Chapter: 008/100
Word Count: 258
Pairings: Nux/Slit
Characters: Nux, Slit,
Warnings: Gay, Slash, Yaoi, Blood Bags (Mad Max),
Chapter Summary: 008. "Take My Seat."; Nux needs it more than Slit did, anyway.
AN: So, I haven't updated this for a while, now. Figured I owed you guys a few updates. I plan on getting three chapters up today, and then working on this more over the next few weeks. These might be shorter, I'm going to just let them go however they want to be written.
Chapter Eight: Oil Change ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It had been a sad day, when Nux had gotten sick. Even the Organic had been surprised when Larry started to grow in. Everyone bemoaned the shame it was that their best driver, the Blackthumb that could one day drive the War Rig, at this rate, had turned out to be an almost-dead Half-Life like the rest of them. Still, aside from the Boy in question, nobody took it as hard as Slit had.
He'd been getting his own tank refilled, some sorry bloodbag listening quietly as he grouse, when Nux, running on empty, had stumbled over. He fell to his knees and elbows a right mess, before his lance, who would have joked had the thinner man not looked up so pitifully. Instead, he looked around, surveyed the witnesses, and available space, before he decided to act. Standing and yanking his own needle from his arm, he let it bleed as he pulled his partner to his feet, manhandling him into his old spot. Hazy blue eyes looked up, a question on his furrowed brow, but Slit silence him with a slant to his eyes.
"Here, Numb Nuts, take my seat. Don't look like I need an oil change half as bad as you do." He offered, and as a clammy, shaking hand took his, he sat with the other, shocked into silence, himself.
"Thanks, Slit." The near-dead War Boy whispered, only earning a grun in return.
"Don't mention it, Nuts." He'd never admit to maybe stroking the younger's bald head as it hit against his chest.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ AN:
