. Now fork over a decent amount of that cash and you can drag your angst ridden ass out of my apartment."

"You know what? Go fuck yourself." Heine flipped the redhead off and shoved Badou back and away from himself, turning to pry the window open so he could use the fire ladder. "You want cash, go make it yourself."

Lashing out on instinct, going against everything he'd learned in his years of working with Heine, Badou caught the albino by one of the gun chains at the man's hip and yarded his partner backwards. Unfortunately, due to Heine's metal spine, being pulled that way meant losing his balance. With a heavy thump and several loud, shameless, curses, the two of them wound up on the floor, the albino crashed on top of the redhead.

After a moment of indignant flailing, Heine managed to twist himself around, holding himself over Badou angrily. The chain the smoker had decided to pull was now pinned under the lanky moron, and it had the gunman stuck on the floor to some extent. Which only really served to make him angrier. "The fuck is wrong with you?"

"I worked...just as hard...as you...for that money," Badou huffed shortly, clearly still winded by the fall. Understandably so, if Heine took the time to think about it; he was significantly heavier than he looked and he'd landed almost square on top of the redhead. "Now give me my share."

"No." Heine growled the word out through his teeth, tugging the chain out from underneath the other man. "I'm leaving."

"Like hell you are!" the redhead snapped, fisting his hand in the front of Heine's jacket and keeping the man in place.

Ticking irritably under his breath, the gunman grabbed his partner's wrist and gave it a brief, threatening, squeeze. "Let me go."

Badou flinched but didn't give in, returning the white haired man's look of fury with one of his own. "Pay me and I will. Easy as that."

"Would you give it up? It's not even that much!" Heine made to tug on the smoker's wrist only to find his hand dislodged by a rather tricky maneuver. He hadn't known Badou could do that...Though it did explain why the idiot managed to escape so many times.

"I've got a smoking habit in case you haven't noticed," Badou scoffed, tightening his hold on the other's coat until the leather creaked slightly. "And I need the cash."

The whole situation was starting to wear on Heine's nerves. As stubborn as he'd known the redhead to be, he hadn't expected this. And he was starting to wonder why he'd even given enough of a damn to come looking for Badou. It was far from worth it at this point and he was starting to feel more awkward than frustrated at being held down on top of his partner.

"Would you shut up and just let me go?" he huffed shortly, raking a hand through his hair tiredly.

"Not until you pay me, asshole. I let you go and you're going to bolt."

"I am not! Now let me up!"

"You want up, you fork over half the cash in that envelope."

"I said no! There's not even enough in here to buy you a fuckin' pack."

"Heine..."

The redhead's voice was bordering on a whine again. Which meant that Badou could tell Heine wasn't so much angry anymore as he was tired. And that usually lead to the smoker believing he had some kind of upper hand. Heine hated it when it got that far.

However, Badou was never one to let a moment of silence slip by without taking advantage of it. "C'mon Heine. Plea-"

Heine wasn't going to hear it. At a loss for anything better to do, and in a bit of a panic to stop the whining before it could hit its full stride, the gunman ducked down and caught his partner's mouth with his own in a rather hurried, messy, last ditch effort. It had worked earlier that day...to some extent.

However, after the initial shock had worn off, Heine found himself being shoved backwards by a clearly flustered and offended smoker. Though he didn't wind up on his back as he'd half expected. Badou still had one hand curled tightly in the front of his jacket, though the redhead was glaring bloody murder at him. Which wasn't nearly as intimidating as it could be due to the color in Badou's face.

"The hell Heine?" his partner all but shouted, "The fuck is wrong with you today?"

"Your bitching is what's wrong with me," Heine retorted shortly, attempting to save face somehow. "And this is the only way that I've found that seems to stop you."

"Well fine! But if you're gonna stick to this strategy, I'm gonna demand that you learn to do it right!"

Heine was on the verge of another sharp rebuttal when his mind actually managed to process just what it was Badou had said. And when he did, he was at a loss for words. It was all he could do to open and close his mouth several times before making a short, affronted, noise and shaking his head shortly.

And yet again, the redhead was more than willing to fill in the silence. "I'm sick of the mess you're always making. I half expect you to chew through my lip every time you do that. So if you're gonna keep it up, learn to do it properly or I'm gonna punch you next time."

