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Kisses Mean Heartbreak

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They had been driving for far too long. Having been sent on a little scrap-run, they shouldn’t have had to drive most of the day away, well into the night. Of course, when Nux and Slit put their minds to something, they hardly did it by half-measures. In fact, they poured all of themselves into the mission, no matter what it was; they had managed to snag and entire vehicle that had been abandoned, along with quite a few other pieces that the other revheads were going to go insane over. Bits and bobbles fit around and on the Lancer’s perch, but eventually Slit had been pushed from it, too much stuff in the way, so he crowded the empty floorspace beside Nux, the rusted, twisted carcass of a car dragging behind them. Not only had that slowed them down, however, but they were so far from the Citadel that there was no way to see which way was home.

Nearly lighting everything a dim blue, the moon rose high in the sky above them, only signaling that they were beyond lost if they’d set out that morning. Catching a flutter of movement out of his ruined eye, the Lancer rose a brow and turned on the other, looking up at him from the floor.

Occasionally, he would tip his head to the side, baring Larry and Barry a bit more, before hissing in pain and shaking it out. If this didn’t seem to fend off his exhaustion, he would close his eyes tight, nose scrunching and only making that wonderful scar look pooched and perfect. Slit had to force himself not to sigh in appreciation, but thankfully held it off until those eyes snapped back open with the intensity usually reserved for the excited music the Doof Warrior played. He’d seen these tricks a thousand times, when Nux would do whatever he could to stay up when he was working in the Temple; despite his valiant efforts, Slit usually had to carry his dead-to-the-world Driver to his bunk after he passed out, laid over an engine.

“Pull over.” The roughness of his voice was somehow forsaken for a much more quiet version, though his slight lisp was still present. It seemed that just hearing something other than the whistle of wind through the windows and the roar and shriek of the engine piqued the younger man’s interest long enough to drag his eyes off the road.

“What…?” Dazed and slightly lost, the driver didn’t seem to understand the rather dramatic eyeroll that sent Slit’s entire head in a near circle on his neck.

“I said pull over, numb nuts.” He growled, voice picking up over a sudden sputter of disgruntled rage from the engine, “Or at least stop. I’ll drive for a while, you need to sleep or we’ll both die.”

“If you drive, we’ll both die. You can’t drive stick.” Sleep permeated his words, dragging them out and making the sluggish to leave; he very nearly didn’t finish his sentence properly. A yawn broke them, then and he shook his head, “I got this, Slit, don’t worry.”

“You don’t.” Gruffed the elder man, who had taken to his knees and very firmly jabbed the other in the side. “You haven’t eaten today, haven’t had any Aqua Cola, haven’t even stopped driving long enough to piss. Stop the fucking car and take a nap.”

“Sli--” It seemed that the only decent amount of trying to change his lover’s mind was none, because Nux barely had a chance to jam his foot on the brake pedal before a heavy hand smashed his head into the steering wheel. Nobody told Slit ‘no’ when it came to his partner’s well-being; not even Nux, himself. Even with Nux traveling to the Organic’s medbay every six days, it was always Slit who brought him, always Slit that made sure he was set up with a blood bag that wouldn’t pansy him up, or kill him soft, always Slit to growl and huff and intimidate anyone who said that his driver was weak.

Once the car came to a hummed halt, the much larger man somehow managed to manhandle his smaller lover into his old spot, taking up the seat behind the wheel. Having to push the seat back a bit, he sighed slightly before shaking his head and grinning. Morning would come, eventually, and with it, hopefully, a rescue party that wouldn’t get them even more hopelessly lost. At least, like this, the elder War Boy would be able to practice driving a stick without Nux’s constant chatter.

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Victory tasted shiny and chrome, almost metallic on his tongue. Of course, that could also be the fact that he’d had a staple ripped out and his mouth was filled with blood, but he was chalking it up in the winning column. Slit threw up his arms and rolled them, leaning back until he nearly fell out of the Coupe, whooping and hollering and still so very revved up that it was likely he wouldn’t find sleep tonight. It wasn’t until they were pulling into their usual spot that he noticed something was off; Nux wasn’t anywhere near as excited as he was, he didn’t even really smile. There was something about the distressed, distant look on his driver’s face that made even the high of battle lust singing through his veins seem hollow. Beating on the roof for a moment, he leaned forward and awaited the opening of the sunroof.

