Welcome back! Welcome back! I'm so happy to have you guys here with me today! I also have a special announcement concerning updates! This week, since I'm LITERALLY QUARENTINED FOR 2 WEEKS BECAUSE MY FATHER GOT CORONA AND HE'S AT MY HOUSE, I will be posting twice! One today (Wednesday March 18, 2020) and another on Saturday (March 21, 2020)! I will include the specific update times at the end of the chapter!
To our reviewer XxDNSxx: Yes! I think I understand what you mean with Red's thoughts benefiting the story. I haven't written much about his internal workings or the literal labyrinth of a mind this man seems to have while writing him, but he's a very contradictory person in this AU. This entire chapter is dedicated to Red working through and really delving deep into things he's suppressed. When I write, I don't go off of a real plan or know how things are going to end, but rather let the characters write themselves, as a lot of writers I've seen tend to do, and Red has been so fascinating to me. He often contradicts himself on purpose for a sort of self-protection measure to not get too deeply invested in things when he really is in actuality, and I have to make a flow chart of the things he says and plans because I also feel like his character is a bit of a habitual doubter and sort of goes off the wall and does his own thing on a whim. Unlike Purple, who canonically I think is more of the flighty of the pair, who in this AU likes to sit down to think about things from a logical perspective to the point that he's almost brooding about them and letting them consume him. I feel like once they come into their own and grow, because they're quite young at about 220 something if I remember, they'll be able to balance each other out and maturely work through their issues. Anyway, I won't ramble and I'll let the chapter speak for itself! I hope this is what you were wanting, and I'll try to include more of Red's juicy thoughts in tandem with Purple's! Thank you!
SIDE NOTE: I have no intentions of giving up this fic and I will see it through to the end. I really care about my writing, so you guys don't have to worry about me dropping off or leaving it! :)
Chapter rated strong T for allusions/mention of PTSD, past mentions of sexual abuse, brief light language, promotion of stealing (don't do this ok?), blatant suggestive themes, and general adult content.
This was a…dilemma.
A major dilemma. It shouldn't be, but it definitely was.
Red stared through the darkness, watching as Purple tossed and turned lightly in his sleep before rolling back to face him directly and resting a still soiled palm up on the pillow they had come to share. Beautiful. Did he despise that word after it had been thrown back in his face like a sharp bladed weapon for over two grueling cycles of selective onlookers staring back at him and admiring him like a pet? Maybe. Would he hate it if Red decided to call him that, or would it finally hold a weighted meaning once more? What if he smoothed over his apple cheeks in the morning with a tender thumb as he counted each and every one of the tiny stars in his faint dusting of freckles and opened his mouth to sing it out;
You're beautiful, Purple.
Nah, he was more than just beautiful; he was handsome. Everything from his angular jawline taking a gentle curve up into his rounded cheeks stained vibrant hues as he embarrassedly pulled away and clamped a furious hand over Red's mouth to keep him from coming back in for a second kiss only hours ago. His lips were softer than silk and sweet as hell even when chapped, setting Red's spooch alight with a need to protect him from the outside world and keep him held back from the harrowing dangers of their destroyed mission. They'd laughed a bit when his surprisingly innocent inexperience was met with Red's cycles of experimentation and moving against strange men in alleyways to the boom of foreign music inside the clubs they would mosey their way into, reassuring one another that it wasn't a mistake and that the affection was most definitely wanted and reciprocated no matter how absolutely humiliated Purple felt in the moment. Did he enjoy it? Did he think Red was a good kisser or did he kiss like a Hogulus? Irk, was his breath ok? Red ran a hand up over the gently heaving shoulder of his serenely sleeping friend and tested the faint smell of his pre-morning breath, blinking with a frown and shaking the thought away, not that it mattered in hindsight anyway. How had he come to ever deserve to be in the presence of someone so prestigious and radiantly gorgeous, to connect with him in such a way that they both had and find that he wanted that blisteringly novel feeling in return? Even now, when he was smothered in dry Schloripps goo with mud, Purple was a cloudy dream of a man cast abreeze in his direction and fluttering through his every thought to be caught in his gale force winds and drift away together.
Ah…but that couldn't be, could it?
Underneath the feeling of rocketing towards cloud nine with no return, with every flip of his stomach and butterfly that hitched in his spooch when Purple would snore faintly in his direction, Red remembered something he didn't want to. Something lingering always in the back of his mind that everyone should have seen but he had somehow kept hidden in his need to be calculating and cold in his plans. Ipi herself had cackled over his plot in the heat of their fight, singing out the truth that Purple still hadn't come to terms with but Red depressively understood was fact;
He needed to be Tallest.
This was conflicting, wasn't it? He flicked his long antennae forward and scented at the side of Purple's slumbering face, drinking in each and every tiny noise rumbling up the back of his throat and swirling into the night air as Flicky heaved and snored obliviously underneath the window of their grimy hostel outside. They were both so clueless to the horrors of the world despite feeling their sting in the worst of ways, never once delving beneath the surface to question the true motives of the Universe battering them like a choppy, violent sea. But Red, oh Red…he'd looked into every nook and cranny of Del's life, his personal anguishes and terrors, and everything down to the most minute fraction of his daily schedule. He knew what he ate, what he breathed, what oils he rubbed on his body at night as he reclined in the comforting heat of his bromine bath. He was everything wrong with this world, and he needed to perish in order to bring peace and prosperity to Irk once more.