Finally managing to get his mind in working order, Heine spat back with strangled embarrassment, "And just how do you suggest I do that?"

"Practice," Badou said matter-of-factly. "Just like anything else."

Heine snorted and made to pull away from the smoker again. "Yeah. Because that sounds like a good idea." He shook his head and braced one of his hands on Badou's chest, working out of the other man's grip. "You're stupider than I remember you being. Now let me go."

Tugging the albino back down, Badou huffed and frowned heavily. "You're the thick one. Now, do you intend to keep using that strategy of yours or not?"

"...Depends on what you're getting at..." Heine returned the frown with one of his own, doing his best to ignore the unfamiliar heat that he could feel in his face. He knew it was there though. If only because Badou was starting to get that smarmy little grin he'd come to hate so much.

"I told you that you don't listen to what I say to you," the smoker snorted, keeping the distance between them to a relative minimum. "I said you should practice if you wanna keep sucking face to shut me up."

Heine sputtered a bit and shook his head, staring at the redhead incredulously. "You're kidding, right?"

"It's your strategy," Badou retorted, shrugging one shoulder absently. "And I figure you aren't applying it to anyone but me. So if you really want it to work, I figure you ought to learn how to do it right."

"...That's just weird," the gunman muttered, shaking his head again.

Badou arched an eyebrow critically. "Says the guy who's planted two on me today. Now c'mon. One lesson won't kill you and I can guarantee it'll shut anyone up you pull it on."

Shifting his weight a bit to keep his muscles from cramping, Heine huffed and tapped one hand against the floor. "And why are you helping me?"

"Again, you're not listening." Badou sighed heavily, looking overdramatically put out. "So I guess, I'll repeat myself. I'm trying to help you because I know you're not creative enough to think of a new 'strategy' and I don't need you chewing on me every time you apply it. So I'm gonna teach you how to do it right."

Heine frowned thoughtfully, weighing his options before giving a short, reluctant, nod. What was the harm? If 'doing it right' would shut the redhead up...trying it once couldn't hurt. It wasn't like he couldn't smack his partner if the idiot tried anything underhanded.

Badou smiled broadly – a look the gunman decidedly didn't like – and tugged the other man down carefully. "C'mere then. And pay attention. I'm only doing this once."

"I wouldn't ask for a second time, thanks," Heine grumbled under his breath. Though the lack of distance between them meant that his partner heard him anyway.

"Shut up now." The redhead hummed softly and pulled Heine down the rest of the way, covering the albino's mouth with his own.

The initial contact, the amount of seeming care that was taken with it, caught Heine off guard. His shoulders tensed briefly, his breath catching in his lungs as he tried to weigh the situation out. Badou tasted like cigarettes, though he'd gathered that from his own brief attempts. It was definitely more noticeable when they took their time, however, and with the redhead reciprocating...Heine couldn't help but notice that Badou had surprisingly soft lips. And very warm hands. And very touchable hair. And...

Pulling back shortly, the gunman huffed and shook his head, disentangling himself from his partner almost hurriedly. He raked a hand through his hair, muttered under his breath, and got to his feet, leaving a clearly confused Badou on the floor. Before the smoker could say anything, Heine dug into his coat and dropped the envelope onto the other man's chest.

"I'm leaving. There's your money." Without waiting for a response, Heine turned on his heel and all but fled the apartment. He couldn't stay there any longer. Not with his body betraying him like that. Where the hell had that come from anyway?

Dropping down onto the street, Heine raked a hand through his hair and glanced back up at Badou's apartment window. Fuck. The moron must have pulled something there. Because whatever had happened there, whatever that had been, was something he refused to take responsibility for. The fact that he was flustered, frustrated, and apparently...aroused was something he was going to force himself to ignore. And something he was still going to blame on his partner. Right after he walked it off. And talked to Bishop. The blind man was really his only source for information on shit like this...Which was really sad when he thought about it.

Maybe coming down to the church hadn't been the best idea. Nill was on him in an instant, as eager to see him as ever though he'd long since learned it was more because he'd come back alive than anything else. She was a sweet girl. He let her lead him by the hand, walking along with her until Bishop stepped out from whatever back room the man hid away in. It had taken long enough to get here and there was enough of a comfortable peace here that Heine was starting to wonder if he really wanted to talk about the earlier mess with his partner. It was starting to get late anyway...