“Yeah?” Turning those brilliant blue eyes to look at the flushed man behind him, Nux offered a forced smile, trying to look easy and hyped, but it only looked like he was trying to reassure a lizard that he wasn’t about to pounce on it and swallow it whole.

“Are you hurt?” He questioned, head tipping to the side, “Because you don’t look revved at all.”

“...Damn buzzards took out my little Nessa.” Holding up the shattered remains of his old dashboard companion, something he’d been given by a mentor when he first started driving, he looked more pitiful than Slit had ever seen him. Of course, the lancer had simply rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“Not like she’s that important. She’s just a dog, Nux.” A dog whose head bobbed in excitement when the coupe flew over the sand, who had always been there when Slit was gone. Even if he knew it was stupid, maybe even soft, he couldn’t help but mourn her loss, going so far as to hide her remains in a small box he’d managed to get to himself, and putting it under his bunk.

Driving with the younger man had become almost impossible as he moped about, distracted by his empty dashboard, and after a week of this, Slit couldn’t possibly handle it anymore.

Everyone knew that Nux slept like the dead, but nobody knew it better than his partner, considering he often had to share a bed with him. It wasn’t so much that they couldn’t bare to be apart (Slit would violently back this up), so much as Nux had a hard time breathing if he didn’t get properly propped up, and nobody else was as qualified to drive him about. Yes, that was it. Of course, nobody knew that the one thing that seemed to wake him up every single time just so happened to be his loving Lancer moving, even just slightly. Which, really, was putting a wrench in Slit’s plans to crawl over the other’s body and work on his new idea.

“Mnn… Slit…” The whimpering War Boy tried to cling to the larger man, but he was only shoved back down with a vicious kiss.

“I’ll be back, numb nuts. I have to piss.” That was a good enough excuse that put Nux back to sleep, it seemed, so Slit was able to leave for as long as it took to get his surprise ready.

It wasn’t until the next morning that he finally returned, slotting his hips in perfectly with the younger man’s and thoroughly shocking him awake with a box suddenly dropped onto his chest. Fear and fury lit his eyes as he shot up, the present suddenly held between their strong bodies as he watched the other for a moment, coming back into his body pretty quickly.

“Slit…?”

“Open it.” He growled, eyes narrowing, “Just. Open. It. Nux.”

“Longest piss I ever heard of.” The driver muttered under his breath, leaning back and getting comfortable before lifting the beat-up cardboard lid and peering inside. Pulling out a small bird’s skull, jaw dropped in what appeared to be a permanent grin, that rest on a spring sealed to a slightly raised disk, he turned those eyes up at Slit. “What’s this?”

“It reminded me of you.” Softness was not quite Slit’s forte, but when his voice dropped so that only Nux could hear him, it stole his breath. Licking his lips a little, he leaned in and kissed the other’s lips, slow and gentle for a second before he seemed to catch up with himself. Quickly turning that kiss rough enough to leave them both tasting blood and not certain whose it was, he pushed back with a growl on his lips, “You both have been squawking all week and I couldn’t stand it anymore.”

Pushing hard at the other, knocking him from his hips, Nux gave a frown and rolled his eyes, “Yeah, thanks.” Way to ruin the mood, too. Getting up and heading to find his breakfast, he left a rather shined up Slit on their bunk, staring after him.

Despite this, however, on their next ride out into the desert, the little birdie had a beautiful spot on Nux’s dash; Slit could hardly hide his joy.

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“No.” There was no room for argument in his tone, as the larger man slowed to a stop, boots practically dug into the concrete before Paradisiac Patisserie. The small cafe rose from the ground in a beautiful shade of bubblegum pink, with white and gray striped awnings lined in intricate lace. Women of all shapes and sizes seemed to flock to the place, and all of its feminine glory seemed to make the ever-brave Simon “Slit” Rogers back down. It certainly didn’t look like the kind of place a Half-Life War Boy should be going to, and the simple fact that he’d been discovered only made him more stubborn. Shaking his bald head, the bulkier man crossed his arms over his chest, “I am not going in there.” Of course, the oblivious bean pole beside him just offered a bewildered grin and tugged on a thickly muscled arm.

