Macavity looked around Doc's, letting the door fall shut behind him. "That Cor of mine around here somewhere?"
"He's running a delivery, he'll be back any minute."
"Good," Macavity declared, plopping himself down on the table nearest the door. Coricopat arrived about three minutes later, pausing when he saw Mac. "Cor," Macavity greeted, as he pulled out a battered pack of cigarettes, lighting one of them.
"Hello, Mac." He handed the payment to Doc, before turning back to Macavity, "What do you need?"
"Well, there's that small matter of the Shark's brother," Macavity drawled, eyes straying toward Doc again.
"What about him?"
Macavity gave him a long look. "What do you think about him?"
"What do you mean what do I think about him?"
"Well, there's two ways that can go. What do you generally think of him, followed by what the hell do you think I'm asking you about him?"
"I...I think he's a nice enough guy. What I really think about him doesn't matter much..."
"It doesn't?" Macavity asked, cigarette smoke floating in front of his face.
"Well, why would it?" Coricopat shrugged.
"Because you seem to be the one running around kissing strangers?"
"Well, he's nice. Does it really matter what he looks like? What he talks like?"
"Nice is such a safe little word, Cor. Don't you think anything else of him?" Mac asked, arching a brow. Honestly, if he was going to start kissing strangers he'd be sure they were a bit more than just nice.
"What does it matter?"
"I don't know, if you're going to do the whole star crossed lover thing I'd sorta like a warning."
"I..." Coricopat drew a deep breath, "I think I might be falling in love."
Macavity's look was far from impressed. "You think you might?" he asked. It was a pattern they'd long since fallen into since they were kids, Coricopat hedging and Mac not allowing him. It almost didn't register that the other had admitted love because all Mac noticed was the hedging. When it did his eyes widened and he almost dropped the cigarette, clamping his teeth down on it.
"What? Fine, yes, I am. I'm in love with him, and really Mac is that such a bad thing?"
"Well, aside from the afore mentioned star crossed lovers bit? Didn't you get over that after reading fuckin' Shakespeare? Besides that, the fact that he's the shark's leader's brother is a bit of an issue. In the way of I'd like you not dead."
"Why are we still fighting with them anyhow? Why were we fighting with them in the first place?" Coricopat countered.
"Hell if I know," Mac shrugged. "I think it has something to do with them trying to take what's ours though."
"They need a place to live. A place to stay, Mac."
Macavity scowled. "Sure, and they can live where they like so long as they stay the hell away from what's mine."
"Where are they supposed to go, Mac? Is this really worth all our lives?"
Mac just shook his head slightly. "Look, what's gotten into you? This used to not bother you so much. Were you seeing this kid for like months or something and I'm only now hearing about it or what?"
"No. I met him at the dance. But I told you I don't want this life anymore, Mac."
"Then what do you want?" Macavity demanded. "What can you have?"
"I don't want to look over my shoulder all the time. I'd...I'd like a job that lasts, maybe my own place. For life and for work. Maybe even try to go to college or something."
"What good would college ever do you?"
Coricopat looked briefly hurt at that, "It could get me out of here."
That got the worst expression out of Macavity so far. "Fine, if you're that desperate to get away."
"That's...not what I meant Mac."
"Really? 'Cause that's what it sounded like. Little PR chit is more important, that's just fine."
"No, Mac...I just want us to get out of this alive. Both of us. All of us."
Looking down, Macavity slid off the table. "Who the hell wants to die in their beds anyway," he muttered darkly, dropping the cigarette and stomping on it before storming for the door.
"Mac, wait, please! What's eating you?" Coricopat asked, following him.
"What do you think?" Macavity said, turning on him. "You're supposed to be my brother," he said, jabbing a finger in Coricopat's chest. "In goddamn arms and all you can do is moon over some kid that comes up to here," and he gestured emphatically somewhere in the middle of his chest. "And tell me how much you want away. Out of the world we built from the ground up. The ground up, Cor!"
Coricopat flinched, "Mac, is it so bad to have dreams? To want a lasting life? I know we built this, but what about building something that will last longer even? We could do it."
For a long moment Mac considered him before shaking his head slightly. "What else could two kids from the slums build but this?"
"What about a business? Something like that? Doc pulled off this drug store himself."
Mac's laugh was sudden and bitter. "I don't wanna turn into Doc."