"What brings you here today, Heine?" the blind man hummed, tapping his cane against the freshly swept floor. "I don't smell any gunpowder. Is this a friendly visit?"

Well...no point in backing out now. Clearing his throat lightly, he nodded and gently tugged his hand away from Nill. "Yeah. I need to talk to you. Preferably alone."

Bishop's smile didn't miss a beat, even in response to the odd request. "Would the confessional seem too cliché for you?"

Heine scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Fine. Whatever. Just lead the way." He offered Nill a faint, if slightly awkward, attempt at a reassuring smile. He didn't need her worrying about what he was talking about. It wasn't like it was life threatening. Just torture on his dignity.

The girl followed them to the back before breaking off, heading deeper into the church to stay out of sight in case someone came looking for her. Heine was always startled by just how big the building really was. And, for all its cracks and leaks, how good of a condition it was in. Even the confessional booths, which he was positive saw no use, were clean, sturdy, and almost nostalgically appealing.

Muttering under his breath, Heine stepped into the one furthest from him – he'd never done this before and wasn't sure of the protocol – and wrinkled his nose at the faint lingering of dust. He heard Bishop settle into the one next to him, heard the slide of metal against metal as the sheet opened the grating between them.

"Alright then. What's on your mind?"

It was unnerving, hearing Bishop's voice without being able to see the man. Though he could all but hear his 'older brother's' smile. "I've got partner problems."

A light chuckle floated across the metal barrier between them. "Oh? Badou again? What's he done this time?"

Shifting his weight around, Heine planted one foot heavily against the door in front of him, half hoping it would cave under the weight. "He's fucking with my head."

"I see. And how is he doing that exactly?" Bishop was being audibly patient. It was something the blind man had long since learned to do while dealing with the albino.

Now came the tricky part. How did he approach this without making it obvious that he technically started it? How did he word it so that it made Badou out to be the idiot the redhead was? Huffing irritably, Heine turned his eyes up to the flaking varnish of the confessional's roof and frowned heavily. "He's turning shit around on me." There. Vague but it got the point across.

Bishop laughed again, the light rapping of the man's cane on the wall between them telling the gunman that the other wasn't convinced. "And just what is he turning around? Hopefully not too many of your words; you don't say many after all."

"I worked out a strategy to stop his incessant whining and he's managed to turn it around on me," Heine snorted and shook his head, glancing back towards the rusted grating between them.

The light shuffling of fabric and the quiet slide of Bishop's long hair across the stiff cotton cassock was enough to tell Heine that the other had shaken his head. "Heine, I understand that whatever he's done must have you truly baffled, as you don't usually come to me for advice, but I can't very well give you any if you're going to continue to hedge around what's really happened."

That damning heat began to creep into the albino's face again, a low growl forming in the back of his throat. Just thinking about it had him on edge again, certain parts of him rebelling against his common sense as he involuntarily relived the moment he'd been spending the past several hours trying to forget. But Bishop was right; if he wanted to understand why everything had blown up in his face, he'd have to out and say it.

"The fucker kissed me," he bit out through clenched teeth, forcing himself to keep from breaking something.

There was a long, uncomfortable, pause as the would-be priest seemed to process the information, the light tapping of Bishop's cane keeping time as the seconds passed. Finally, just as Heine was preparing to leave and write everything off, the older man cleared his throat, forcing the gunman to stay in his now decidedly unpleasant seat.

"You'd said he turned a strategy around you, yes? Does that mean...?"

"Yes," Heine snapped shortly, locking his jaw and knocking one fist against the side of the booth, feeling the wood creak and cave under the blow. So much for making it entirely Badou's fault.

"Ah." Another moment of silence was drawn out, Heine's short, frustrated, breathing nearly deafening as a result. Bishop started once more, carefully, slowly, his concerned frown all but audible in the lack of movement. "And so just why did you come to me for this? What is it that you...need help with?"

Shaking his head roughly, Heine got to his feet and shoved the wooden door open, stepping out of the booth in a flurry of restrained but frustrated gestures. "Forget it. I don't even know why I decided to talk about it."