Del had forever complicated things and gotten under Red's skin to foil his plans for domination he kept enshrouded from the prying antennae of others chittering around him and gossiping about the latest fashions and fake news he had no interest in. Politics had consistently taken the forefront of his mind, driving him to undergo extensive training in the Academy in the ways of political science and analytical warfare so he could one day stand tall and proud and serve the Empire he loved in the pit of his spooch in the ways he knew best. Unfortunately, that plan had fallen through when his evaluations came back in single digits, grade after grade slipping through his fingers no matter how hard he studied and pushed himself to be great. He had to prove to himself that he wasn't sub-par, that he wasn't what the rest of the planet called him and his DNA relatives from the lowest class, poorest Smeetery in the region; fleas.
Fleas.
Ipi had used it and smothered him with it from the beginning, reminding him on the daily when he was called to marry Sen for his looks alone after forging his documents upon his expulsion from the Academy.
Fleas belong with fleas.
Before the Flesh Treaty, Red had no other options other than to pay off a black market seller in a corner booth tucked away from the rest of society to create an immaculately pristine record of his false achievements and graduation so he would be admitted as a foot soldier into the Elite, giving him a chance to pull himself from the dust of pathetic homelessness and choke down his own irreparably wounded pride to serve in one way or another. If he couldn't serve through politics as an advisor to his Tallest that he once looked up to with wide, curious eyes, then he had decided he would undoubtedly serve with blood and spill gushing buckets of the vivid pink liquid into the snow of dastardly Callnowia. He'd been shipped off in the summer, taking deep, languid breaths as his troop deployed from a whizzing Shuuver above the harsh landscape, the crisp snow hitting the soles of his scuffed boots as he was forced to wade through line after line of screaming agony and flesh melting from bone when searing hot plasma was forced against sensitive tendons. He'd lost friends, colleagues, bunk mates, and watched hundreds of Callnowian soldiers choke on their own ashen, gurgling blood as they dropped their weapons and fell to their knees. He'd made it through unscathed and shell-shocked, a shaking visage of the excited tenor he once was reduced to rubble by the toiling terrors and missing glamor of war he'd seen painted in flashing colors over monitors and painted upon courageous recruitment posters. It was at that moment, when he was discharged and brought back to the capitol city of Veloria for the evaluations of Del's hideous Flesh Treaty that he really began to question his Tallest's shady, snake-like motives.
It was the same for the thousands that had been lost to Ipi's bloodletting; stand before the camera and smile before you strip your clothes and fold them neatly to the side, splay yourself, and move on for IQ evaluations from the Control Brains as your PAK was pried open by the dutiful hands of a stout advisor and probed for defects. None of them were told why they had been taken from their everyday occupations, or where they were expected to end up in the heat of the confusion, but each and every one of the tentatively apprehensive violet-eyed citizens was subjected to rigorous questioning by their almighty leaders. Profound, skin-crawling gazes bared down like lead weights against the shoulders of all those present, but when Red was paraded naked onto the magenta stage of his forefather's surviving technological behemoths, he stood tall in the face of adversity and took the brunt of their obnoxiously snide requests.
Turn to the right. Turn to the left. Preen your antennae. Sit. Sit cross-legged. Do you have any scarring? If so where? Have you ever engaged in sexual activity? If so with whom and how long ago? Are you married? What is your occupation? Did you graduate the Academy? With what commendations?
He answered each and every question with vigor, wavering a bit when the Control Brains rooted through his hardware and found that he had ruthlessly lied about his entire existence as a cadet in the Elite, pulling back their snaking, writhing cables and scolding him with booming authority until his antennae had flattened and he hated everything the government was. They had told him he should have remained homeless, that he should have been the victim of a swift death to rid his measly, seemingly pathetic IQ from the public before he harmed someone with his own harrowing stupidity and inability to function in the general vicinity of others. No, this wasn't true. Red had an amazing ability to communicate and power a plasma rifle as he raked through the enemy and destroyed everything they ever loved with his violence before standing resolute and strong through the pools of half melted ice and searing hot, blistering blood leaking away at his boots. His Tallest, Del, had strode forward through the snickering belittling of the fundamentals of Red's intelligence and up onto the main stage to place a gentle hand against his bony shoulder and flash him a kindhearted smile. He had dug his long, claw-tipped fingers into his collarbone and sighed as the Control Brain's fervent chuckling died away to hear what their favorite Tallest of the century was about to say to something so insignificant and wretched, picking up their spiteful laughter when Del opened his sharp teeth and spoke what Red had come to know as the truth.
It's not your fault that you didn't know forging was wrong. Stupid is as stupid does, my boy.