“Oh, come on, Slit.” He started, those enormous, impossibly blue eyes set to stun, “I’ve seen the boxes in the trash, I know you come here a lot. I wanted to know what was so damn good. Let’s just go in and--”

“And what, Numb Nuts?” Groused the elder man, who rolled his eyes and focused them on anything other than that pleading face, “Have a date like some ‘normal’ couple?” Resentment was clear in his voice, but it didn’t seem that Nux would be deterred.

“Well… Yeah. Why not?” Oh, there were some times that the mechanic really just needed a fist buried in his face. Somehow, those eyes finally managed to placate him enough to get his balled fists back to open palms, and he finally heaved a great sigh.

“You’re such an idiot.” It was clear enough that even the younger man could tell that his lover bemoaned his existence at the moment, but he took his gloved hand regardless and lead them inside the cafe.

“It’s not like you get the girliest thing on the menu or anything, right?” He tried to tease, but after a few moments of silence, he turned to look at his usually pale lover, whose face was alight with a deep blush and he looked to be considering running. “...You do, don’t you, Slit?”

“Nux, I swear to V8 I’m about to fucking kill you.” He growled, though all tension seemed to leech from him when a large woman behind the counter sent him a bone-chilling glare.

“Language!” She hissed, gesturing to several of the other ladies that seemed quite disturbed by his outburst, “You should know better, Simon, honestly.”

Having to cover his snicker with a hand to avoid getting punched, Nux tried his hardest not to snort when the woman patronizingly asked if he wanted to ‘change it up’ or if he wanted the usual. Fuming, Slit responded with a curt, concise chopping of a sentence down to its bare bones.

“The usual.”

“And what about your gentleman friend?” Waggling her eyebrows, it was her turn to stifle a laugh as the grumpy tomato before her fished about in his pockets for his wallet.

“I don’t know. What do you wanna eat, Nuts?” Turning blazing eyes on the other seemed to have the younger man behaving a bit more, sidling up beside his lover and taking in the menu.

“Uh… What’s a bee-rock?” Head tilting, Nux watched the woman give an outright, pleased laugh before shaking her head.

“Beer-rock, Kid. It’s a pastry pocket with meat and vegetables inside.” She offered, pulling one out to show him.

“We’ll take twelve!” Well, nobody could say he didn’t have an appetite, at least, “And whatever Slit gets, give him a bunch, too.” That stilled his friend in his tracks and he shot desperate eyes at the woman who used to watch him when he was younger and less rambunctious, trying to tell her not to listen, but there she went, packing an entire raspberry rose cheesecake into a box. Facepalming in the background, he rolled his eyes and gave a soft grunt.

“Nux, I can’t afford a whole damn cheesecake. These fuckers are expensive.” He grumbled into the other’s ear, only to earn a full-fledged, innocent smile nearly in his face.

“No, no, I got this. It’s my treat.” Winking playfully, he tossed a few bills larger than what Slit had in his bank account onto the counter, and the order was processed fairly quickly. Walking out of the little bakery was almost as embarrassing as going in, especially with Nux going on and on about how they were going to have to make these last, but he still wanted to eat all of the ‘meat thingies’. This was going to be a long day.

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“Shit!” The loud hiss of displeasure carried over the clicking, sputtering sounds always filling the Temple. Something about the rasp of his lover’s ruined voice widened those maddeningly blue eyes, and Nux suddenly pulled himself from his hunch over the engine he’d been tinkering with, scanning the room to find his Lancer bent over a broken pile of what had probably once been exceptional Thundersticks. Much to his excitement, and confusion, he noticed belatedly that Slit’s neck was totally bare, and the shock of possessive need to claim it maybe added a bit of a bounce to his step as he made his way over. It wasn’t always that that neckerchief he wore didn’t decorate that pretty, pale column of flesh, and it seemed rare enough to leave his mouth watering, regardless.

Walking up on the thickly muscled War Boy before him like it was nothing, Nux had a million things that he wanted to say. The second he realized the reason for the cursing, however, the words dried and laid their carcasses to rest in his parched throat. Gulping a little, he placed an easily shrugged off hand on the elder male’s shoulder.

“Slit?” Voice soft, as if to keep this between them despite the fact that they were nearly swimming in other bodies, he tucked his head in against the other’s, as if it would help them communicate easier, “What, uh…?”