The hinges of the other door complained quietly as Bishop slipped out as well, the wooden bench he'd been seated on groaning with the loss of his weight. "Heine, wait for a moment would you?" He strategically set his cane between the albino and the hallway, small frown still set in place. "You're avoiding actually confronting the problem. What happened between the two of you?"

Heine snarled irritably, mentally kicking himself for having ever thought this was a good idea. "What do you care?" he shot back sharply, keeping as much malice out of his voice as he could manage.

"Well, first of all, it has you quite noticeably upset. And when you're upset, it upsets Nill." Bishop didn't so much as flinch at the threatening tone, staying quite firmly planted between Heine and the exit. "Secondly, if I were to leave you in this mood, you'd no doubt go out and do something senseless. To yourself, your partner, or some poor, unsuspecting, bystander. And it would be irresponsible of me to let that happen."

Locking his jaw, the gunman forced his shoulders down and let out a long, tense, breath. He didn't feel like getting into it with his older brother. And he certainly didn't want to upset Nill with this either. The girl hardly needed to get dragged into any more of his problems.

"Fine. What did you want me to say?" He stared at the blind man flatly, searching the other's expression for any sign of amusement. The minute Bishop laughed at him for this, he was breaking the asshole's jaw.

The small smile that touched the blond's lips was, thankfully, far from mocking. If anything, it was bordering on relieved. "As I said earlier, I simply need to know what it is you need help with. From what you've told me, I'd think you simply felt as if your plan has failed. But that wouldn't upset you nearly this much, would it?"

Heine sighed and shook his head, muttering about stupid observations and staring off to one side. He wasn't even sure of how to word the actual problem without sounding like an idiot. Though, really, he figured that ship had sailed. Taking a deep breath, he opted to keep it as straightforward as possible: "The moron tried to 'teach me' how to do it and it felt...weird."

"And you're concerned about that? How it felt?" Bishop cocked his head to one side, tapping his fingers in a light, thoughtful, gesture on the top of his cane.

"Yeah. Basically." Shit. He felt like a kid. This was beyond mortifying.

Humming softly, Bishop gestured vaguely in the younger man's direction. "And how, exactly, did 'weird' feel? Aside from the obvious."

That damned color was back in his face, and Heine was grateful – not for the first time – that the other was allegedly blind. Still, he managed to crush what little remained of his dignity and answer the question. "It was...warm. But in a kind of sickening way. It made my stomach knot up and it was hard to breathe."

Bishop chuckled and the smile on the man's face widened noticeably. Before Heine could lash out, however, he held up a placating hand. "I think I know what your problem is. Though I doubt you'll believe me when I tell you."

"Anything's better than the blank I'm drawing," the gunman sighed resignedly. He'd heard plenty of things in his life that he could have gone without. What was one more on a long list?

"I think you may have enjoyed it. And you're here because you're not used to physical affection or anything that comes along with it."

Well...that certainly took the top spot on his list. Sputtering indignantly, Heine shook his head shortly. "Did you hit your fucking head on the way out of that thing?" he scoffed, gesturing violently to the confessional. "I told you it made me sick."

The blind man's smile remained in place, the expression quickly getting on Heine's fraying nerves, as Bishop held his ground. "The symptoms you gave me are very similar to those felt by people experiencing – if you'll forgive my phrasing – 'puppy love'."

That was the last straw. With a short, frustrated, noise, the albino shoved his way past Bishop and all but stormed down the hall. Over his shoulder he added bitterly, "This is why I don't come to you for advice."

The heavy footfalls of his retreat were chased by the quiet sound of the blond chuckling to himself, the echo of it in the all but empty building putting Heine further on edge. He somehow managed to bid Nill something close to a patient farewell before leaving the building, though the girl's smile did nothing to lighten his mood this time around. And he knew, underneath all of his outrage, that she'd only smiled to try and help him. At some point, he'd have to apologize. For the time being, though, he needed to hit something.

How could Bishop have reached that conclusion? The man must have been losing his mind. There was no way in hell Heine had developed anything close to – it pained him to even think the words – 'puppy love' for his partner, even if he had managed to enjoy that damned kiss. And he was more than a little reticent to admit that much. It had been nicer than what he'd tried on the redhead, but it hadn't set off some kind of revelation. All it had really done was make his breath hitch, his heart skip, his body react and...Damn it.

Heine could have screamed.