Coricopat scowled at that, "Would you rather turn up at the morgue?"
"Maybe it would be better than slowly fading away and bitchin' at every poor soul who crosses my threshold," Mac snapped.
His second's expression turned cold, "Well, maybe that's what I'd rather have out of my life. I've seen possibilities Mac. Ones that don't end with me choking on my own blood on some street corner knowing that my death is just going to cause more."
"How poetic," Mac snarled.
"What do you want from me, Mac? Do you want me to say that I look forward to death? That I look forward to leaving my parents alone? That I revel in the idea of blood and pain?"
"No," Macavity snapped. "Because that was never how this started out. It was skin and skin and it was about having something and holding onto it. You want to leave, fine, may the door hit you on the way out."
"That's not where it started but even you can see that's where it's headed! What would the rumble have looked like if I hadn't come in? Huh?"
"Maybe that's the thing Cor," Mac replied. "Maybe I trust you to always come in." He turned to walk away again.
Coricopat didn't call him back this time, standing there gaping after him.
w.w.w.w
Tumble glanced over his shoulder as he slipped off of school grounds during lunch. He made his way along the street, kicking absently at a tin can until he reached the playground. He whistled once, hoping he was right about where the boy he was looking for was.
Tugger poked his head down from where he was up on the jungle gym. "Why, if it isn't little Tumble. What brings you out here?"
The other tilted his head back to look up at the other, "Lookin' for you, what's it look like?"
"No idea," Tugger said, dropping down. "So, what's up then?" he asked, perching on the bottom of the gym.
"Just didn't want to deal with math class again. Also, think it's fair to warn you that if you miss any more days truancy's going to be on your ass."
"Truancy can have my ass for all I care," Tugger said, rolling his shoulders. "Too jittery for class."
"Yeah, great, give the cops another reason to ride you. What do ya mean to jittery?"
"What do you mean what do I mean?" Tugger huffed. "Considerin' tomorrow you think I wanna sit around in some class to have some idiot lecturin' me?"
Tumble shrugged, "Maybe not. It ain't like you're fighting tomorrow though."
"Sure, says you now," Tugger huffed.
The smaller teen pulled himself up on the monkey bars, "So maybe we end up fighting. What do you think we'll do if the PRs win?"
"They won't," Tugger said, giving Tumble a long look. How could they?"
"I know, I'm just saying if they do..."
"Well it's foolish to even entertain the notion!"
Tumble flinched, "Right. Sorry."
"Well, first of all, have some more faith in Admetus. Then there's the fact if it turns into a brawl, we have the stronger fighters and it's our home."
The other fiddled with the scab on his ear, "Yeah, I know. But they're fighting for a home too. But...Alright then, what are we gonna do if we win?"
"What we've always done," Tugger said, eying him strangely.
"Keep fighting? I thought this meant a cease fire?" Tumble shrugged, "I mean..."
"Yeah?" Tugger asked, eyes narrowing ever so slightly.
"Nothin'."
Tugger scowled, standing up. "Any reason you came lookin' around for me?"
"Cause you weren't at school, I was skipping math and I'm bored?"
Looking him over, Tugger nodded. "Want to, I dunno, cause trouble then?"
Tumble grinned, "Whaddya got in mind?"
"I donno, I'm sure there are some people that need heckling, some shops to raid," Tugger shrugged. "Nothin' violent like."
Tumble paused, considering and then shrugged, "Sure."
"I mean, unless you have any other plans," Tugger said, with a shrug.
"Not right now I don't."
Tugger chuckled, the sound low and deep. "Gives us all sorts of direction in life, donit?"
Tumble hopped down from the monkey bars, grinning up at the other, "Direction? Who wants it?"
"Not Jets, that's for sure!" Tugger declared, thumbs looped through his belt loops and jutting his hips out.
That got a laugh, "Yeah, right."
"What, you doubt the Jets?" Tugger arched a brow, teasing but as always there was a layer of something else there.
Tumble glanced at him, "Not what I meant, Tug."
"Ah, come on, I'm just toyin'," Tugger shook his head.
That got a bit of a grin, though there was an uncertainty to it, "Good. So, where we headin'?"
"Not sure we ever decided. What say you to the arcade?"
"Arcade sounds good to me. After you, Tug."
w.w.w.w
Coricopat leaned against the wall of the soda shop's building, watching for Mistoffelees. It was better for them to meet outside the territories he kept reminding himself, especially considering who they were.