Del must die. Del became the apple of Red's eye as he stared back and felt his fingers twitch aimlessly to ball into fists around the lithe, thin neck of the man who had started this whole mess in the first place. If Del hadn't upped the standards for Academy graduates, he would have passed his final examination and entered into politics. If Del hadn't pulled him off of the front lines, he would have died a hero and no one would have ever known the dark secrets of disturbing homelessness and terrifying black market creeping lingering in his PAK. Del was the problem, stepping on each and every Irken he saw as less than or tiny in the mind purely because some couldn't afford to pursue the Academy, and others couldn't keep up with the bodily torture of the weekly evaluations. If the Control Brains only viewed him as brute strength, then so be it. Red would stand before them once more as a resilient man unlike anything they had ever seen, letting every unfortunate spurt of gooey bad luck roll off of him like singeing bromine and he didn't care how he got back to this stage.
Bloodshed. There would need to be bloodshed.
Political turmoil. Anarchy. Rebellion.
He would pave the way for a revolution and be the hammer of truth that cascaded down against the fragile glass of Del's well-fed, bourgeoisie as the proletariat stomped with thick leather boots over the Irken flag and planted one of their own in bright, blindingly vivid crimson for their new Tallest. Unfortunately, once that happened, Red knew there would be a gap in the system that would create a devastating political backlash and void unlike anything Irk had ever seen or experienced before and, as much as he hated to admit, even if he was pegged to be the next leader of them all, Purple wasn't ready to deal with that in his fragile state. He needed to cope and recover from the physical torture he'd taken into his flawless body and pacify his own demons before taking on the demons of his entire, collective, people, leaving him venerable for assassination in the event that his once glossy claws touched the command chair of the illustrious Massive and headed something so disgustingly heavy and vicious. He was delicate to the touch, like a gorgeous insect unfurling two glassy wings that needed to be nurtured and tended to as if he were the rarest beast in the whole of the unforgiving Universe, cast free in the Green Nebula to live out his days swimming in the serenity he deserved. Red had never been to the Green, but he'd heard stories of it in his time wandering with Tak and his family off of Moo-Ping 10. Apparently a team of scientists had defected from Irk altogether to create their own peace loving society for anyone intellectual enough to aid their cause of finding the ultimate cure to any disease, giving them an edge over any other planet or people as they mixed the very chemical concoctions lingering in the nebula's cloudy innards with their own research, already finding ways to combat even the most severe diseases on Vort and reaching an agreement with the peaceable Vortian King, Pol Krin III, to provide homemade medicine in exchange for food they couldn't grow at their station.
Red tugged lightly away from Purple's slumbering hold and placed his cool hands over his eyes when he felt a headache coming on, all of his thoughts racing and swirling together to form something noxious he didn't want to think about. He could usually swallow down the worry like a dry pill, but this time, now that he had time to rest, he was unable to escape the inevitable. He and Purple would have to part ways in the near future, and it was breaking his cognition into millions of jagged, indistinguishable pieces. He was no good for Purple and he never would be, and he knew that, but still he too had fallen to the temptation of the silent siren's song pouring off of his lips with every word he spoke and step he took. He was descendant of the first Tallest and her perfect DNA pumping into the bloodstream of every Irken hatched in the Veloria Smeetery, a man rarer than diamonds and gold and prized for his eyecolor above anything else, hitching into Red's soul with his wiry fingers and drawing out every inch of blackened hatred festering there like a pus filled sack of malice and desperation. It was what it was, and he had told himself from the beginning of his mission to recover Purple from Del's personal cabinet on the Massive not to get involved, Tak fervently reminding him on late night loops to get in and get out without succumbing to the temptations they both knew lingered beneath the surface.
He couldn't help himself.
Tak was right. She would be so disappointed if she could see him now.
Red couldn't sleep. He needed some space and some time to think without trailing Purple's perfect face with his thoughtful gaze or licking his lips at the thought of being granted access to his once more in the future. They were two different people, a flea and a hound, and Red would only become the itch between his antennae as time went on. He was always the itch. He gingerly slipped free from the mattress and stood as silently as he could as Purple's arms fell limp at his sides, thankful that the floor didn't creek as he padded lightly under the rafters towards the outdated bromine shower in the back room. It was tiny and generally unclean, a thin layer of grime coating the far wall and drawing a disgusted sneer from Red's lips as he tentatively peeled off his undershirt, working against the pearlescent buttons his partner…friend…Purple had toyed with earlier in his mounting nervousness towards their first, blinding kiss. He still couldn't believe it had happened the way it had, leaving his mind reeling more than it usually did and forcing him to consciously remain upright to refrain from swooning in a lovesick mess of liquid admiration, struggling with the shower a few moments before yelping when an icy blast of bromine smacked him in his razed shoulder. He hastily clamped a hand over his mouth and peeked out of the doorless hatch, watching with mounting apprehension as Purple rolled over in his sleep and reached for him, grabbing at the pillow instead and scrunching it up into his tender hold before spreading out like melted butter once more. Ok, that was a close one. He deserved to sleep for once in the past several days, giving Red a chance to collect himself and get clean before his partner….ugh….Purple woke up and decided that being coated in Flicky's dried saliva wasn't a good look.
