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“Now, now, dear scientist, why don’t you get your nose out of that book and pay some attention to me~?” Gaz leaned over Christian, who stared intently at the dog eared pages.
“Later,” He mumbled, trying to absorb himself in the written words before his eyes. “I’m getting to the good part…”
“Is that book made out of helium?”
“P-pardon?” Christian looked up.
“Because you won’t put it down!”
With a moan, Christian dropped the book in his lap and slapped his face. “That pun was terrible and you know it…”
Wasting no time, Gaz took advantage of Christian’s loose grip on the book and snatched it up. Christian sat upright and reached out to stop him, but his hands flung out too late. Gaz spun around, flipping through the pages of the literature.
“Mmm…a romance novel? How fascinating!” He skimmed the words as his thumb brushed against the yellowed pages. “A young princess searching for her childhood friend and prince charming…? My, my-OW!”
Christian blinked. “What’s wrong?” He stood up and looked over Gaz’s shoulder. His thumb faced them, revealing a thin red line cut through the skin, right in the middle. “Oh, a paper cu-don’t put it in your mouth!!”
Gaz flinched when Christian grabbed his wrist just before it entered his mouth. “Why? Everyone does it!”
“It can actually make it worse, with all the germs in your mouth and all,” Christian explained. “And your mouth is probably the worst place to put it.”
“So you’re saying I’ve got a dirty mouth~” Gaz teased, lowering his hand.
Christian merely rolled his eyes and turned around. “Stay right there and don’t move.”
“Or what?”
“…or I’ll tell everyone about your secret stash of-”
“Okay okay I get it!” Gaz hastily sat down on the couch where Christian once was. “Not moving, see? No reason to tell anyone at all, haha!” He nervously waved his hands in front of him.
Two minutes later, Christian came back with disinfectant and a band aid. He carefully dabbed the paper cut with a cotton ball as Gaz winced at the sting. A moment later gentle fingers wrapped his thumb with the band aid, not too tight, but perfectly snug.
“There,” Christian said. “Isn’t that much better?”
“Maybe…but it still hurts a bit…” Gaz’s eyes flickered mischievously. “…can you do something about it?”
“Like what?”
“Kiss it better~?”
“…no.” Christian replied while scooping up the band aid wrapper and used cotton ball.
“Aw, you’re no fun.” Gaz whined as he watched his friend walk away to a wastebasket and dump his handful of trash in it.
“I wish you’d stop swinging that thing around…” Christian threw over his shoulder as he hovered over a hot pot at the stove. He grabbed a salt shaker and shook it over the boiling concoction.
“Relax, my dear scientist, I’m a professional!” Gaz sung while playing with his prized crowbar. “It’s not like I barge into people’s mansions and break every expensive knick-knack they own with it! Besides…” He paused while holding one end of it to his chin thoughtfully. “…it did rid you of that pesky spider, no?”
At the mention of ‘spider’, Christian suddenly dropped the shaker into the pot, causing the scorching liquid to splash on his hand. With a cry, he jumped back from the stove while holding his wet hand.
“Owowow, hot!” He yelped.
“Scientist?” Gaz leaned over the counter, alert with an unusual note of concern in his voice. He saw Christian’s hand and raised his eyebrows. “Ohhhh…that’s probably gonna leave a blister…”
“Can you do me a favor and get some ointment?”
“W…what?”
“I can’t leave the stove unattended and I don’t trust you around it without supervision,” Christian waved his hand in the air, hoping to cool the burns. “It’s in the bathroom closet, forth shelf.”
“S-sure, but you owe me an extra helping of that soup for it!” Gaz barked while strolling to the bathroom. Under his calm, charismatic expression his mind raced, trying to conjure any information or memories on what ointment looked like, or how to use it.
Meanwhile, Christian stuck his injured hand under the sink faucet and turned it to cold. A waterfall of ice water hissed out, numbing the stings from the burns. As a chemist, he could usually avoid such injuries as burns but alas, arachnophobia took over this time.
When he turned the water off, he heard objects crashing down from the bathroom and a few curses. After turning the stove off-the soup was done anyway, save the salt shaker-he hastily walked to the bathroom and widened his eyes at the sight inside.
A pile of extra toiletries and other objects littered the tile floor, nearly reaching Gaz’s skinny knees. Mumbling more unsavory language under his breath, still oblivious to Christian, Gaz rummaged through what was left in the closet.
“Dammit, he could’ve been more specific…don’t even know what it looks like…”
Christian tapped Gaz on his thin shoulder. “Not now, Scientist.” He barked while pushing past bins of mystery objects. Then he blinked, slowly turned around, and nearly jumped two feet in the air.
