Chapter Text
It doesn’t take much time for Steb to settle into his new routine. He’s diligent and steadfast, so it is easy for him to adapt to whatever is thrown at him.
Ever since his promotion, his work has been different to what it was before the final battle. He has been delegated to overseeing paperwork and attending meetings every now and then with people whose names he can’t recall. It is not at all like his days spent patrolling the city, being part of Kiramann’s strike team or even commanding his own small group of enforcers during the very last few months before it all went south.
Steb walks back to his small office, holding several documents containing details about resource distribution and officer allocation. Their numbers have dwindled significantly and it is near impossible to extend the same amount of care everywhere.
He can’t help but feel he isn’t making any progress in anything. The days pass by looking the same.
The complex administration doesn't help. Menial tasks take far longer than they have to. Steb sits down in his slightly uncomfortable chair and is washed with a feeling that this is not what he signed up for.
He shakes his head, pushing the feeling away. After all, there’s too much to do to wallow and contemplate one’s feelings. Steb shoves it away as something he will have to deal with later, something he’s gotten quite good at the past few years.
Besides attending meetings and overseeing reconstruction plans, he spends his time alone. It isn’t something he’s used to. He has rarely been unaccompanied for a long stretch of time during his career as an enforcer. His years at the Academy were filled with the constant chatter of his peers and during his patrols someone was always nearby. Steb reminisces about the long hours spent with officer Nolen by his side, amused by her antics of trying to impress everyone around her.
It turned out her wide-eyed earnestness was a façade.
Now he's spending lonesome hours behind his desk, working his way through grueling paperwork.
And it is during these hours that his mind drifts to a certain Chirean man. His broad shoulders and soft lips plague his thoughts which he cannot escape.
Their last conversation left a bitter taste in his mouth. It wasn’t as if the Chirean was wrong, being part of the system meant there was little room for personal influence. Being promoted to captain made him no exception to the scheming of his superiors and the Council. It was the confrontation with this fact that made him quick to shut himself off, filled with a pang of shame and guilt.
Steb has long been aware of the position he takes — knows he’s a coward for staying complicit. Opting instead for ignoring and pushing ahead. One is safe when one never stands still.
Yet, his mind is addled with the memory of that warm body against his, bright green eyes, and conversations lasting deep into the night. Steb catches himself longing for the steady presence of the Firelight beside him.
Being so easily distracted is foreign to him and he tries to dedicate himself to work to escape himself, running away from one problem after another, unlike in combat.
He works late hours, coming home late and sleeping little, letting his brain run on auto-pilot. The people around him don’t seem to notice. Or he fails to see the people around him. Either way, he tries to keep himself busy.
And during the small hours, he slides his hand down his briefs. Touching himself to the thought of Scar pounding into him, degrading him for betraying what he means he stands for.
It sends a pang of arousal through him. He imagines the other man roughly handling him — putting him in place.
This discovery is added to the list of things he’ll have to compartmentalise.
Steb drives himself to a climax, lifting his hips off the mattress and chasing his high right before being plunged into feelings of guilt.
Reality hits him that he’s been pathetically jerking himself off to his ex-coworker (friend? he is not sure).
Dragging himself out of bed to clean himself up, he looks into the bathroom mirror. He sees two tired eyes staring back at him. The fearsome enforcer is nowhere to be seen. There is only the reflection of a man desperately trying to keep things together.
The next day, he is running from errand to errand. Rebuilding a city keeps a man busy. The Council disagrees over how much should be invested in Zaun, despite the people there clearly struggling as much if not more than the ones in Piltover, which has been made clear from the reports partly thanks to Scar and Steb.
He doesn’t attend these meetings, but the situation is clear for everyone. Even with the new Council members, Sevika still remains Zaun’s only representative. It is hard to change the minds of people stuck in their ways, it even took Steb some time.
Steb wishes he could do anything to persuade them but he finds himself helpless. Despite his ranking, he isn’t in the position to do much.