It was nearly a full eighteen hours before Heine dragged himself out of his apartment again, dressed down from his usual leather attire. He'd been too tired to care, settling for one of the few plain shirts he had on hand and a pair of jeans he'd dug out of his closet. He could still arm himself – though it required a second belt slung around his hips – and that was all that mattered. Not only that, but he was only leaving to find himself something to eat.

On what he knew to be a stupid whim, the gunman opted to head up top for his dinner. Or lunch. He'd long since lost track of the actual time of day. All he knew for sure was that the restaurant, the Buon Viaggio, was a place for a relatively cheap and usually edible meal and it was open most hours of the day. And he'd learned to tolerate the staff for at least the duration of a quick bite to eat.

He was slightly startled when he found the sun at its highest point as he got off of the train, huffing shortly and shading his eyes. Making a note to start carrying some sunglasses on his person, Heine trudged down the street vindictively, brushing through the afternoon crowds without much difficulty. At least the restaurant wasn't far. And, if it wasn't busy, the food would be served quickly too. He'd get in, eat, pay, and get out. And probably hole himself back up in his apartment again until he got a call for work.

Or, as seemed the case as the bell jingled over his head, he could kiss all of his plans goodbye and step into an unwanted and uncomfortable moment that sufficiently ruined his only recently repaired mood.

"Oh...Hey Heine."

"...Badou," Heine nodded shortly, lips pulled into a tight line.

Apparently he'd managed to show up just as Badou was leaving. Which meant all but running face first into the lanky idiot who'd been causing all of the problems in his life for the past day and a half. There was a beat of silence as they stood there, staring at one another, with enough tension to even quiet the other patrons at the restaurant. Not that there were that many; the place was never as busy as it had the potential to be.

The redhead was the one to break the silence, as par the usual. "Where've you been? You left your share of the pay out at my place." The undertone of irritated disappointment was noticeably absent in Badou's voice, and it put Heine on edge. His partner almost seemed concerned. Either that, or he'd honestly gone insane trying to balance what Bishop had told him and what his dignity wanted to believe.

Heine snorted and shook his head, narrowing his eyes in muted suspicion without thinking about it. "What's it matter? You're the one who needs the extra cash."

"Yeah, but I don't need your fucking charity," Badou shot back, crossing his arms in an affronted gesture. "And I know you'll use it against me later. Bitch about how you do more work than me but I get all the money or something."

Tapping one foot in a gesture of irritation, Heine arched a cynical eyebrow. "Yeah? Do you have a solution for it or are you just going to stand there and whine at me?"

Badou scoffed and nodded towards the door. "Let's go. You're coming home with me so I can give you the money you left behind when you bailed on me. Good enough solution for you?"

"Fine. Whatever." Heine rolled his eyes and fell in step behind his partner, figuring he might as well just humor the redhead. At least Badou hadn't made a big deal over the reason he'd bailed. Maybe this wasn't quite as much of a disaster as he'd initially thought it was upon running into the smoker. Maybe he'd get lucky and Badou would have forgotten it even happened and they could just carry on with their lives, such that they were.

They made their way to the redhead's apartment easily enough, Heine following his partner up the stairs the way he'd come the first time. At least he remembered everything here well enough, for all that he'd only been once. It meant that he could find Badou when he needed to. If he needed to, he rather curtly reminded himself.

It took several minutes for Badou to unlock every lock the moron seemed to have on his door, the redhead having a key ring large enough to pass as some kind of security guard's, giving Heine time to just look around. The building wasn't exactly impressive, but it was hardly as bad as he knew some of them could get. At least the floor wasn't peeling and the ceiling stains didn't seem too questionable.

"Hey. You just gonna stare vacantly down the hall or are you actually coming in?"

Badou's voice jarred Heine away from his absentminded observations, causing the gunman to turn and shoot his partner a dirty look.

"If you'll recall, I didn't even want to come in the first place." Heine shook his head and stepped into the other's apartment regardless, watching as Badou locked them back inside. "I'm just here because you won't shut up until you pay me."

"Gross. You make it sound like you're a hooker or something..." The smoker wrinkled his nose and moved to rummage around the various piles of paper and the like crowding one corner of the living room.

The albino was grateful for his partner looking the other way. He could feel a less than dignified heat in his face at the suggestion of his taking the money because of what had happened last time, and he was tempted to kick Badou out the nearest window for making him think as much.