Red let the bromine heat to something deliciously warm and balmy, working off his dress pants and dropping them around his ankles before finally partaking in the single most scrumptious, beautiful sensation he'd felt since their kiss, purring up into the heat splashing over his cheeks in waves and pacifying his internal struggle for a few moments in favor of a few shudders skipping down his vertebra. Oh, yes. That's where it's at, man. After a few moments more, Red glanced around for anything he could use as a cleanser, blinking when all he was met with was a questionable loofa with a few stray Callnowian scales stuck within the mesh and a bottle of something grey and sticky he didn't recognize the smell of, turning him off to the idea of soap completely as he scrubbed his scarred skin down with his hands. Wow, when it was put in perspective, under the flush of a gentle heated stream, his scars were pretty prominent against his now heat flushed complexion. He'd done most of them himself, dragging knives and plasma torches over his arms and legs in the back room of the same Vortian doctor who had chemically changed his once perfect eye color to something much more common and aggressive to the senses, digging into himself as he gritted his teeth and cried through the agony. Did he have a choice? Ipi and Sen wouldn't recognize him, or so he had thought at the time, if he was destroyed on a physical level, obliterating the only reason they chose him and taking back what little control he had been given in this world despite everything he knew. He was a broken man in the PAK and in the flesh, but he didn't really mind. Maybe? He wasn't sure at this point, running his fingers over every long, spite-filled gash and healed burn with a disturbing numbness hitching in his spooch and drawing him away from the memories of self-inflicted torture under the searing medical light and beady stare of a stout, half blind Vortian he wasn't even sure he could trust. Wow…maybe he really was stupid.
Red quickly finished his shower and stepped free, thankful that the towels in the rack to the side of the sink had at least been washed at some point before burying his face in the deep blue fluff of Plookesian cotton. Did Purple think he was beautiful? He'd caught sight of him when he was dressing himself and stolen his breath away with his obviously curious gape before Red shrouded himself and forced a smile in his embarrassment. He'd played it off as something calm and collected for the sake of his discomfited friend, but he was genuinely curious to know why he wanted to see him in the first place. The only individuals that had ever seen his new form were Tak and Skoodge on the off chance that he accidentally caught him stepping out of the bath, but the idea of his love interest staring him down and running his scrupulous stare over every bit of hatred and self-loathing Red had inflicted upon himself for his own protection made his skin crawl and writhe. Purple didn't mean anything by it, and Red knew that, but it was still…odd.
Odd.
What were they?
Were they friends? Friends with benefits? Boyfriends?
Boyfriends…?
Red hastily dried himself off and slung the towel over the edge of the sink with a tiny smirk, irritated that he couldn't stop it and glancing back once more as he worked his filthy clothing back on. Purple had fervently denied him a second kiss after the bravery he'd taken for the first, refusing to meet his friend's gaze as he held him close and kept him pressed gently to his chest as he curled into his welcome body heat, grumbling a bit to himself but never once pulling away. Geez, the guy was a total enigma, wasn't he? Red could never tell what he wanted or what he didn't, choosing to remain on the safe side of things and respect his needed boundaries until Purple made the first move and grazed his hands over his back and up to rest on his shoulders, teasing innocently at the back of his neck with curious fingers that quickly became stiff when the recollections of trauma surrounding every touch he was forced to give came crashing back down upon him from above. It was almost as if Purple couldn't break through a barrier of sorts, finding himself completely at the mercy of his past and somehow giving over a tiny sliver of that to Red's authoritative, capable hands. It wasn't his fault, and he meant every word of when he said he would wait until he was ready to determine exactly what they were, or where they were going with one another…if anywhere. After all, Purple was going to be admitted into the Green for his bright burning intelligence, and Red would be left behind to remember him only from the light, lingering trace of his sweet natural scent clinging to his clothes.
Geez, why did he trust someone who stole for a living?
Why did he trust someone who was vying for his position as Tallest?
Why did he trust Red at all?
"Red?"
Red jolted when two gentle hands snuck over his shoulders from behind, tracing the length of his long plasma shot etched over his scapula like braille inching into the past, spinning and freezing when he was met with the confused, bewildered stare of the man who had just been dancing through his thoughts. Purple still looked deeply tired and ragged, almost as if he had been drug through the mud…wait. They were drug through the mud by Flicky and her creepy instincts to burrow. He'd lost a considerable amount of weight in the past few days from stress and the demand of the physical eating away at what little bodyfat he was allowed to have under Lire's domineering gaze and controlled portions, leaving him a skeleton of what he once was as he moved to the sink and turned it on to wash at his grubby face. Red felt a twinge of panic hit him as he pulled on his clothes, flinching at how absolutely disgusting they felt against his clean skin and feeling his innate need to protect overtake his wandering thoughts. Purple needed to eat, and he needed to eat now. The rations that they had in place would suffice for the night, but would do little in the long run if Red couldn't get a decent meal in his war-torn body sooner rather than later.
Think.
