Title: Puppy Food
Author: Daisy
Fandom: Mad Max: Fury Road
Setting: Citadel
Pairing: Nux/Slit
Characters: Nux, Slit, The Organic Mechanic
Genre: Romance/Humor
Rating: T for swearing
Chapters: 1/1
Word Count: 1276
Type of Work: Drabble
Status: Complete
Warnings: Pre-Canon, Established Relationship, Gay, Slash, Yaoi, Doting Nux, Disgruntled Slit, Headcanon - War Pups
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Summary Slit couldn't stand having to stay in bed for so long, already, and then Nux had to start doing that.
AN: I had this idea a few days ago, and finally decided to write it up. xD I doubt it will be very long, but I intend on making some cuteness for this pairing. I can't get enough of my precious, violent, perfect, sinnamon bun sons. Sooo, expect lots.
Also, the headcanon implied here is that War Pups are fed something a bit like oatmeal or malt-o-meal breakfasts. It has things to help them build immunities to a wide arrange of things, possibly something similar to protein powder to help them make it into teenhood. I imagine it also has trace amounts of Mother's Milk, if only to help the boys stay alive long enough to become full-fledged War Boys.
Puppy Food ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
There was something strange about waking up with tubes and needles shoved inside of you, from your face nearly to your hips. Even Slit, who was nothing but shiny, chrome badass, had to admit that he didn't feel quite so great at the moment. No recollection of what landed here seemed to come to him, even after a week of being awake and alive and in more pain than he'd ever witnessed before. The Organic had told him that, not only had he nearly lost all of his organs in his stomach, but he'd gotten real sick from the rust on the spikes of the Buzzard's car that ran him through. At first, he'd tried to laugh it off, but that had lead to an unhealthy amount of blood being coughed from his lungs, so he had had little choice but to rest.
By the sixth hour of being awake, however, it was starting to wear on him. Slit had the worst time staying still, most of the time, always having to be doing something, lest he lose his mind. It started with idle tapping, fingers feeling over the tubes and sharp edges keeping him alive, the occasional swivel of his foot, or press of his tongue to the insides of his scarred cheeks. Fifteen minutes after it started, it stopped too abruptly; only for the Organic Mechanic to realize that his most grievously injured War Boy, at the moment, was trying to get up and walk it off.
"Sit your ass back down, Boy." He snapped, not in the mood to deal with insubordination right now, "You're too sick and hurt to even piss by yourself, let alone do whatever crazy stunt you got in your head." Of course, this earned him a few grunts of displeasure before he straight-up sneered at the pasty man with fading war clay and grease, "Don't make me call your partner in here. He's been pitching a bitch fit for the last week you've been checked out."
That made him still in his tracks; because he'd been out for a week, or because Nux was freaking out at his absence, even Slit was uncertain. Still, standing beside the threadbare cot he was supposed to be laying on, he didn't move, for once, trying to discern what would be worse. After all, his driver knew him better than anyone, knew that laying down and not moving for just another second would put him in the madhouse. On the other hand, if Nux put his foot down and told him to stay in the bed so he wouldn't become useless or bleed out or something, he'd be stuck and that would leave him murderous and bed-ridden.
Either way, it looked like a lose-lose situation, and the longer he stood there debating it, the weaker his knees grew. Sitting down, finally, to avoid looking like a wobbly pup, he sighed a little and rest his head in his hands. He'd need to redo his clay… This was just too much.
At least, that was what he had thought about the two weeks he had been required to stay in the medbay. When he'd finally been able to move back to his bunk, though still banished from activity for bedrest, he ended up staying in Nux's bed. Being the bottom bunk, it was easier to get in and out of, and there was always a warm body ready to invade his personal space and annoy him further with too much chatter and not enough violent punches.
"Nuts, I'm going to kill you." The growl came out fairly easy, like he didn't even have to think about it. Probably because he'd said the same thing six or maybe nine times, already, today, as Nux lay with him in bed, Slit's head propped on his shoulder and a story pouring forth from the younger's lips.
"I know, I know." Came the soothing response, and the driver sat up slightly, careful not to jostle the other too much, "Maybe you'll feel better if you eat. I brought you something."
Scenting the air, a confused Slit came up empty; there was no smell of roasted hedgehog, or the terrified scrape of a lizard's claws inside a box… In fact, there didn't seem to be any sort of smells that he remembered, sounds that would indicate breakfast… And that was when his drive, his bastard of a lover, pulled up a clay bowl full of War Pup mush. It was tinted somewhere between a grotesque green and a vomit-inducing off-white, and the smell was not something he had been willing to remember from those days that seemed so long ago.
"Do I look like a pathetic little pup to you?!" The roar was not necessarily unprecedented, as Nux didn't even flinch, just gave that obscenely innocent smile, made those impossibly blue eyes as large as possible, and offered a soft sigh.
"The Organic said you needed something that would make you chrome again… The Pup's food builds up immunities and has lots of stuff that'll make you better faster." Sometimes, Slit wondered if this innocence and blundering, endearing stupidity was a mask or if the driver really was this daft.
"So… You brought me puppy food. I'm a big dog, now, Nux." If nothing else, that growl proved it; he hardly sounded like a pup anymore. Just looking at him, one could tell he hadn't been there in a long time. Most who saw him would guess he was rather close to the end of his half-life; but when Nux looked at Slit, it was like he was staring at his own personal War Rig. Shiny chrome staples in his cheeks and on his belly, thick muscles, and a kamakrazee warlust that could never be quenched… What wasn't there to love? After a moment of watching the younger man watch him, however, the stir-crazy War Boy surged forward, crashing their skulls together, either as a punishment or a way to relieve the pressure that built up after not getting to do much, even he wasn't sure which. This seemed to have some unforeseen consequences, of course.
Nux, for one, ended up on the floor, having been knocked from the bunk, and as he looked up, there was nothing he could do to stop the next thing from happening. The bowl of Pup Mush seemed to fly, slow, for a split second before landing hard on his stomach, knocking the wind from him even as he felt the somewhat warm, flavorless guck trail down his sides and stain his pants. For a moment, the two just stared at each other, taking turns staring at the mess, before Slit barked out a gruff laugh that soon dissolved into something so natural it gave the rock around them profound, stark jealousy. It didn't take long before they were both nearly in tears, even with the looming knowledge that they'd have to clean it up, somehow.
Slit was the first to move, crawling down over the crags in the rock until he was half on the bed and half hovering over his driver, a wicked grin on his features. The bowl was the first thing to go, followed by the wooden spoon that was far too large for most of the Pups, tossed to the side like they were of no consequence.
"I guess I'll eat it, numb nuts." He muttered into the younger man's hip, nibbling there a moment, loving the thick exhale it caused, "Better than wasting it all." And, at least, now he had a decent plate.
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