“Some idiot,” Narrowed eyes turned on the closest Lancer, a lanky young man that had a habit of bouncing from foot to foot and always glanced around like someone was going to take something secret from him, who had the decency to duck out to a different tunnel as Slit continued, “Tried to put shrapnel in his powder, then set it off.” The remnants of his neckwear rest in suddenly gentle hands, severed messily with several layers of fabric hanging open at either end. A frown etched itself onto the Driver’s face, some semblance of understanding in his eyes; Sentimental as War Boys weren’t, Slit’s own Pack Leader had given him that, something of his own before he’d left them in a run that had gone wrong. It was a slightly comforting thing for him, and now that was ruined, too. The bits of metal shining in Slit’s arm didn’t seem to concern him, certainly not more than the shine accessory in his hand. Nux figured Wielz had the right idea, for once, running off like that.

“Come here,” Tugging Slit to stand, he headed for their bunk with the elder man’s hand in his, and pulled out a small mending kit from beneath his pillow, “Let me fix it.”

Laying out on the rocky slab behind Nux, the Lancer loudly tongued at his facial scars, a silent promise of a reward in the thick, wet sounds. Fingers used to digging in and around metal with his work on the car, it was quite easy for the thinner Boy to begin picking out the shards of metal, though a deft hand reached out before he could pluck them all.

“Leave it.” He murmured, slipping in nice and close, until his muscled chest and stomach pressed into his lover’s leg, “It’s pretty shine, right?”

An enthusiastic nod had the younger man threading the needle and it hardly took five minutes before it was stitched back together and replaced over Slit’s neck, resting over his collar bones. Tugging the usually oblivious Driver down for a long, deep kiss, he chuckled a little, nearly a growl in his throat, as they quickly found that the only acceptable amount of space between them was none. After all, Nux had a reward to reap.

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“Wow, Slit, that’s so shiny!” Blue eyes widened as his jaw nearly dropped through the floor, admiring the slice travelling from the corner of his friend’s lip to his cheekbone, “Is that your mark?” Nux sounded positively breathless as he stared at it, fingers coming up to touch the recently rent flesh, having been the one to tug the gauze off.

“Yeah,” Of course, the elder male preened as his friend touched over the staples, feeling the pull of the skin as he spoke, “I’m officially a Half-Life. It’s fuckin’ chrome as shit, Nux. You need to hurry your pansy ass up and get initiated.” Even as he spoke, the younger male dug his fingers into the mark, making him clench his teeth to avoid wincing.

“Woah… I can feel that.” Always oblivious to the real issues, he ran the tip of his finger over a few teeth before his hand was slapped away.

“You’re going to fuck it up, Numb Nuts.” Came the growl of warning, eyes narrowed, “I’ll bite your fuckin’ fingers off.” This, however, came out on a grumbled chuckle, and the two teens sat back on Nux’s bed, Slit on his knees and Nux practically crawling around him to get a good look at his new scars. When he finally sat before the other, he reclined back and tipped his head until it hung on his neck, legs thrown over the elder’s strong thighs.

“Where do you think I should get my first scars?” The question came slowly, softly, as if it were more contemplation on the world around him, some profound thought that nobody else had ever had. Feeling a dip in the bed around him, his head snapped back up and eyes locked onto the other teen, who traced strong fingers over his lips.

“You got a nice mouth on you, Nuts. You should get your lips scarred. Can’t tell you how hot it is to feel the pucker of scarred flesh against your lips.” He offered, leaning in and kissing the other, the quirk of his lip from his own scarring adding to the sensations. After a moment, Nux’s lips trailed up the new wound, kissing and licking languidly as he wiggled, far too turned on by this than he should be.

“I could do that, for you, Slit.” He whispered against the other’s ear, nuzzling it just as he heard a knock at the door that sent him sprawling backwards.

“Nux!” Max’s grunt was soft, though still heard through the door, “Time for Slit to go home! His dad just called, needs him for something.”

“Shit.” Slit muttered, growling a little, not quite ready to get completely untangled from his younger lover’s body. “Fine…” The two teens quickly moved to gather the scarred male’s things, and as they made their way to the front door of the little flat Nux shared with his father, he paused when they opened the door and the sun had already set.