All day, he’s been itching to talk to Scar. Unable to ignore the thoughts about the man like the pull of a magnet, he makes up his mind and decides that maybe he should send him a message. Ask him how he’s doing.
That is when he realises, in his urgency to leave, he never got a way to contact Scar; the Firelight base location is still a secret to outsiders and definitely people from topside. Steb immediately gives up the notion.
He sighs, slumping into his chair. It creaked under his weight.
***
Scar curses under his breath. Despite his thick skin, he once again managed to prick himself in the finger whilst trying to mend his pants— the knee area suffering the greatest damage during his outings.
He’s been at it for a good half an hour when it usually just takes him ten. Scar is aware of his lack of focus lately, and he isn’t the only one.
Last week, when hunting down leftover Shimmer-trade with his scouting team, he accidentally toppled over a tower of crates, creating a cacophony of sounds that would’ve revealed their presence. Luckily, no soul was around, but he never makes sloppy mistakes like that and his fellow Firelights know it.
While that was a harmless accident, as the second-in-command he cannot afford to make any miscalculations, lest something worse happens than a few scattered boxes across the ground.
And it all has to do with a certain blue-eyed Vastayan man that will not leave his mind.
He sighs and picks up his needle again, hunching his back over his needlework. Somewhere in the room he can hear April giggling, playing by herself.
He really tried to move on after they'd parted. Filled with confusion and resentment, he had thought the best course of action was to just forget about the man. What they had was just that, an arrangement to blow off some steam.
There is nothing to gain from wasting his time thinking about topsiders anyway. There’s no changing them. Besides,there are greater things to worry about. Scar has heard about the standstill in Council, the discussion is going nowhere and the people of Zaun— his people, need more than the little that is currently given to them.
Not that he isn’t grateful for what they have, but he fails to understand how they can see the circumstances the inhabitants of the Undercity are living in and not do more . After all they’ve done for them during the final battle too, he scoffs.
No matter, he and the Firelights know how to rely on themselves.
But it would be damn nice to get some help sometimes.
And after all this, Steb still occupies his thoughts. Scar curses him for the effect he has on him. And the relationship they shared does not warrant this reaction from him at all. He might be losing his mind.
Ekko, his best friend and confidant, is well aware something is going on. But Scar struggles to confide in this one thing, even though they share almost everything with each other. He seems to have accepted the fact that he shouldn’t push, after Scar had repeatedly expertly avoided the topic.
He puts his work down. Outside his house he can hear the preparations going on for the festivities surrounding the anniversary of the Firelights. In times like these it is difficult to use more resources than necessary but the people are in need of something to forget about their worries, even if for a short while. God knows Scar needs it.
Scar wrecks his mind as to why his separation with Steb is prompting such a reaction out of him, and that is when he realises. Shit . He’s grown attached to the man. Scar groans and sinks into the palm of his hands.
Of course he had to fall for a topside enforcer. Just his luck.
April garbles something intelligible, snapping Scar from his sudden revelation. She’s playfully biting the toy gifted by Steb, a trail of drool smeared across her chin. He sighs out of fondness and goes ahead to retrieve a handkerchief to clean her up.
“I think it’s naptime for daddy’s ferocious little girl.”
She giggles as he picks her up, dropping the toy in the process. After he puts her to bed, he tries to tidy up the small living room they share, having resigned that continuing mending will be pointless since he’s so out of it today.
His eyes fall to the discarded teether on the floor. He puts the other things aside to wash it before he forgets. Gliding his thumb across the surface of it, he is reminded of Steb’s act of kindness that day. Not just then, the captain has shown utmost empathy and compassion to the people in Zaun, helping anyone whenever he could.
As much as he tries to attach the image in his head of all topsiders to Steb, he is like a stubborn lock of hair that won’t stay put. Steb, with all his faults, is not like them. He is kind and loyal to the bone to his cause. To paint him as something he’s not, is discrediting everything he’s done the last few months.
But still, their final goodbye had him thinking he might not know the man as well as he thought.
Someone knocks on his door, it opens before he can welcome them in.
“I want you to join me when I speak to the Council.”
Ekko stands at the entrance with his arms crossed and head cocked.
“Why not Marsh? She’s the better talker.” Having been one of the first to join the Firelights, Marsh is one of the most experienced and has a silver tongue which comes in handy during negotiations. Not to mention, as an unassuming human woman she was more… acceptable in the eyes of Piltover, unlike Scar.
“What? Can’t I ask for moral support from my best man? She says she’s busy that day anyway, and I want someone next to me who I can rely on.” There definitely was an underlying motivation that Ekko was keeping secret.
“You don’t trust anyone else?” Scar cocked an eyebrow. “How un-leaderlike of you, Ekko.”
“You know what I mean,” Ekko went on to land a punch on Scars arm.
Scar pauses for a moment before he inevitably gives in. There was no reason not to go and he wants to see for himself what the situation is like up there. And maybe he’ll run into a certain Vastayan.
He clasps his best friend's hand.
“Alright.”
***
If one more thing happens to Steb today, he might just throw himself off a cliff. The day started with a pounding headache that wouldn’t go away, after a good night’s sleep of just over 4 hours. He thought he would have gotten used to his short hours by now, but apparently not.
Then, as he made his way to his office, the sky decided to release a downpour on him, drenching him to the bone with his uniform clinging to his skin. Steb might be a fish Vastayan, yet he looked more like a wet dog as he left a dripping trail through the halls. Thankfully, he had some spare clothes lying at hand but was immediately met with more demands and more tasks. In the meantime his coffee had also turned cold. Just. Great.
With his hair still slightly damp, he blows his runny nose, ready to actually start his work. His eyes drifted to the clock that hung on the wall. Shit. He’s supposed to pick up the meeting notes of the Council meeting today. He dragged himself from his seat and made his way out. He remarks that the wet marks he’s left have dried already.
On the way over, he bumps his shoulder with a burly enforcer of a high rank, getting no acknowledgement from her. Despite his status as captain, he still wasn’t respected by everyone. There was nothing he could do about it, he had long convinced himself.
He recognized her, she had been the one to arrest a group of Zaunites in the Undercity, claiming they’ve been stealing crops from Topside, selling them to the people down there. Despite their claims of having produced the goods themselves— not believing Zaunites were capable of growing anything edible of that big of a scale— she and her team confiscated everything and threw them in a cell.
“Those rats have some nerve stealing from us,” she had said then. “Considering they have already been given so much when it should’ve been given to Piltover’s own citizens.”
Now, Steb does not know whether they are actually capable of cultivating land down there, he does know that the Zaunites are a resourceful bunch. And he absolutely despises the guts of that lieutenant. It wouldn’t be anything new if something fishy happened regarding those patrols.
He’s been working here for years, after all. And those years have started to weigh down on him. He no longer is the bright eyed boy who joined the enforcers in the hopes of bettering the world anymore, he’s grown weary and tired.
Lately he’s given the idea of quitting more thought. Perhaps Scar was not wrong in saying that he is better suited somewhere else. Somewhere where he was able to make some real change for the better, somewhere not here.
It took some time, but he has gotten over the initial offense he experienced. Perhaps his reaction was slightly out of line, but he was not ready to face the reality of his own situation just then.
Matter of fact was, being part of the enforcers didn’t suit those who wanted to make direct change, unless one was on the very top of the chain. And Steb has climbed that ladder, but it seems like even then, there are limitations. Going against the grain would always be met with resistance.
Though it wasn’t Scar who planted the first seedling of doubt in him, he has long been disillusioned with the system and yet he stayed. It was Scar who stirred the doubt within him, the force that caused his mind endless unrest the past few weeks. Yet, even so, where would someone like Steb go?