Such plans were put to an abrupt end, however, when the smoker turned around with a short, victorious, noise and an envelope held over his head. "Found it. This should be half of what you came here with last time."

"Great. Now hand it over so I can leave." Heine held his hand out expectantly, keeping his eyes trained on his partner.

Badou rolled his eye and muttered under his breath about impatient dogs, trudging across the room until they were nearly toe-to-toe. "Here. Take it." He held the envelope up between them, his index and middle finger holding the piece of paper upright.

Heine didn't bother answering. He snagged the envelope out of the redhead's hands and shoved it in his coat, turning on his heel to gesture at the door. He didn't know how the hell the locks worked, and he refused to use the window again. As much as it had made for a hasty and appropriate retreat the last time he'd visited, it was far from necessary this time around.

Again, Badou grumbled to himself as he brushed past the gunman, moving to work at the door with obvious practiced ease. However, as the last lock came undone, the chain swinging back and forth on its peg with little more than the occasional metal twang of it hitting the frame, the redhead turned around and sufficiently blocked Heine's exit.

"The hell are you doing now?" he huffed shortly, frowning in an openly unimpressed response to his partner's behavior.

"I need to test something," Badou answered flatly, meeting the look with one of his own. "It'll only take a second."

Heine scoffed and took half a step in, catching the smoker by the front of the shirt. "If it's how long it takes you to piss me off, then yeah. It only takes a second."

The redhead frowned and caught the other man's wrist in his hand, holding the gunman there with relative determination. "I already knew that, thanks. You get pissed off about everything. Now shut up and let me have this."

Wanting little more than to be allowed to leave, Heine sighed heavily and threw Badou a withering glare before giving in. Whatever it was couldn't take long. "Fine. Do whatever you have to do and then let me go."

"Thank you." Badou nodded shortly and tugged the white haired man in closer, startling Heine into standing there stupidly as he pressed his lips to the gunman's.

Heine was at a loss for what to do. This was not what he'd expected the redhead to do, and the sudden change of pace had him doing little more than tensing almost painfully. His hands curled tightly at his sides, his mouth pulled into a tight, defiant, line, as he held firm, something in him convinced that a single flinch would mean losing to Badou. Though the game they were playing was still beyond him. He just refused to give in. No matter how much a small, despicable, part of him wanted to.

After what felt like far too long, Badou stepped back and snorted, shaking his head in what almost looked like disappointment. Heine refused to read into it, refused to acknowledge anything his partner was doing now, focused more on salvaging what was left of his dignity and any coherent thought he could find. Which proved to be very little, but very effective:

"The fuck is wrong with you?"

Lighting up a cigarette and shifting his weight to one leg nonchalantly, as if the gesture really had been nothing, Badou spared Heine a brief glance before huffing out a lungful of smoke. "First of all, now you know how I felt the first time you pulled that shit on me. Secondly, I was just testing something and it failed. So..." He stepped off to one side and gestured to the door. "Eager puppy can leave now."

That was one offense too many. Growling under his breath, Heine pinned Badou to the nearest wall, narrowing his eyes critically as he met one very startled green one. There was no way in hell he'd let his partner get away with that much in one day, much less in one hour. And his newly gathered thoughts, as unhelpful as ever, seemed to think of only one way for him to get even. Without missing a beat, he crushed his lips against the redhead's, earning a short, surprised, noise in return.

An aggressive growl rumbled from Heine's chest as he pressed in closer, one hand moving to catch Badou's before the redhead could touch him with that lit cigarette. The scent of the cancer stick smoldering away while he occupied his partner's mouth was almost intoxicating. And they hardly needed anything catching fire because the other man's hormones were doing more thinking than his brain.

However, as good as it was – something Heine was still fighting with himself over – breathing was still a priority. He pulled back with a short gasp, panting softly and staying close on an instinct he didn't know he had, something in him taking far too much pleasure from the faint heat in Badou's face. The color looked good. It meant that he was winning. Which, he told himself repeatedly, was the reason he was still there. And the reason he was leaning in for more.