Red nodded to himself as Purple continued to preen himself in the mirror, unable to really speak in his own half-lucid state of groggy cognition as he rubbed at the plaque buildup on his teeth with a claw, grumbling long and low when he felt dastardly unclean.
"Take a shower, Pur. You smell gross, and the bromine actually feels pretty nice." Red suggested, leaning against the lip of the sink and watching him with mounting concern when he gripped at the edge of the porcelain and admired the long, thin scar blooming over his eye and ruining his perfection. "Treat yourself a bit and get clean, alright?"
"I smell gross?" Purple's voice was hoarse and distant, his obvious exhaustion and lack of nutrition hitting Red where it hurt. "But an hour ago you told me I smelled nice…sorta like home."
Red reached out and placed a hand over his friend's…boyfriend's….Ugh! Whatever they were! "I'm kidding with you, idiot…kind of. You smell nice under all of that nasty spit, and I want to be able to drink in those beautiful pheromones after you're all squeaky clean." He chuckled, trying to make light of the situation when Purple nodded slowly and pulled away to stoically turn on the shower. "Damn, you look like you're coming off of your adrenaline high and crashing. I know what that feels like, and eating something will definitely help with the come down. When you were dragging me here, did you see a town nearby or anything?"
Purple sat down on the lip of the tub, popping the plug and instead deciding to run a soothing bath for a deep, otherworldly relaxing soak. He yawned and thought a moment, dripping an inquisitive finger into the bromine before looking up and meeting Red's concerned expression with a smile. "What are you planning on doing?" He asked simply, giggling a bit when his friend flustered and wrung his hands, snatching his shirt from the floor and hastily buttoning it. "Are you going to go out without me? What kind of guy doesn't take his boyfriend out on the town?"
Boyfriend.
Boyfriend?
B-boyfriend?!
"I-I'm your boyfriend?! You really think…y-you really want…after everything…are we dating?!" Red blurted out before he could stop himself, choking down a slew of obnoxious, forceful questions he hadn't been expecting when Purple jolted a bit and nearly slipped into the bath fully clothed. "S-Sorry! N-No, it's fine! What's fine? What's happening? S-Shit, I'm sorry!"
Purple quickly stood when Red went to leave, embarrassed about his tongue's lack of grace and his inability to form a coherent sentence as wave after wave of heated confusion washed over him. This was so bad…but this was also so good. He wanted this. He wanted it so terribly, but he also knew that dating Purple would only lead to harrowing, disgusting heartbreak for the both of them in the end when they parted ways at the fork in the road, the same horrid names popping up in his mind. Flea. He was a flea. Purple was an aristocrat, a cadet who graduated as an ingenious microbiologist and a soldier with enough strength to overpower an entire army. He'd read his files, scoured his phantomlike past, and drunk in every single word of his glistening evaluation from the Control Brains. They viewed him as a prodigy and a slew of flawless DNA perfectly stitched together to create someone utterly, fantastically impeccable and unflawed in every way imaginable. Even now, when his hands landed back on Red's shoulders and tenderly spun him to meet his height, a thin scar razed over his seamless, unadulterated eyecolor, he was still unspoiled and the vision of true Irken excellence. Did Red deserve that? Did Purple deserve more? Too many questions…not enough answers.
"Hey, look at me, Red. Please?" His voice was uncomfortable and shaky, any resounding power from their previous encounters with Ipi dissolving to the air and leaving behind the affection starved shell of a man Red was struggling to face. "I said look at me."
Red labored to meet his gaze, snapping up and swallowing thickly when he realized Purple was doing the same, peeling away as soon as crimson touched lavender but taking his hands instead. "Listen, I said I was f-fine with waiting for you so if this is too unsettling or fast, then you don't have to call me your-"
Purple silenced him by holding up a finger, taking a reassuring exhale and leaning back to peek in on the bath and make sure that it wasn't overflowing. "But I…I-I want to call you that because that's what you are." He whispered, his grip tightening. "It's just…well…I've never had a boyfriend and the word is so different for me to say because I never got the chance to call anyone that. That's what you become when you kiss, right? B-Boyfriends?"
Red didn't know what to say, sputtering something inbetween an ecstatic, overly excited 'yes,' and a terrified 'why the hell do you think I'm hot,' rolling the two very conflicting statements together and making Purple far more confused than he was anticipating. He took a moment to collect himself, shifting awkwardly on his feet and exhaling long and low in an attempt to bring himself down from the bewildering, wholly perplexing state of utter euphoria pounding through his bloodstream and making him almost sick to his stomach. Purple, the man he'd stalked for six months and watched from the shadows, the man he'd craved above all others and the dream manifested before him to graze his knuckles with his thumb as he waited patiently for his reply was his boyfriend. They would still need to take things slow, but at least now…at least now they had a start.
Hopefully.
"Ah…s-sorry you just caught me off guard is all!" Red finally piped up with a wide grin, feeling himself melt a bit as his pulse rang in his overstimulated antennae. "Um…y-yeah! I-I'll be your boyfriend!" He giggled anxiously, pulling away when Purple followed suit.
"Really?"
"Yeah!"
