Whereas he was actively avoiding Gallagher for the time being, Gil was… hovering. Incessantly.
(During instances like this, Kain really regretted 'dating' a coworker.)
The lawyer seemed to take great pleasure in making Kain vaguely uncomfortable via groping in stairwells and random quickies in broom closets whenever they crossed paths in the Headquarters, which only started to become more frequent as days passed without him giving an actual response to the updated contract that was currently burning a hole through his mattress.
After yet another incident during his precious lunch break, Kain finally decided to take matters into his own hands while zipping up his trousers.
"I'm not gonna bother signin' the contract. We're done, Gil. Stop botherin' me fo' fucks sake."
"C'mon, babe. Y'need more money? Fancy dinner dates? A bigger bed?" Gil did a very good impression of a spoiled child whining for the return of his favorite toy.
"No. Just leave me 'lone." Kain shoved the man back a few good inches, ran a hand through his hair to ineffectually fix the mess, and then stormed out of the bathroom stall to wash his hands at the sink.
Without looking up from his hands, Kain stiffened when Gallagher came in through the door, looking badly hungover and ticked off.
"Fuckface." Gallagher sneered at Bran. "Get roll over and die in a ditch somewhere."
"Shitstain." Bran sneered right back him. "I hope you roll over in your sleep and suffocate."
Kain scrubbed his soapy hands harder. Just one good day, honestly, that was all he was asking for…
"Go choke on a dick, you two-bit lawyer." Gallagher was practically up on his toes now, nearly nose-to-nose to the other man and bristling like a wild animal.
"Oh, someone's choking on my dick and lovin' it, alright." Bran smirked and reached over to pull down the back of Kain's shirt, exposing purpling bite marks and fresh scratches.
"What the–" Stumbling back, Kain froze when he saw Gallagher staring blankly at him from the reflection of the mirror. "Bran, that's against the fu–"
"There ain't a contract anymore. I can do whatever the hell I want." Bran waved a dismissive hand and strolled past a shell-shocked Gallagher and right out of the restroom without another word.
"It's not… well..." Kain stammered and then just gave up, hanging his head.
"You're sleepin' with the enemy?" Gallagher's usual snark was missing, his voice relatively quiet and hurt beyond belief.
"I'm not gonna do this wit' you, not right now and not in a fuckin' restroom at the workplace." Kain scrubbed his hand through his hair and tried to edge past Gallagher.
Kain's back hit the door to the restroom with a thud.
"YOU WERE SLEEPIN' WITH GIL?! Why the HELL didn't I KNOW?!" Gallagher's fist slammed onto the door, missing the side of Kain's face by a quarter of an inch.
"If you bothered to look at me once in a while, you would've. What we had was strictly business." The expression of Kain's face closed off into cold neutrality.
"But HIM? Of all the fuckin' people in this city, why did you pick HIM?!" Gallagher was right up into his face, snarling in rage.
"Because the one I want is a drunken piece of shit that's so fuckin' blind it's a miracle he can get his head out of his ass once a month!" And that was just the tip of the iceberg of his problems, too.
"Who is it?! I'm gonna fuckin' beat the snot outta–"
"IT'S YOU, YOU FUCKIN' MORON! I've been in love with YOU for ALMOST A FUCKIN' DECADE! For fuck's sake!"
Gallagher's face flushed and he took a step back. His mouth opened, but for once nothing came out.
Kain took the opportunity to wrestle open the door and flee from the absolute wreck that had taken over his life.
"Gimmie another."
Caryl warily eyed the poor man at the counter. It was nearing 2 in the morning and all of her patrons had long since left, except for the miserable sack of gloom slumped on the barstool in the corner of the bar.
"Bar's closing. Pay your tab and get the hell outta here." Caryl set down one last pale ale in front of the man before starting to clear away the dried glasses behind the counter.
"That how you treat all your vets 'round here?"
"No, just the ones that keep coming around looking like they've got one foot through death's door."
Kain chugged down the beer, slapped down a few bills, shoved the crumpled up receipt into his wallet, and then staggered to his feet. He almost fell over getting the door open, but he made it through without further embarrassment. The cold air helped with his inebriation, somewhat. He dragged out a cigarette and lit up, leaning tiredly against a flickering lamp post.
"Oi! I've been lookin' all over the Goddess-damned place for your sorry ass!"
Kain closed his eyes and sighed the best he could with a lit cigarette between his teeth. "What now, G?"
"You're done with your three-day bender? Good. Get in the fuckin' car."
Kain, despite his initial reluctance, flicked away his cigarette and slid into the passenger seat. Turning his body away from the driver, he leaned his head against the window, the cold glass blissful against the pounding in his head, and closed his eyes.
He was asleep in seconds.
