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“One more… I’ve got money for it.” A lazy finger taps on the wooden bar, almost like a gavel within a judge’s hand. Albeit, the mercenary asking for yet another glass of alcohol is far from the integrity and respect of that judge. Polar opposites, if you will.
The bartender could only silently sigh, the cool toned mercenary had been one of the last few that night, along with two inphernals who you could assume were a couple staring at each other and giggling drunkenly. It seemed so dumb, the mercenary would roll his eyes at the image of them, like a child to their parents kissing, in an immature manner.
“Do you have a ride home, Hyperlaser?” The bartender asked, knowing he was far too gone to go home safely. Hyperlaser tilted his head up, his visor on his helmet shifting slightly up to drink the alcohol he was recently handed.
“Nope, why? You wanna drive me on home and kick my ass for being here all day…?” Hyperlaser spoke with harshness in his voice, irritated by such a dumb question. Sure, his apartment was probably another 10 miles away, and that’s a bit long for a drunk man to walk, but he would stay alive.
“No… I can call that friend of yours. That is, if you need someone to get you. You’re not staying the night here.” The bartender offered, moving over to the old house phone sitting by the wall of liquor. “Just give me his number.”
“I can do it myself… Hand the damn thing over,” Hyperlaser extended his hand, his knuckles popping from how tense he was in the moment.
“Fine by me.” He could only comply with the drunken mercenary. He didn’t want to start trouble with Blackrock, after all. Hyperlaser dialed up his friend’s number, feeling a side eye from one of the barely legal inphernals, who then shook their head and went back to talking with Goo-Goo eyes.
“Hello?” A voice in the tone of a contrabass spoke over the line, it sounded a little sleepy, with gravel and sluggishness within the vocals. Hyperlaser nearly smiled at the sound of him, the friend who he would die for multiple times, since once wouldn’t be enough for him.
“Hey ‘Tana… Mind picking me up? A little bit too much tonight,” Hyperlaser practically begged. He heard shuffling of sheets, which ensued a mumble of an apology from the mercenary. “I will be there in a moment, see you soon.” Katana, the befriended one, spoke with sincerity and drowsiness in his voice. Hyperlaser couldn’t say anything until the other hung up, which made him feel rather bittersweet.
The mercenary handed back the phone to the bartender, now paying off his tab and waiting for his ronin friend. He considered the term “friend” to him, however he never knew how far that stretched into acquaintances or lovers, is “friend” an umbrella term? He shook his head, far too deep into his thoughts. Maybe alcohol at 00:19 was not that good of an idea. He fluttered his eyes shut, a small nap might help him subside until his reason reached him once again.
He was rudely awoken by shaking on his shoulder, he could feel sharp talon-like nails poking at his jacket. The ronin above him said his name quietly, but with authority, catching the mercenary to finally wake up. His hands were shaking as he pushed his body to sit upright, his head still drooping but looking to the side to see an owl based mask on his left.
“Sorry… Got tired.” Hyperlaser spoke groggily, he could hear a huffed out laugh from Katana. His hand still resonated on the other’s shoulder, leaving Hyperlaser a little happier than before.
“Let’s get you home,” Katana held him around his torso, letting Hyperlaser lean onto him as he lifted him off the barstool. The ronin quietly apologized and wished a farewell to the bartender, who moved over to the couple, asking them to seek their way out. Hyperlaser slung his arm across Katana’s chest, taking in his rather built body like a cheer girl and her quarterback boyfriend. He felt so vulnerable, but very aloof when in Katana’s arms, he could wish to kiss him.
Katana fumbled with his keys to his vehicle, just an average sedan with a maroon paint job, and unlocked the car. He opened up the passenger door first, placing Hyperlaser down in the seat, who looked back up at him dreamily. Katana eventually ended up in the driver’s seat, about to place his keys in the ignition.