“O-oh, hello Scientist! Haha, how do you do?” Gaz nervously tipped his hat and blindly reached behind him for something, anything to grab. His bony fingers curled around a cylinder shaped object, and he swiftly held it out in front of him. “Here you go, just like you ask-“
“That’s bug spray.”
“H-huh…?” He turned the can around and sure enough, a symbol of a dead insect was printed in bright colors on the front. “Oh, well, we all make mistakes from time to time!” Gaz sung, dropping the can to the floor. Meanwhile, Christian used his uninjured hand to dig through the pile at their feet and picked up a small container with a blue lid.
“This is ointment,” Christian explained.
“Yes, scientist, I know what ointment is.” Gaz planted his fists on his hips as he bluffed.
The other man sighed, wanting to drag his hand down his face. “So can you help me put it on my hand?”
“Eh…?”
“Please? Just…here I’ll show you.” Christian handed the jar to Gaz. “Open it up and put some on your fingers.”
Gaz paused, unscrewed the lid, and eyed the pale yellow substance suspiciously. After placing the lid down, he hesitantly dipped his fingers into it and held up the glob of ointment.
“Now smear it-gently-over my burns.” Christian held out his hand.
With a shrug, Gaz did as he was told and spread the gunk over Christian’s healing burns, feeling the other grimace as he touched tender, healing skin. For a split second he considered suggesting to ‘kiss it better’, but the disgusting ointment marinating Christian’s hand discouraged him.
“Well, now that that’s all done and over with…I believe you owe me some exquisite soup, my dear Scientist!”
“There’s no way I’m-cough-drinking that toxic waste! Now let me go!!” Gaz barked hoarsely, struggling as two of his henchmen held him down in his bed.
“Sorry Ringleader but-nng-this is for your own good!” Alice held on tighter, making sure her boss didn’t roll out of his rat’s nest while Caleen gripped onto the other arm. Meanwhile, sitting on a nearby chair, Christian unscrewed the lid of a dark medicine bottle and readied a silver spoon.
“I’m perfectly fine-cough, cough-it’s just a little cough!” Gaz protested. “Nothing to worry about! And no need for medi-ah…ah…ah…ah-CHOO!!”
“Bless you and hold still, Ringleader!” Caleen ordered, biting his lip when Gaz nearly slipped from his grasp. “You’re not in any condition to work with a cold!”
“I’m in perfect health! And you, Scientist!” Gaz threw a glare at Christian as he poured the bitter red liquid into the spoon. “I'm not drinking that stuff, you hear me?”
Christian paid him no mind as he turned and inched closer to Gaz, holding the spoon up to his mouth. “Open up.”
“Hell no!” Gaz turned his head to the side, but the spoon followed it. He continued to jerk his head away, pressing his lips tight together.
“Gaz, at this rate I’m gonna spill! Just hold still and-“
“Mm-mm!”
“-open your mouth-“
“MM-MM!!"
“Gaz, you’re acting like a five year old!”
“HMPH!!!” Gaz turned his head for the umpteenth time stubbornly.
“…fine. I give up.” Christian lowered the spoon, but with the light hitting his glasses ominously.
Alice and Caleen blinked blankly. As they relaxed their grip, Gaz folded his arms over his chest and eyed Christian curiously. Scratching his nose, he smirked as he boasted, “Good. See, guys? I’m the picture of heal-ACK!” He was cut short as Christian suddenly pinched his pointy nose and jerked it up. Before he had a chance to shut his mouth, Christian shoved the spoon into the back of his throat.
“MMF!!!”
“Down the hatch!” Christian quickly pulled the spoon out and firmly pushed Gaz’s chin up, forcing him to swallow the foul tasting liquid. He watched the gulp travel down his windpipe.
“Bleck!!!” Gaz spat as he wiped his mouth. “Are you trying to-cough-poison me?!”
“I’m trying to help you, for crying out loud!” Christian barked back in exasperation. He screwed the lid of the medicine bottle back on and slipped it and the spoon back into his lab coat pocket. Standing up, he grabbed Gaz’s shoulders and pushed him down against the bed. Then he grabbed the shabby, unwashed quilts and pulled them up to Gaz’s chin. “Now get some sleep.”
“But-!”
“Please?” Christian asked, one hand still pressed against the mattress. His eyes softened, begging for compliance.
“…oh, fine.” Gaz huffed while turning on his side, away from Christian.
The other man inched away from the rat’s nest, as if wary that Gaz would jump out at him any moment. Caleen and Alice did the same, slowly backing up.
“You guys can leave, you know.” Gaz rolled his eyes and pulled the sheets over his head. A few moments of quiet passed until he heard footsteps walk out of his bedroom and the rusty door creak shut. Now alone, he let the blankets slip down until he could stare at the opposite wall. Absently he smacked his mouth, still tasting the bitter medicine on his tongue.