“Oh… Man, it’s dangerous at night in your area.” The blue-eyed young man told him, “Maybe I should walk you home.”

The incredulous look he earned in return nearly made his smile falter, but he kept it up, anyway.

“I don’t know if you noticed, Numb Nuts, but I’m stronger than you. I could handle myself in my neighborhood, I’ve done it all my life.” He replied, the sting left out of his voice and replaced with a bit of amazement. How could Nux be so damn stupid?

“Still, you… You need me to help! What if something happened and you were outnumbered? C’mon, Slit, let me walk with you.” With a glance at the younger teen’s father, who gave a dismissive nod and gestured for them to go, the two boys headed out into the night. The muted orange light of the street lamps lit their quiet walk, and Nux shyly slid his hand into his friend’s, ‘so I know where you are’ dropped so he wouldn’t think it was weird. Seafoam eyes just rolled a little at the other, intertwining their fingers as they continued towards the Bad Side Of Town.

Nobody bothered them, just as Slit had predicted, more likely because of his own intimidating looks rather than Nux’s presence. When they arrived at his door, he kissed the other on the forehead, shaking his head.

“Alright, Numb Nuts, you walked me home. You’re coming in, right? Otherwise, we’ll be walking each other home all night.” He offered, not trusting Nux to be left alone walking back over a mile. The other was coughing already, seeming winded, and he nodded. “Good. Now, come on in.” Letting him in, they snuck past the drunk man on the couch and headed towards Slit’s room to get comfortable.

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The sun had yet to rise, but there were already sounds of stirring War Boys who couldn’t bare to sleep anymore. Nux was up, on the edge of his bunk, fighting returning to Slit’s embrace. He turned slightly, finding a kiss to his forehead and a lazy, sleepy smile waiting for him.

“Have a good day at work, Numb Nuts. Don’t get too revved without me.” Falling back to the bed and into dreamland, he left a happy blackthumb bouncing off to play with his car.

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The light was almost blinding, coming up from the deeper tunnels of the Citadel and out into the Immortan’s landing. Slit had to shield his eyes a moment, but he wouldn’t let himself seem weak enough to truly need it. As he trudged up to see his Immortan, he felt his heart kick up a dangerous beat, and he preened silently at the knowledge that, no matter what, he was the Favorite. Sure, other Boys were jealous, some even tried to talk down to him, or insult him, but they couldn’t get him down. They usually ended up with a mouthful of blood and broken teeth, but that was something that just came with the territory. Arriving at the bedroom, he was surprised to find that he wasn’t there. Brow furrowing and mind a tad numb, he turned only to find the shining apex of his lifestyle smiling sweetly at him from his spot lounging in his throne.

“Slit! I was worried you wouldn’t show.” Oh, but he was nearly glowing, the sheer sight of him making Slit’s breath draw short.

“You know me, Nux, I’m good enough I can even keep you waiting.” He offered gruffly, slinking forward and letting his hips do that little snappy thing that Nux liked so much. To see his Immortan lick his lips nice and slow like that only made his blood pump harder, he could hear it in his ears, now. The resulting clash of teeth and tongue had a moan springing from one (or both, maybe) of them, and he delighted in the taste of blood. Suddenly, the rush of blood in his ears wasn’t the only thing he could hear, and Nux was choking, clawing at his neck…

Waking up with a jolt, he turned and grabbed his partner by the shoulders, shaking him awake and watching him come to with a few sleepy grumbles and a weak frown.

“Sl-slit?” Blinking several times, Nux peered up through the darkness at his Lancer, looking confused and hazy.

“You were-- You stopped--” Still a little foggy-minded himself, the elder male pressed their foreheads together, “I dreamt about you.” That put a little smile on Nux’s face, and he pressed his lips to the other’s for what seemed like eons, just a little smoosh of their faces.

“Shut up!” Came a very angry, somewhat accented voice from beside them, “I’m trying to sleep, go suck smiles somewhere else.” Grumpily rolling back over, Morsov huffed when he felt a boot tossed at his back. “I’m keeping this.” He added, only to get a second one to the head, “And this one.”

“Slit, stop throwing my boots, I’ll never get them back.” Nux whined, only to watch his barely clothed lancer rise and wrestle the boots back, leaving Morsov even angrier and probably ready to go sleep in the garage.