He turned around the corner into a new hallway end immediately sensed something was off. Before he could give it another thought, someone touched his shoulder from behind. His instincts kicked in despite his fatigue, ingrained from years of training. Steb grabbed the wrist and twisted the arms of the stranger behind their back before he could process who it was, restraining them against the wall. He was met with a surprising lack of resistance.
“What a warming welcome. Is this how you greet your coworkers too?”
Steb has trouble believing his eyes. It must be his lack of sleep that’s causing him to hallucinate.
“Scar?” he manages to rasp out.
The man let out a slight groan and Steb quickly realises he still has him in a hold and grows all too aware of how close they are. His chest presses against Scar’s back, feeling his warmth seep into him. He releases him and takes a step back to really make sure his eyes aren’t playing tricks on him.
“ What are you doing here?” Steb’s heart rate is rapidly increasing but he’s desperately trying to keep his calm. What the hell is happening .
“Just passing by, nothing else. Admiring the architecture and such,” Scar says, and my god it really is him, as he massages his forearm of where Steb held him.
Steb raises an eyebrow at him.
“I accompanied Ekko to the Council meeting, trying to knock some sense into their dense heads. Can’t say for sure if it worked at all but we've definitely left an impression,” Scar snorted.
“And… I’ve been meaning to look for you.”
His green eyes trailed across Steb’s face, the exact same ones that have been etched into his brain. Steb tries to process what he had just said.
“You look like shit,” Scar declares.
“ Thanks,” Steb signs. “ You look quite alright yourself.” The other man grins in response, baring his canines. It was true, Scar was as attractive as always, utterly frustrating him. “ I wanted to see you again too,” he confesses.
“That makes two of us then,” Scar smiles.
There is an awkward silence that falls upon them, both men not knowing what to say next. Steb has been daydreaming about having the Chirean stand before him again and yet, now that this has become reality, he finds himself at a loss of words.
He doesn’t have to keep worrying for long as Scar coughs in his fist and says, “I see you got your uniform back on, captain. I almost forgot how you looked like in one, though I like you better in something more casual.” Suddenly Steb feels all too self aware of everything adorning his body. He shakes his head.
“ No need to call me that. I might not be captain by then,” he signs. Scar’s eyebrows rise up in surprise.
“You’re quittin’?”
Steb quickly places his finger on his own lips to indicate Scar should lower his voice. “ I haven’t officially submitted my resignation letter yet. The thought of it has been floating in my mind as of late.” That Scar has also been part of his daydreams he leaves out. “ You were right,” Steb admits.
“Now those are a combination of words I like to hear,” Scar grins as he folds his arms. He didn’t wear his jacket, making his biceps stand out. Steb longed to touch him again, he was just within arms reach.
“Captain Steb, there’s something urgent I would like to discuss,” someone yells from the end of the hall. Steb looks back and sees a sergeant waving his arm at him. From his experience it is never that urgent as they make it to be, but he is smarter than to ignore it. He shoots Scar an apologetic look, wishing they had some more time to talk. Steb nods at the sergeant, signing he’ll be there in a minute.
“Before you go,” Scar says, grabbing Steb’s arm just as he is about to leave. “There’s a celebration at the Firelight’s in a few days. I’d like you to be there too. That’s why I came to look for you.” Now it’s Steb’s turn to be surprised. “You’d be able to meet April too.”
“ I… I would be honored. ” The Firelights don’t just invite outsiders, it was a sign of trust from Scar, a chance to set things right between them. A chance Steb wasn’t going to let slip by easily.
“I couldn’t let you run away like that for a second time,” Scar teases. Steb flushes and averts his gaze.
“ I apologize for how I left things off last time. I will gladly be there.”
“Captain?” The sergeant calls out, clearly unhappy Steb is taking his time talking to someone from the Undercity for that long.
Scar quickly reached for something in his back pocket, giving a scrap of paper to him. “Here. Be sure to burn it when you’re done.”
Steb nods and tucks it away. He casts one last glance at Scar before he heads off, meeting the other man’s lingering gaze.
Turning around, he walks away, feeling light on his feet.