The sheer aggression from the first was lessened in the second, Heine's intentions shifting from getting even to taking the lead again. He all but crushed his body against Badou's, one leg pushing its way between the redhead's while his free hand all but scraped paint off the wall. Every passing second had his body enjoying the contact far more than he'd anticipated, every small sound he managed to glean from his partner making it worth that much more to just keep going. Without thinking, he knocked Badou's hand against the wall, jarring the cigarette free from those long fingers before crushing it under heel. They didn't need that distraction anymore. And he wanted to free up both of his hands.

However, the gesture clearly wasn't appreciated by the one on the receiving end. Shoving Heine away as best he could, getting just enough room between them to breathe, Badou did his best to look affronted despite the color in his face.

"Those things...are expensive...you jerk..." he panted irritably, turning his attention away from the gunman just long enough to look at the small mess on the floor. "You owe me...another pack."

Heine rolled his eyes and tugged Badou's hand up and over his partner's head, doing the same with the other one until he could trap both with one of his own. He took near inordinate amounts of joy from the look the movement garnered from the smoker; confused and embarrassed was a good look on the man.

Leaning in close again, he caught Badou's lower lip between his teeth lightly, grinning wickedly at the startled squeak he coaxed from the redhead. "I don't owe you anything," he growled under his breath, fingers curling around his partner's wrists as his free hand pressed firmly against the man's chest. "Now shut up."

Whether it was the situation or the tone of his voice, Heine didn't know. But whatever it was had Badou listening for once and not bitching him out for giving orders. However, as the albino picked up where he'd left off, he was met with a rather startling change of pace. Before he had time to think about it, he found his partner's tongue sliding into his mouth, the bitter pang of tobacco shocking his own tongue for a moment. Apparently Badou had figured that feigning submission could give him an upper hand. The lanky bastard was smarter than Heine gave him credit for.

Struggling with himself for a moment, trying to regain some kind of footing on the situation, the gunman curled the hand on the other's shirt into a tight fist, steadying his grip as he ground his leg up against Badou's crotch. The movement had its desired effect though. A small, whimpered, noise from the redhead gave Heine the chance to take control back, pressing his own tongue past his partner's and scouring the man's mouth. The attempt was, admittedly, a bit of a mess, met with rough pants and short, needy, noises, but he was too far gone to care. He'd known coming into this it would be all trial and error.

The momentum was shifted once again when Badou slung one of his almost ridiculously long legs around Heine's hips, pulling the gunman in closer and rolling against him in shaky, hungry, movements. The friction was surprisingly pleasant, and something Heine was more than willing to contribute to as he ground back against his partner as best he could. It was fairly apparent, at this point, that both of them had lost whatever string of insults had led to this and were both now going on hormonally driven instincts alone. It was more apparent, however, that neither of them really cared anymore either.

Breaking off on a sharp gasp, leaning his head away from Heine's to actually give himself the chance to breathe, Badou panted heavily and fought against the hold the other had on his wrists. "F-Fuck...Heine...My arms are going numb..."

Not exactly the most appealing thing to hear, but the albino was already worked up enough – something Bishop would no doubt laugh about later if the man ever found out – that he couldn't do much more than comply. He wanted his own hand free again anyway. The smoker's bony hips were seeming far more attractive now than they ever had been before, and he made a point of locking his fingers onto them as tightly as he could manage without doing any harm. He had absolutely zero experience, but he figured it wouldn't be hard to puzzle things out. And it wasn't as if he had to be worried about Badou not speaking up if he did something wrong. Or even if he did something right. The redhead was just naturally vocal.

Tugging Badou's hips in against his own, Heine made use of the wall he'd pinned the smoker against to keep them both upright. The low sound of appreciation he earned from his partner told him he was still on the right track as he rolled his body against Badou's, applying his teeth and tongue to his partner's throat as the other was still leaned back away from him to an extent. He couldn't help but take note of just how much he was enjoying the taste of Badou's skin, how his body responded to every gasp and moan that passed those kiss swollen lips. Fuck.

Things had gotten far out of hand, Badou's hands pawing at him as they moved against one another in heated, shameless, motions. Even the usually malicious voice of his spine was starting to encourage him, was whispering dirty things that made him unreasonably hungrier for more. And that hunger was causing him endless frustration with the fact that Badou's shirt was between his mouth and that delectable skin. A problem, he found, that was easily solved with the application of his teeth.