“Serves him right.” Slit muttered, coming back to lay with Nux, “Now get some sleep, numb nuts. We got a big day tomorrow.” Of course, his lover and driver was already snoring.

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It had been a sad day, when Nux had gotten sick. Even the Organic had been surprised when Larry started to grow in. Everyone bemoaned the shame it was that their best driver, the Blackthumb that could one day drive the War Rig, at this rate, had turned out to be an almost-dead Half-Life like the rest of them. Still, aside from the Boy in question, nobody took it as hard as Slit had.

He’d been getting his own tank refilled, some sorry bloodbag listening quietly as he grouse, when Nux, running on empty, had stumbled over. He fell to his knees and elbows a right mess, before his lance, who would have joked had the thinner man not looked up so pitifully. Instead, he looked around, surveyed the witnesses, and available space, before he decided to act. Standing and yanking his own needle from his arm, he let it bleed as he pulled his partner to his feet, manhandling him into his old spot. Hazy blue eyes looked up, a question on his furrowed brow, but Slit silence him with a slant to his eyes.

“Here, Numb Nuts, take my seat. Don’t look like I need an oil change half as bad as you do.” He offered, and as a clammy, shaking hand took his, he sat with the other, shocked into silence, himself.

“Thanks, Slit.” The near-dead War Boy whispered, only earning a grun in return.

“Don’t mention it, Nuts.” He’d never admit to maybe stroking the younger’s bald head as it hit against his chest.

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Nux had always had the misfortune of being too kind to his fellows. No matter what else needed done, food, sleep, rehydrating, the idiot would keep working if someone needed help. Slit knew this well, so when he didn’t see Nux getting fed, he only ate what was necessary for himself, saving four lizards and some weird, mushy lump that Ace called ‘potatoes’ for his Driver. His stupid partner would eat, even if he had to pin him down and cram it down his throat hole, himself.

“Numb Nuts!” Carrying his tin plate to the Chapel, he rose a brow, “I know you’re here, Nuts. Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

“Over here!” That was definitely Nux’s voice, coming from beneath Ted’s car. Not-so-tenderly kicking at a tire on his way over, the Lancer set the food aside, for now, and gripped the other’s hps. Yanking him out hard, a frown evident on his face, Nux was temporarily shocked into silence by the way the scars puckered Slit’s lips and cheeks, “Wh-what’s up, Slit?”

“Eat.” Somehow, in one fluid movement, Slit grabbed the plate off the hood of the car and set it in the other’s lap. “I saved a piece or two for you.” With a thankful smile, the Driver tucked into his meal under the watchful, appreciative gaze of his Lancer.

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It had taken three months for the two of them to heal. Nux hobbled about on a cane lovingly crated by Capable, seemingly from the tree they’d upended in the quagmire. His right leg, the one they now called his “bad” leg, nearly dragged behind him even when he tried to lift it. He’d been lucky, though. Slit’s skin was pinched and rippled, smooth and waxy in places, from the burns he’d sustained, but at least he was still alive. The pair didn’t speak as much, as of late. Slit liked to ignore him, or sit in an only-slightly tense but companionable silence, and it was killing his younger partner.

“I’m… Sorry, for your loss, Slit.” It was the only thing he could think of to say.

“Oh, yeah?” Came the gruff reply, “Which one?”

“All of them!” Hearing the other’s voice seemed to have sparked something in him, because Nux was suddenly unable to stop from manhandling Slit into his lap and running his mouth, “I’m sorry about the Wives, about Joe’s death, about showing why it was wrong, why he was wrong, about your burns, about everything. About the blood bag, about losing you in the storm…” As he spoke, his hands felt the dips and valleys of the other’s flesh, pulling and rubbing in defeat, “I’m sorry you can’t look me in the eye anymore, that you won’t talk to me. I want us to be how we were, before all this. Inseparable. I miss you. I miss us, and I’m the most sorry that everything drove a wrench between us.” By now, their foreheads were pressed together, and Slit knew that if he didn’t so something soon, Nux would never stop talking.