"R-Really, really?"
"Eh…yeah?"
"You're sure you want someone like me?"
"Pur, who wouldn't want someone like you?"
Purple quickly smacked his hands over his bright pink face and spoke rapidly through his fingers, his breath escalating before he promptly turned on his heel and rushed off towards the bathroom to shut off the liquid, rust-colored bromine that would become a soothing sanctuary for his delightfully disturbed nerves. "O-Ok! To answer your question, we're already in a town. This place looks like it's at the edge of a rural village or something, and if I'm right about what you're going to do, then there's a store not two hundred feet or so from the hostel." There was a quick silence before his erratic tone wafted forward once more. "I…just don't be gone too long, ok?"
Red nodded with a smile, quickly realizing his partner couldn't see him before vocally calling back. "Yeah, yeah, I'm just gonna go get us some food and maybe some clean clothes if they have them. We need to blend in and find a ship after we eat so we can make it back to Irk and confront Del. Let's face it, Pur, we're not getting anywhere here on Callnowia with Ipi and Sen, and she pointed out to me that Del was her whole world. I'm betting if we can take him out, somehow, then we'll be able to bring Ipi down to her knees and stop this mess from ever happening."
Silence.
"Purple?"
Nothing.
Red playfully rolled his eyes, slipping his feet into his now half-annihilated dress shoes and taking off towards the door. He would need to be quick before daylight crested once more and he was recognized out in the town, giving him an edge in the darkness to do what he did best;
Steal.
It didn't take long for Red to slip by the vacant front desk of the sub-par hostel they'd managed to stumble upon, creeping past Flicky's gargantuan, slumbering body as she gently hissed and twitched into the snow around her, pressing her gelatinous form up against the windowpane of their room to ensure Purple was kept in good feelers. He trusted her vivacious appetite to ward off any potential intruders, and Purple was keen enough to keep away anyone or thing that could possibly lay a hand on him. Besides, he was right about the store being close by and he'd be able to keep an eye out for anything suspicious.
Red trudged through the snow, resorting to his PAK legs to suspend him above the frozen wasteland and destroy the presence of his footprints that would lead the authorities to their location after he raided the tiny, pathetic excuse for a shop on the outskirts of what seemed to be a pretty, quaint town filled with farmers and children harvesting snowy, frozen vegetables and berries in the cold. The stop itself was rugged and poorly tended with a hatch held closed with a simple chain lock and no perceivable external security systems from what Red could see once he flicked on his ocular lenses. He stopped in his tracks and struggled against the howling wind, squinting and evaluating the store from every angle as he spun the petite layout in his mind's eye and quickly calculated the floorspace based on past experience. It looked to be roughly three hundred or so square feet of aisles packed to the brim with essentials; food rations, sugar, baking supplies, toiletries, and the like. He would need to sneak in the back hatch to avoid being caught by any passersby making their rounds from their usual foottraffic he'd spotted in the embankment, his antennae hard at work as he barreled his way across the final ridge he needed to scale to press against the hideously rusted outer paneling of the titanium convenience store, keeping his face down as he crept along the side and towards the back. His antennae buzzed with excitement at the prospect of stealing once more, every tendon in his body preparing to sprint and spring into deadly action should he be caught by someone who shouldn't have seen him in the first place. He was a predator, a virtuoso of the illegal undermining the system of stuffy rules and regulations he despised and loathed with every single shred of morality in his being, forcing him onwards on silent extensions to extend a long finger through the crack in the hatch and fumble to slide the chain free from the lock. This was for every time he'd felt like he was unworthy, for every time the collective Empires of their bizarre, inirken starsystem decided to throw him a new curveball and stuff him into a box he could never seem to fit. He was the darkness and the light rolled into one, he was the Robin Hood of justice that would rake over every smug face of every despicably nauseating advisor and officer waltzing the Massive as he thought, filling their spooches with opulent sugar and greasy fast foods that he didn't have enough funds to afford without taking.
Taking.
Red was here to take in order to give.
He had to get Purple something to eat so they could get back on track towards the Green. He needed to drop him off and get him out of the mess they'd failed at together before he went after Del to sever his traitorous spine from his unworthy flesh. Blood transfusions and immortality or not, no one could function if they were in two gory halves, right? If he was able to prove to the rest of the Empire that their Tallest had been lying to them and kidnapping thousands upon thousands of innocent souls for use as experimental bloodbags, then maybe they could turn this downward spiral of archaic, sickening thought around and finally make a name for the Irken people. They wouldn't have to rely on Callnowia or bend to the howling wills of a Prime Minister well past her expiration date, no…they would be a formidable force to be reckoned with that would blaze through the Universe and devour everything in it's wake like an overdue disease.
Was he being too fanatical?