“‘Tana… I love you.” The words spoken from the younger man caught him off guard. He furrowed his brows a bit, looking at his drunken friend with kindness and nothing more. “I love you too, Hyperlaser.” Simply as a friend would say. It made Hyperlaser’s heart drop to his stomach, quickly retaliating his words to emphasize their meaning.
“Not like that, dumbass… I love you. I wanna marry you n stuff.. Have a life together, I love you more than I love myself, but that’s not enough either…. Fuck.” Hyperlaser’s voice intensified as he moved over the center console, gripping onto the unrequited ronin’s arm. Katana looked at him with such confusion, thinking about his words. He wished to stay quiet forever, but that wouldn’t be possible. The drunk mercenary looked at him with silence, the ronin couldn’t see his eyes behind the mask, but they both knew their stares bore into each other, hearts scarred by them.
“You’re not thinking straight. I— Let’s get you home. We’ll talk in the morning.” Katana silently pushed Hyperlaser away, a terrible feeling of guilt panging in his chest. He knew his truth: He didn’t feel the same way. But by god he also knew that Hyperlaser clung onto him like velcro, being the only inphernal he knew close enough to touch without a flinch. His hands quivered around the steering wheel, eventually starting the car and pulling out of the bar’s parking lot. He could feel Hyperlaser’s eyes burning into his head, iron sights on a sniper. It was fitting, Katana being the target, with Hyperlaser as the assassin, it’s funny, no?
God bless for Hyperlaser being drunk out of his head. If he were any more sober, he would’ve rather shot himself in the head with his own gun, or jumped out of the car to get run over, or anything to possibly kill himself. His head was a typhoon of thoughts, roaring towards each other with sloppy connections due to his intoxication, all considerations of how far he truly fucked himself sideways. He felt so angry, so sad, and yet so emotionally exhausted all in one go. He wanted to punch himself in anywhere it would bruise, he wanted to get onto his knees and sob his eyes out. He would spend the car ride biting his lip until it bled, lick the blood away, and start biting his cheek instead.
The silence was incredibly thick. You could tell they wanted to say something, but not a word was spoken, the music was mute, yet so ear piercingly loud. They wanted to hear the other’s voice, a reason, an apology, a phrase spoken at all. But it would stand still, like the silence of the last shot within war, where you have the afterglow of it all, and it makes you incredibly scared. Katana would tap his nails on the steering wheel, thinking of anything to say, as Hyperlaser would gnaw at the flesh in his mouth, trying to gain some sense, yet far too gone in emotional intoxication to understand that all is a lost cause.
The apartment complex was reached after an eon (12-15 minutes). Hyperlaser didn’t reach for the handle, but rather sat there, finally not eating at himself. “What do you mean..?” He spoke, in a soft, cracking tone. He was silently crying. The ronin looked at him, cocking his head. “What’s your answer, ‘Tana.” Hyperlaser announced with a little more authority, but not enough to cut deep into Katana. He knew he would never reach that level, especially now.
“I just value you as a friend. Nothing more. You’ll regret this in the morning, so I won’t mention it to you the next day, unless you ask so kindly.” Katana replied. It was one of sympathy, but one of truth. Its honesty was disgustingly obvious to Hyperlaser, stinging him with the venom of truth onto his ever so wishing heart. He didn’t even want to say goodbye, he just wanted to go home. He got out of the car, slamming the door slightly too loud. Katana’s brows furrowed, with his hands running over his mask with exhaustion laced between his fingers.
Hyperlaser practically stormed to his apartment, fists clenched so tightly you could hear the leather squeeze. “Regret this in the morning… My ass… I regret nothing.” He opened the apartment door, slamming it, and throwing off all of his clothes, his helmet, everything that was on his body. Everything that he ever touched. Princess, his cat, curled around the corner, walking up to her distressed owner. He looked down at her, tears welling in his clouded eyes. He couldn’t take all of the emotions anymore. He slid down to the floor, curling his knees close to himself. Princess cuddled close to him as he bawled, he would claw at his skin tightly. Going to sleep didn’t seem so bad, as long as he forgot this all, one way or another.