It was several minutes before Mistoffelees appeared around the corner, having just run. "I can't stay as long," he said, skidding to a stop.
"Can't...Alright. Has something come up?"
"Pounce, my brother," he swallowed. "Just have to be more careful today is all."
Coricopat nodded slightly, "Macavity was pretty succinct yesterday too..."
Mistoffelees blinked at him, stepping closer. "Did, was, does he know?"
"Sort of. I don't know if he knows we're seeing each other. He knows I was in the territory after the dance."
"Everyone seems to know that," Mistoffelees sighed. "Does he not approve then?"
"Mac doesn't approve of anything I'm doing right now."
"I'm sorry," Mistoffelees said, taking Coricopat's hand. "You're close, right?"
Coricopat squeezed the other's hand, "We grew up together. He lived with my family for four years."
"So really close," Mistoffelees said. "God, I know my brother doesn't approve of you, but that still must be hard."
He sighed, shrugging, "He'll have to deal with it. I want out of it. All of it. He thinks it means I'm, I don't know, stabbing him in the back, leaving him high and dry, or something."
"Would you be?"
"I..." he sighed, "Maybe."
Looking down both sides of the street again, Mistoffelees leaned up, kissing the taller teen, meant to be a comforting gesture.
Coricopat drew him close, kissing him almost desperately. Pressing into the kiss, Mistoffelees' hands came up to settle around Coricopat's back. The taller teen leaned down, his hand tangling in Mistoffelees' hair.
Drawing away with a deep breath, Mistoffelees looked around again before resting his forehead against the taller teen's. "I wish I could go dancing with you."
"Why don't we just leave?" Coricopat murmured in response.
"Leave? For tonight? Or do you mean forever?"
"Both? Neither? I don't know."
Mistoffelees' tangled his fingers in Coricopat's shirt. "God, neither of us have finished school, my brother, we're the only family we have, and my home and your family and... and god the very thought sounds so tempting I want to pack tonight and be on the first train I see."
"We...should finish school. But I finish next month. Why don't we just take a time away? Come back after this has blown over?"
"It's never going to just blow over," Mistoffelees said. "Not in a month. Years, maybe."
"What if we leave once I'm finished? We can see about jobs, maybe more school? Start a new life, away from here. Away from the violence and hate."
"I'm at least a year behind you," Mistoffelees murmured. "If we left when you finished though... god, it's just, I just..." he trailed off, resting his head on Coricopat's shoulder and murmured something quietly in Spanish.
Coricopat stroked his hand gently over Mistoffelees' hair, "So we see about finding you somewhere to go to school. Somewhere that you can finish." He paused, "What did you just say?"
"I love you, my heart." He drew back again slightly. "If we wait a month, we'll never leave."
The taller teen paused, "You...you're right. I can finish my education, elsewhere. Maybe try for an alternate degree. Anything."
Drawing back, Mistoffelees took a breath. "But..."
"But?" Coricopat shook his head, "Either way, I can't leave before tomorrow night. I have to make sure Macavity doesn't do anything excessively stupid."
"If we leave, it has to be before tomorrow. Tomorrow..." Mistoffelees shook his head.
"Tomorrow...?"
"Tomorrow," Mistoffelees sighed. "I don't know. I just feel like everything is going to go wrong."
"I...I can't leave before then, Misto. It would burn every possible bridge I have to do so."
Biting his lip, the smaller looked down. "God."
"We'll leave tomorrow night, after everyone's asleep, alright?"
"Alright," Mistoffelees said quietly. "Alright."
"We'll make it work, Mistoffelees," the taller teen promised quietly.
He nodded, looking down the street again. "And today?"
"Today...we...could go for a walk?"
"A walk?" Mistoffelees repeated with a small smile.
"Well, yes? I mean unless you'd rather something else?"
"Dance," Mistoffelees said with a small smile. "But I wouldn't know where."
"I think there's a place a few blocks from here. When do you have to be back?"
"Before my brother gets home," Mistoffelees said. "Seven, usually."
"Then we've got time to go to that place and get at least a dance in."
A grin broke out over Mistoffelees' face. "Great."
"Shall we then?" Coricopat offered Mistoffelees his arm.
"Yes," Mistoffelees agreed, sliding his arm through Coricopat's. "Worry about tomorrow, tomorrow."