Red thought a few seconds, forgetting his maniacal ramblings and popping free the hatch as it creaked open with the brutal winds, crashing against a nearby shelf as he skittered forward in a panic and wrangled against nature to shut it once more. Freezing flakes of hydrogen slammed back against his raw face as he scrambled for the latch, throwing it in place and slumping forward to rest his forehead against the frigid metal. Irk, so much for a quiet entry. Dammit. Maybe he'd lost a bit of his touch as a thief after the grueling six month's he'd spent in the gravity controlled prison of the Massive, finding himself thrust unexpectedly into the limelight as a pretentious, snobbish officer unlike many others chatting and lazing about around him. If Tak could see him now, she'd laugh in his face and tell him to hang back so she could creep about like the catlike menace she was, slipping free candy bars under the noses of shopkeepers and using her stunning charm and radiant beauty to earn free cans of soup and halves of pity sandwiches. Tak…oh, Tak. Would she truly be disappointed, or would she be happy with how long he'd managed to survive on his own without her? Would she be angry that he had fallen for a man and kept pushing her memory from his mind to protect himself from the gruesome imagery of her last moments? It wasn't fair. He knew it wasn't fair to try and forget everything she was and the lilting sound of her thunderous voice, but he couldn't bring himself to slog out of the numbness he felt towards the collective deaths of Lavender Fire.
He wasn't ready, and he never would be. So, for now, they had become memories stored in the innermost caverns of Red's desolate mind for evaluation when he was someday strong enough to handle what he'd indirectly caused.
He shuddered in repulsed sickness and squeezed his eyes shut, mumbling something under his breath like a mantra to keep himself on track and unhealthily suppress the pain and gruesome displays of leaking blood flooding to the snow as his home burned and crackled under the warping heat of a fire his ex-fiancé had caused. He had to remember that he was here in the future and, even if the past was still fresh and festering, it was just that…the past. He finally let his eyes flutter back open, adjusting to the comforting darkness and taking a cautious step forward when he lowered down from his mechanical extensions and let his night vision take over. There wasn't much here in the ways of monetary value, but the selection of food was mouthwateringly decent, snack cakes and instant lunches dotting surprisingly polished, well-stocked shelves and scattered between bags of crispy, crunchy chips and pretzels. In the back corner was a tiny rounder with a few sundries and a small basket of winter goggles to keep sensitive eyes free from the chipper perpetual winter blazing around them outside. A sudden gust of vicious wind careened against the outside wall, shaking the foundations of the shack as Red explored further, grinning wildly when he noticed someone had left a canvas backpack behind the counter, presumably the owner's, and grabbing for it to dump the meager contents of crumpled receipts and chapstick to the floor. Score! He began shooting down each and every aisle, scooping up handfuls of instant noodles and frozen burritos from the busted freezer in the back before slowing and becoming a bit more selective with his options. Purple seemed like the kind of guy to enjoy sweets and sugary, tooth-rotting nonsense, something he'd observed in his time trailing him from the gloom and urging him to snatch a few packages of fruity hard candies he could suck on in his leisure followed by a few handfuls of colorful, vivid lollipops. Then came the drinks and bottles, a whole two liter of fizzy soda slipped down alongside the rest of his pilfered goods followed by a package of instant, musky tea laden with enough caffeine to keep them both up for days. They'd probably need it in their tandem, stress-induced fugue state until they could find some semblance of true, serene calm, Red snatching a second box for good measure before evaluating what'd he'd stolen so far and taking stock in his mind of anything else they could possibly need. He'd grabbed enough food to sustain them both for just under two weeks if they rationed and eventually ditched Flicky and her sugar cravings. No, they wouldn't need to leave her behind because she could search for her own food underground, something Red decided to take note of before scooting along towards the back to evaluate the pathetic excuse for a clothing section. They both needed to get out of their recognizable attire, something he planned on selling for money later but at the moment they were obviously pinned for slaughter by Ipi and her expensive taste, standing out like wide-eyed prey in the snowy pillows that would be their coffins should they be caught. He ran his hands over the thermal jackets, grumbling when there was one in black and one in bright, horrendously gag worthy pink but snatching them both up for safe keeping just in case along with a package of, thankfully, clean underwear they could share.
After expertly rolling some fuzzy leggings and black woven hats and struggling to stuff them in the overflowing mess he'd concocted, Red moved off to the final aisle of the shop to steal away some creature comforts that would bring back some normalcy to their lives. Two pairs of hiking boots, an aluminum emergency blanket, two plastic toothbrushes and a tube of Callnowian-safe toothpaste, whatever the hell that meant, and a slew of medications designed to treat a variety of illnesses and diseases they could potentially contract this far out in the snow. He sighed, groaning under the weight of the contents digging into his PAK as he reached for a bar of locally made soap, doing a double take when something unexpected caught his eye and freezing in mid grab when a sudden, disastrously unexpected thought took over his youthful instincts. Eh…huh. Why did these have to show up and why was he thinking so seriously about stealing some?
Condoms.