Grinding his teeth together, Christian leaned against the fence as he limped forward, shivering as the cool night air surrounded him. The streetlights gave off a warm light, the man’s only guides to his location on this dark, lonely night.
But not lonely for long.
A cold gust of wind flew past him as if from nowhere. Yet it felt familiar, and soon enough a familiar, shady figure popped in front of him, smirking mischievously.
“Good evening, dear scientist~” Gaz tipped his tattered green top hat. “What’s a weak thing like yourself doing out at this hour?”
“N-none of your bussine-hsssss!” Christian hissed as he tried to move his left foot. Taking notice, the other man curiously knelt down to inspect Christian’s feet.
“Well, it would seem you have a sprained ankle, scientist!” He jumped back to his feet playfully and knelt forward. “Aha…let me guess; went out for a midnight stroll, and as cruel fate planned…” He spun around with a flourish. “You tripped, and sprained your pour excuse of an ankle!”
“…well, yes…” Christian limped past Gaz. “Now if you’ll excuse-“He hissed again, stopping in his tracks. Awkwardly standing on one foot as he leaned against the fence, he gritted his teeth together and shut his eyes for a moment.
Then he felt an arm curl around his shoulders and shift his weight to his right. Gaz slipped between the fence and Christian, and flashed him a cheeky trademark grin.
“Honestly, what would you do without me?” He pulled Christian’s left arm over his shoulders. “Come on, let’s go!”
“W-what…?”
“I’m helping you walk home, what does it look like? Dangerous to be caught alone at this hour, no? Never know what sort of…dangerous characters you might meet…” Gaz waggled his eyebrows. “Just lean on me, okay?”
With a gulp, Christian took a step forward, and let Gaz help him along. After a few steps, he gently grabbed Gaz’s hand draped over his shoulder.
“…thanks.”
“Not a problem, now pick up the pace! The sooner you treat your ankle, the sooner you can cook me a nice midnight snack!”
“…uuuuuuuugh…”
Digging his crude nails into the white porcelain of the toilet, Gaz lurched forward with a disgusting moan. As his puke fell into the water, he felt his blood rush to his brain in a buzz. He barely registered Christian hurrying back into the bathroom with water and towels. Wasting no time he put them down and knelt beside Gaz, gently collecting his brown hair in his hand and holding it back. After several more dry heaves, Gaz fell silent, and got the energy to look up.
“Here, drink some water,” Christian handed over the glass, and watched Gaz weakly curl his hand around it. He drew a shaky breath and gulped it down, sighing afterwards.
“That is the last time… I get dinner…from that dumpster.” Gaz muttered while the toilet flushed.
“Wait, what?” Christian let go of Gaz’s hair. “Dumpster?!”
Even in his drained state, he managed to give Christian a sarcastic glare. “Oh, please, scientist, surely you’re not that dense? What, you think I go grocery shopping like everyone else?”
“I-I’m not stupid!” Christian barked back in defense. “But…at least y-you’re not stealing food…right?”
“I leave that for-cough-my underlings…” Gaz croaked. “Every now and then I just grab myself a little sna-uhg-“He heaved, and ducked his head back into the toilet. Ugly vomit spewed out of his mouth again, staining the water a hideous shade of brown. Through the horrible haze, he felt Christian rub a hand up and down his back.
Once his stomach finished pumping its contents out, Gaz heaved a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. He saw Christian hand him something from the corner of his eye, but he was too tired to lift his head. Then Christian placed a hand on the side of his unshaven face and tilted it towards him, raising the mystery object to his chin. It was a fresh yellow towel, and Christian wiped it gently over Gaz’s face, cleaning the mess of vomit.
“…how do you feel?” Christian lowered the towel.
“Like hell just chewed me up and spat me out.”
“I think the worst of it is over…” He stood up and held out a hand. “So let’s get you to a bed.”
Gaz blinked at this sudden act of kindness. He didn’t have the energy for a comeback or flirty comment so he merely sat in silence and stared.
“Gaz…?”
“F-fine, whatever,” He mumbled and clumsily grabbed Christian’s hand. Clasping his fingers around the other man’s, he pulled Gaz up to his feet and let him lean on him as they walked out the door.
“…thanks…”
“What?”
“Nothin’…”
The snowflakes glided gently to the ground, glistening in the pale moonlight and warm street lights. Three fresh inches of snow covered the sidewalk in a perfect, smooth slate of white.
Well, ignoring the footprints and trail of blood, of course.
Gaz ran past the streetlamps, carrying Christian in his arms bridal style. Slowing to a walk to catch his breath, he looked at the lanky bundle in his arms. Blood trickled from Christian’s forehead and dripped down his chin while the moonlight shone off his broken glasses, hanging limply on his nose. He hissed as another drip of blood fell from the bloody injury in his lower abdomen. The cool air turned his breath into little clouds, each one more strained than the last.