The sound of tearing fabric was startlingly arousing, a low growl forming in the back of Heine's throat as his teeth ripped his partner's shirt along the seam. The redhead was managing breathy complaints and small shows of resistance, all of which were put to a halt by the long, indulgent, slide of the gunman's tongue against the freshly exposed skin. Badou's legs tightened around the albino's hips, the two of them crushed as close together as they could have been as Heine continued to shamelessly, messily, taste every inch he could reach.

His tongue slid over one of his partner's flushed nipples and earned a sharp cry, the smoker's hips jerking up roughly against his own. And Heine couldn't help the broad, predatory grin that spread across his face. He wanted more of that, wanted to see if he could make the other scream for him. Though at this point, he wasn't sure if it was entirely his own desires, or that of himself and the metal monstrosity in his back. Regardless, he deliberately repeated the gesture, groaning thickly as he did, as Badou writhed and whimpered underneath him in an attempt to get more of something. The picture the redhead made, flushed and desperate, was damn near edible. And it was fairly evident that Heine's body not only agreed, but couldn't take too much more of it.

Not wanting to be the one who lost himself first, the gunman worked off of what minimal knowledge he had and forcibly moved one hand from Badou's hips to palm the rather obvious bulge in his partner's pants. The redhead threw his head back, thumping it against the wall behind them as he cried out and arched into the feeling. Heine nearly lost it; there was no way the smoker had any right looking that good.

Huffing shortly, he curled his fingers mindfully around Badou's clearly aching cock, rubbing his palm over the rough fabric of the other's jeans. He'd had to do this to himself several times before, his body not always compliant with his usual state of mind, so he knew with fair precision what he was doing. He made a point of being gentler with his partner than he would have been with himself, having enough of his mind to know that his body was more suited to the abuse. That by no means meant he was necessarily careful. He pressed his palm down with every upstroke, dragging his fingers back down the outside lines of Badou's cock in an intentionally teasing manner. His own length throbbed in its confines with every twitch he could feel in the smoker's, with every breathy moan and lost whimper he drew from the redhead's lips.

What Heine wasn't expecting, however, was how strongly his body would react when he finally got what he wanted from Badou. As the redhead bowed off of the wall at a near ridiculous angle, as the man crushed himself against the gunman on a loud, breathless, cry and shuddered through his release, the albino found himself all but trying to fuck his partner through their pants. His own hips jerked up as he felt the twitch and heat of the other's release under his hand, his mind a flurry of hormones and desperation as he rocked up erratically. It didn't take much more to send his own body over the edge, a sound caught between a growl and Badou's name escaping him as his climax tore through his body with more force than any hail of bullets had before. Fuck that was good. And it took every ounce of remaining strength he had left to keep them upright, though the wall certainly helped.

After several long minutes of heavy panting and clumsy grasping, Badou managed to get his legs back on the floor, though it was still fairly obvious that he was relying on Heine to keep him upright. The smoker's face and chest were flushed, his hair a mess of tangled, sweaty, strands, and his eye-patch was rather clearly stuck. All of it added up to a look Heine rather decidedly enjoyed. Until the moron opened his mouth again.

"Y-You fucking...owe me...a n-new shirt..."

Heine scoffed and shook his head, leaning away from his partner as best he could given the fact that their hands still seemed determine to hold onto one another. That didn't keep him from leveling an unimpressed, if slightly flustered, glare at the redhead. "Y-Your fucking fault...You...You started it..."

Badou grumbled under his breath and shakily pulled one hand away from Heine, groping around on his person until he could dig out a surprisingly in tact cigarette. He lit it up with the same hand, taking a long draw and breathing it out deliberately. "Whiny pup..." the redhead muttered around the cancer stick, directing a very pointed look at the albino.

Shaking his head and prying himself off of and away from the other man, Heine locked his jaw and did his best to keep his feet about him. He was still a little shaken, but he'd managed to find enough dignity again to not stand for that kind of shit. "Fuck off. I'm out of here." He raked a hand through his own sticky, damp, hair and made to leave, glad that he'd managed to lose it so close to the door.

Finding Badou's free hand on his wrist, however, wasn't part of the plan. Nor was getting tugged back and caught up in a loose, if awkward, hug. "Mmn...no..." The smoker shook his head, huffing out another lungful of filthy air past Heine's face. "I figure we're not done yet."