Kissing his once-lover, though it probably wasn’t his smartest move. The Driver pushed into it like he had an eternity for it, gripping his Lancer’s scarred cheeks like his last lifeline. The way he clung only made it seem more like he was trying to rid them of their bad blood between them, and Slit just let it happen. Soon, his own lips picked up the feverish pace of the younger, and for a moment, nothing else mattered. For the first time since their return to Citadel, he felt at home, and it was enough of a balm to his emotional wounds to leave him chuckling as he pulled back.

“Alright, alright, Nuts. I get it. I… Missed you, too.”

“S-so, we’re okay, right?” Those blue eyes lit up and he couldn’t stop himself from grinning.

“Yeah, we’re good.”

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“Hey, Slit!”

It wasn’t uncommon to hear the shout of the Lancer’s name on his Driver’s lips as he surged through corridors and open space alike, excitement bubbling in his every atom. He zinged about like a madman in search of his favorite War Boy, all wild blue eyes and waving arms.

“Slit!” he called again, cupping his hands around his mouth like a speakerphone, “Slit! I found something!” More heads turned his way as he passed them by without notice, but as soon as they saw the glowering mass of muscle heading for his Driver, they parted like the red sea.

“What do you think you’re doing, Numb Nuts? Huh? Telling everyone?” His eyes narrowed even more, and Nux suddenly realized that maybe Slit wasn’t named that for his scars, or his cheeks, but for how his eyes looked when he was thoroughly pissed.

“I… I was just trying to tell you! I found a--” A hand promptly clamped over his mouth, the next few words garbled before he finally closed his mouth and sighed, those dejected puppy dog eyes softening the elder man’s expression to more of a fierce sneer than a full-on snarl of rage.

“Tell me in our bunk, Nuts.” With that, the larger male pushed past his Driver, nearly knocking him (and his find) over with the force of it. Not even a second passed before he had turned and bolted off after the strutting man before him, excited to show off the object wrapped up in cloth in his hands. Jogging along in the jaunty way he did, he reminded a few older Boys of dogs running at their masters’ heels, but none would risk saying so in front of Slit, especially when he looked about ready to chew some heads off.

“Slit, can I--”

Bunks, Numb Nuts.” Snarled the elder once more, those eyes nearly closed they were squinted so hard. Of course, the growl on his lips was hardly enough to shake his happy pet, who ran to their bunk and leapt onto it, scooting back to the rocky ledge behind it and grinning, allowing Slit as much room as he wanted. The elder slid in, cool and calm despite the, no doubt, roiling lake of rage hiding behind his dark aquamarine eyes.

“Slit,” now, despite himself, he was whispering, eyes focused and so intense that it nearly took the cool edge off of the elder man, “I found this really shiny fruit.”

Pulling it from its cloth confines, the deep green fruit nearly shimmered in the light, certainly from one of the deeper pools hiding within the catacombs of the Citadel. When only one was showed off, however, the elder’s frown deepened and his brow furrowed.

“Just one?”

“Yeah! You can have half!” Nux wasn’t above sharing, and anything that could make Slit happy with him was worth it. This seemed to make his partner smirk, and he rolled his eyes before leaning forward and taking a bite, long and slow, some of the juice dripping down his chin and onto their bed. Some stray drops made it to Nux’s hand, only to be licked off by a skillful tongue, leaving him gulping as he leaned in to take his own bite.

“Mm… You’re making a mess, there, Nuts.” Whispered the elder, leaning in to lick the stray droplets from the other’s chin and lips, capturing them in a soul-searing kiss.

He’d have to find more of these fruits, if this was what he’d get out of them.

Chapter Text

“Oi, Numb Nuts.” Slit paused, tossing a glance over his shoulder, “I found this. I was gonna keep it, but… Seeing that you’re nearly dead as it is, you need it more than I do.” It came off as a grumble, almost quiet enough that Nux couldn’t hear him. Coughing a little, he turned and glanced away, strutting over to his partner and holding out the leather jacket he’d picked up, “Take my jacket, it’s cold outside.” Trying for a small smile but ending up in the realm of creepy grins, he winked slightly before leaning in and kissing his excited lover’s lips. With that, he was off to get ready for war, gathering his thundersticks and preparing his perch.

Nux stood for a moment, giddy excitement thrumming through him, as he felt his tingling lips with shaking fingers. Today was going to be lovely, just lovely. With a whoop and a holler, he allowed himself to be escorted to his car with his blood bag, getting hitched up and ready to drive.