Coricopat tilted his head to kiss the other's temple, "Yes, worry about that then."
w.w.w.w
Several hours later, Mistofofelees reached the apartment door, opening it slowly.
Munkustrap looked up from where he was working on dinner, "Work run late then?"
Blinking rapidly, Mistoffelees nodded. "Y-yeah, it ran a bit later than usual. You, meanwhile, are home early."
"Interesting, I would have sworn I saw a light in Bomba's apartment..."
"Well," Mistoffelees swallowed. "It was a project I was working on, I think she left earlier."
"Really? So it had nothing to do with that American?"
His entire spine tensing, the younger brother froze for a damning second. "The American?"
Munkustrap's eyes narrowed, his entire being tensing as he settled back into their native tongue, "How could you do this?"
"Do what?" Mistoffelees tried in one last-ditch attempt.
"Do not lie to me. You have been out with the Jets lieutenant."
Breath hitching, Mistoffelees finally nodded, the motion jerky. "Yes."
"How could you do this? You know what I think of them! You know how I feel about this!"
"But it's not just about how you feel, brother! It's about my feelings too."
"And what are those, Mistoffelees? I don't think I've heard them," Munkustrap snarled.
"I-I, I like him. I want to get to know him. Is that so wrong?" the younger brother asked, taking a step back.
"It is if you're lying to me about this. You barely know him. Or what he's capable of."
"I know what you're capable of," Mistoffelees replied, chin tilting back slightly. "What more could he do?"
Munksutrap gaped at him, "What...You..."
"You can't take the moral high ground when you run your own gang," Mistoffelees continued. "You act like he's so much worse but don't you do the same things? Why is it acceptable for me to love you but not him?"
"I...That is not a fair comparison, Mistoffelees."
"Why not?" he demanded.
"What reason does he have for your loyalty?" Munkustrap countered.
Eyes dropping down and to the side, Mistoffelees tried to change tactics. "And if someone told you to stay away from Bomba, would you?"
Munkustrap stared at him for a long moment, "How is that the same thing?"
"Be-because I care about him and..."
"Care about him? Someone you've only known for handful of days, not even that?"
"Does that really matter?" Mistoffelees cried. "How long before you cared about Bomba? Me?"
"You're my brother, that's different," Munkustrap replied testily.
"And Bomba?" Mistoffelees pressed.
"Well, I didn't kiss her the first time I met her for one!"
"Did you want to?" Mistoffelees asked. "Have you never felt that gut wrenching want around someone and just know you wanted to see them again?"
"I don't know when that developed with Bomba. We knew each other as kids."
"So what," Mistoffelees spread his arms, anger and fear curling in his stomach. "You think I should stay only with those I know?"
"I think I would feel better about it," Munkustrap snapped.
"It's not about making you feel better, brother."
"I do not trust them. I've seen them in a fight, and I do not trust them."
Taking another deep breath, Mistoffelees ran a hand through his hair. "And him? Have you seen him fight?"
"He only supposedly stopped running with them a month ago."
"So have you seen him before?" Mistoffelees asked, voice strained.
"Thinking back? Yes. He's efficient," Munkustrap said, crossing his arms over his chest.
"That hardly sounds terrifying," Mistoffelees mumbled.
"Until you face that efficiency with a weapon in hand."
Dropping his gaze again, Mistoffelees sucked in a breath. "Brother, I love him. Isn't that enough?"
Munkustrap froze at that, "You what?"
"I love him," Mistoffelees repeated but took a full step back as he said it anyway.
His brother didn't say anything for a long moment, "I..." He drew a deep breath, trying to calm his temper, "I'm going out. I'll be back later."
Mistoffelees' jaw worked for several moments of blind panic before he nodded and stepped aside. His brother exited, the door all but slamming behind him. His footsteps could be heard on the stairs that ran beside their apartment as he headed up to the roof.
Mistoffelees stumbled over to the nearest chair and sank down, his head in his arms.
The scene with Mac and Cori was, strangely enough, one of the more painful to write, since so much of that is about to go wrong. Hindsight is going to be no one's friend in this story.
We hope everyone has been enjoying this story, and it would mean a lot to us if our readers could take a moment to leave a review. It makes your authors feel quite appreciated and when dealing with midterms and a retail job that means quite a lot. We even accept annon. reviews. Cheers all, and thank you again for reading!