Red shoved the soap in the worn mesh side pocket of his new backpack and clicked his teeth a few times, placing his hands on his hips and squinting down to the row of embarrassing, painfully obvious protections he'd neglected to think about for a few key reasons. Number one; should he be thinking about this? Number two; why was he thinking about this? Purple would surely want him to be…nah. He'd been through so much sexually that Red didn't want to push his luck by making an advance that was received negatively or tossed him back into a terrifyingly venerable state in which he felt he couldn't escape or be safe. Purple's PTSD was a very sensitive subject that he hadn't talked about but was obviously there, presenting itself when he would withdraw and panic or clamp his hands over Red's mouth to keep him from moving forward. He could see it in his eyes as a deep, guttural, bottomless horror and disturbed unraveling that he couldn't stop no matter how much he claimed he wanted Red to kiss him to begin with and now that Purple wanted to be his boyfriend, things were only going to get more complicated in the best and worst of ways. Red would have to push his patience to the limits and allow him to grow and nurture his own budding feelings on his own terms without scaring him away with quick pecks to the cheek or shuffling far too close for comfort over wherever they would end up sleeping. He was ready, but also aware that this would end.
This would end.
Should he enjoy it as much as possible and quit worrying? Should he?
Red brought a claw to his mouth and chewed incessantly, kneeling down and nearly tumbling back at the weight of his supplies tipping him dangerously on his heels when he grazed over his selection once more with passive, humiliated interest. These were made for Callnowians and none of these brands looked vaguely universal in the slightest. From the look of the shape and texture, Callnowian intimates were strange and coiled, something he hadn't been expecting as he plucked a few from the shelves and compared the differing latex contents and supplemental lubrication before flustering and quickly shoving them back once more to rub his hands over his weary eyes with a mortified groan. Why? Why was he doing this? Was he some kind of sick pervert?! Maybe he was just tired…m-maybe he was just delusional from the lingering Schloripps venom slowly dissolving away in his vascular system. He would never force Purple to engage in anything he didn't want to and was completely content with taking things at a snail's pace for his own excruciatingly important comfort, but part of him kept screaming on a ferocious loop that he needed to be prepared in the event that anything…well…personal came of their time together. Purple was most likely clean, seeing as how his advisor had taken special precautions to keep their one-sided affair under wraps and keep anyone else out of his pants with the threat of death, but Red…Shit.
Red probably wasn't.
He wondered if Ipi saw it in the blood she had taken mere hours before, undoubtedly laughing at the perverse, bizarre filth floating through his system and pegging him as less than what he already perceived himself to be. A pang of dread ran through him when he raced through every PAK memory he had of the multitude of secret partner's he'd payed to relieve his frustrations in the smoke-filled, glittery back rooms of Vortian clubs or the times he'd meet a sub-par Irken man at the bar when Tak would venture off to sleep back at the ship, clueless that her then partner was engaging in risky, desperate wishes for affection and intimacy in dark alleyways. It was shameful, and he had quickly stepped away from that path when one of he stared down at a kindhearted male Irken who'd gotten so drunk he could hardly see straight, realizing he didn't even know this man's name or origin and panicking as he gathered his clothes and scolded himself for becoming so careless with what he thought was only experimentation at the time. Sex was prominent in their culture, but it had never been wholly satisfying to Red's soul…something was always missing. Huh. That was something he and Purple had in common.
He glanced back up between his fingers and stared at his shoes for a long second and battling with himself internally as his mind ricocheted back and forth between his options before grabbing for the least bizarre box he could find and hiding it away in his PAK. He lingered a moment and rubbed at the back of his neck before also taking the inconspicuous, self blood test he would need to test his purity before engaging in any form of intimacy with someone so beautiful, hastily tossing it in his internal compartment before standing and willing the shamed sting in his cheeks to die down and return to a viable color, only intensifying when another thought broke through his misty cognition.
Would it feel good for him? For Purple?
Maybe Red could show him what it felt like to be absolutely safe and venerable in a way that didn't make him an object, but rather a completely equal partner there to have fun and enjoy himself to his fullest. Maybe he would let him worship his body with nourishing kisses and calloused hands muttering silent compliments to the sheer ethereal grace they had never thought they would receive the opportunity to touch. Maybe, just maybe, if it ever happened, the hollow, tear-streaked whimpers that plagued Red's nightmares and his deepest fears would turn to something filled with flushed giggles and pleasure filled sighs as they discovered each other in the security of each other's hold. What would he smell like? Would he secrete mating pheromones that would intoxicate Red beyond his wildest imagination? Would his boyfriend moan his name when he…w-when he…?
Ah…a-ah?!
Red choked on his own tongue and sputtered, going for the door and away from the strange magic lingering in the store and keeping him tethered to such risqué, unwarranted thoughts. Irk, they had just entered a relationship less than an hour ago and he was already cycles down the line towards a future he wasn't even sure they would have?! Get a grip on reality, Red! You're different than the other men who vied after him but you can't let him know that…that you also want to feel him. He'd run. He'd run so far too soon and Red wasn't ready to lose what they'd started quite yet.
He would protect him and love him no matter what they decided to do or not do in the future, and give him a chance to feel normal for once.
Okie dokie! This chapter is a tiny bit shorter purely because I will be posting a second update, like I said in my notes above at the beginning of the chapter, and I will be updating on;
Saturday, March 21, 2020 at 10:00 pm CDT (UTC-5)! Thank you guys and stay safe in these dangerous times! I love you!