“You just had to go and look for me there of all places, didn’t you?” Gaz said through gritted teeth, his arms growing numb from the weight.
“W-well, you shouldn’t be getting yourself into-ngn-dangerous situations like that then…” Christian winced, his breath catching in his throat.
“Bah, forget talking,” Gaz spat, keeping up his carefree act as if nothing was wrong. “Just shut up and hang on.”
“W-where are you taking me again…?”
“The Catacombs, where else?” Gaz picked up his pace. “Like a doctor up here would help at this hour…” And in the presence of a street rat, he thought.
Gaz suddenly stepped on a hidden patch of ice, slipped, and fell, collapsing on the cold ground. Cursing, he spat out a mouthful of snow and propped himself up on his arms, looking at Christian.
“Scientist!” He scrambled to Christian’s sprawled out body, staining the snow a vibrant red. His arms slipped under the weak man’s body, feeling him wince at the movement.
“N-not so rough…!”
“Well, excuuuuuuuuuse me, scientist!” Gaz held Christian in a sitting position. “Taking care of people is your job!!” Then he noticed how hoarsely Christian panted, how the blood dyed the lower half of his sweater crimson, how pale his skin looked, even compared to the falling snow…
“Hey, scientist…scientist…”
Christian cracked his eyes open to look at Gaz, surprised at the lack of a mischievous gleam in his eyes.
“Y-you’re gonna be alright, right?”
“W-what? Why are you asking me?”
“You’re the doctor! You tell me!! Sure I beat the daylights outta some people but I’m not an expert at injuries!”
“I-it…” He hissed as he raised a hand to his bloody wound, feeling the warmth leak out. “I-it hurts…”
“A lot?”
“Uh-huh…”
Christian stared at Gaz’s face for a long, hard moment. Studying his unusually serious expression, the wet snow littering his shoulders and hat, the tired eyes glaring at the blood…
He gulped, steeling himself for what he said next.
“I-I’ll be fine, I promise.”
“You sure?” Gaz asked. “Or did that punk hit your head harder than I thought?”
Christian chuckled lightly. “Nah, it’s just a flesh wound, nothing serious…” He paused. “Still hurts though…”
“…hey.”
“Hm?”
Gaz suddenly tilted Christian’s chin up gently and bowed his own head slightly. “Want me to…” He inched a bit closer. “…kiss it better~?”
Christian’s eye went wide and his face burned as red as the blood on his hand. He blinked, then gulped, and croaked, “…o-okay…”
With a grin, trying to bring up the mood, Gaz closed the gap between their faces and pressed their lips together. Relaxing and shutting his eyes, Christian leaned into the kiss the best he could. Then his eyes cracked open a fraction, lost in a thought. A realization on how he felt more numb and tired with every second.
Weakly wrapping a hand around Gaz’s neck, he pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. Gaz’s eyes widened but then shut again, lost in the moment like a hopeless romantic. He sighed, feeling his warm breath grazing the other’s dry lips.
Then Christian’s hand fell, and his head hung back slightly, ending the kiss. Gaz opened his eyes, smirking as he saw the other man’s eyes still shut.
“Wakey wakey, scientist, we’ve got a Catacomb doctor to see.”
“…”
“C’mon, snap out of it.”
“…”
“Sciiiii-entist…”
“…”
“…scientist…?”
Gaz stared at Christian’s face, peaceful and still. Not even a cloud of cold breath came from his mouth.
“…y- you can stop p-playing dead now…this isn’t funny…” He shook Christian lightly, but his body remained as limp as a puppet’s. “Scientist? S-scientist, say something already! We don’t have all night!! Scientist!!”
Christian’s head fell to his shoulder, and his hands sat in the snow, growing numb. Eyes twitching, Gaz hastily held a finger to Christian’s neck, begging for a pulse.
He sat there with his hand against Christian’s neck for a full five minutes, but nothing came.
“C…Chr…Ch-Christian…?”
“…”
“…g…g-god dammit…” Gaz hissed while standing up, carrying Christian in his arms. “Now I gotta t-take you to a…an undertaker instead you…y-you…” His shoulders twitched and his mouth stretched into a frown, grinding his teeth together. “Y-you…you…”
He choked, and fell back to his knees, holding his head down. Fingers digging into the now cold sweater, he buried his face into Christian’s chest, mumbling the rest of his sentence into the wooly fabric. It absorbed his voice, tears, and regrets as he sat there in the middle of the sidewalk in the middle of a winter night, in the middle of a pile of blood stained snow.
“You goddamn idiot…”