Chapter Text

Glancing between the clock and the line he was stuck in, Slit tapped his foot impatiently, a scowl on his face that made the chatty woman two people behind him tell her phone she’d ‘call back later’. It was past time for him to be off work. He was supposed to be home by now, and every second he was stuck in this godforsaken line at the DMV to renew his boss’ car tags only inflamed his rage further. The large, tinted glass wall that the door lay in seemed to darken further as a torrent of rain began to pour, lightning the only thing lighting up his face as he growled under his breath, snapping the pencil he held in half. Someone whimpered and he couldn’t even take pleasure in it, he was so pissed.

“So, what’s the difference between a class A and a class B--” Oh no, that lady was going to be jabbering away at the clerk all fucking day. With a grunt and glare bordering on murderous, he clapped his hand over his face and dragged it down slowly, trying to focus his rage on something else. Focusing on the sketchpad in his hands, he finally sighed and began sketching away--using his broken pencil--as he stood in line. A shark appeared slowly on the page, curling around it, jaws agape as a figure very akin to the woman wasting his time tried desperately to swim away. A small, vindictive smile worked over his lips, only to fall seconds later when the monotone voice of some teenaged kid behind him hit his ears.

“Wow, man, did you draw that?”

A thousand and one answers came to mind, but he knew that if he caused a scene here, he’d be even later to get home to Nux. Gritting his teeth and taking in a few slow, deep breaths, he finally offered a twisted smile that may have leaned a little too close to a sneer, his scarred cheeks only making it look more intimidating.

“No, dumbass, I’m just carrying around a sketchpad full of art by other people. Yes, I fucking drew this. I’m pretty sure you watched me draw it.”

“Oh, uh… Well, yeah.” Slit felt his eye twitching, and the desire to punch this toasted strudel in the dick only rose to a feverish urge the more he rambled on as though he had anything interesting to say. At least that awfully shrill woman finally got booted out on her ass, and the line moved forward one person. Which left another seven in front of him. Another growl left the disgruntled mechanic as he settled back into his art.

By the time he was able to leave, he was an hour into overtime, and he still had to drive the car back (a half hour trip), and get his ass to the bus stop. Nux was going to think he’d abandoned him or something, with how late he was going to be. Knowing this did nothing to quell his temper, and it helped that he could play some of his friends sickest jams on the stereo system in his boss’ car. Yelling along to the music had him in a slightly better mood when dropping it off, even if Joe’s impatience left him feeling defeated by the time he was stomping to the bus stop. Of course, he had to catch the last bus of the day, which didn’t hit his and Nux’s street for a good hour and a half, and he finally rolled into lobby at 7:45. Jogging to the elevator, he pressed the button and chewed his lip, unhappy with the nervous butterflies flapping around in his stomach and stirring up the acid there, burning its way up his esophagus.

Shouldering his bag again as the elevator dinged and the doors opened up to the fourth floor, he stalked to 407, key in the lock, and knob turning before he computed just what was happening. Opening the door, what he saw nearly sunk his heart to the bottom of the ocean.

Nux was asleep on the couch, dinner set out on their dining table and candles burned down to the base helping to set the mood. This was like one of those horrible movies that tried to make you feel bad because the other half was late, and he was, and he knew it, and as he stepped over to the couch, he felt his heart seize up. Those blue eyes fluttered open, the slighter man sleeping much lighter than usual, and he offered a semi-sad smile and those damn puppy dog eyes that he knew Slit couldn’t resist.

“Slit, I’m--”

“Sorry I’m late, Nut-- Nux. I had a real tough time getting back.” It was now that those blue eyes roved over his soaking boyfriend’s form, and the good-natured mechanic hopped up and stretched wide before pecking the other’s forehead and shuddering.

“Slit, you’re frozen,” he murmured, hands pushing at the leather jacket he wore, finding his drenched shirt and tugging it up.

“Let me get you all warmed up.”

“You aren’t mad?”

“At you? Never,” he breathed, kisses trailing down Slit’s neck and chest, hands quickly working him out of his clothes.

“Happy anniversary, Numb Nuts.” He chuckled, a groan heading it off.

“Happy anniversary, Slit. So happy you could make it.”