Archive of Our Own ^beta

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guest’s muscles still ached— he’d been looping john doe for the majority of the last round, the relentless pursuit leaving him drained. his thighs were sore, a dull throb that echoed with every movement, and the small nicks and scratches on his body that he’d gotten from the killer weren’t helping. 

"where does it hurt?" chance asked, peering up from behind his dark sunglasses, the lenses reflecting the dim light of the room. a roll of gauze and a small medkit lay on the ground next to him. despite guest’s protests (and later, threats, which were more bark than bite), the gambler had decided that they’d help guest with their injuries, an insistence that bordered on stubbornness. 

"..it doesn't. I already told you that." guest responded, his voice strained, betraying his effort to remain stoic. it was strange, having someone caring for him after so long— it made his chest tighten. as chance’s hands trailed higher up guest’s thighs, the touch sending a fuzzy warmth through his body. he grew uncomfortably aware of the closeness. 

guest accidentally meets chance’s gaze, in time to see a glare be thrown at him, and he flinches.

 "don't lie," chance snaps, grip sliding further up his thigh, fingers firm, to push his leg back, granting better access. he pushed back the fabric of guest’s shorts, and the gambler’s gaze dropped to the small purple bruises from the other night. his thumb grazed over the sensitive skin of guest’s inner thigh, over the bruises.

"it’s here, yeah? that’s where I held you.” guest felt an embarrassed flush creep up his neck, warming his skin. then, chance’s grip tightened a little, thumb digging into the bruise just slightly, a deliberate pressure. guest grunted slightly, failing to hide the flinch of pain at the jolt that shot through his leg, a sharp sting that made him suck in a breath. chance flicked his eyes up at that, caught the reaction before it disappeared. 

"that’s what i thought." guest fought the urge to punch the gambler right in the face. his jaw clenched and he got out a strained, "you have three seconds to let go of me, chance." 

his words trailed off as chance used a hand to brush the blue hair out of guest’s face. "shh," chance coos. “you-” guest starts. chance’s fingers wrap around guest’s muscled leg, gripping the back of his thigh as he pushed it open so that he had better access to the bruising. "patience, 1337." 

chance gently wrapped his thigh with the gauze, and guest swore it wasn’t voluntary, but he felt his breath hitch, the air catching in his throat. vivid images crept into his mind. images of the gambler above him, spreading his scarred legs apart, blunt nails digging into the bottom of his thighs.

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guest had been quiet after the previous round– chance supposed it was because he’d been the last man standing. probably brought back bad memories for the former soldier.

now, the two were alone in the dining room of the survivor’s cramped cabin, and the tense silence was growing uncomfortable as the seconds passed. they couldn’t leave, either– after all, the other survivors were already asleep and had taken the bedrooms.

this was a dumb idea..it would probably end with a punch in his face, but chance approached guest, offering a hand to him. “here.” guest’s fogged gaze seems to refocus. The soldier turns to chance, and looks at his outstretched hand.

guest’s eyes darken, turmoil brewing in blue irises. “what?” chance said, tilting his head. “come on, just grab it.”

apparently, that’s all the permission guest needs. after a brief hesitation, he slides his rough, calloused hand into chance’s soft, open palm. it’s awkward at first, their hands pressed together without knowing where to put their fingers, until chance takes the initiative and glides down guest’s palm, tracing the lines before loosely interlacing their fingers together. 

when guest hesitantly reaches for his other hand, chance realises how big the other’s hands are compared to his own. guest’s skin is calloused, pleasantly grazing his skin, and his hand securely envelops chance’s.  it’s...strange, to say the least. guest hasn’t made skin contact with another robloxian in years. Just brushing hands with a stranger-anyone, really- would’ve made him all jittery, and yet- 

-chance’s hands are so warm and comforting that guest uncharacteristically melts in his touch, and even holds on tighter, just a little bit. “this,” chance’s mouth is weirdly dry, “is kinda weird.”

“..stop talking,” guest mumbles after a moment, and if the gambler didn’t know any better, chance would’ve thought the other man was embarrassed.  “..i mean, this feels kind of nice, actually. yeah?” chance absentmindedly traces a healed scar over guest’s hand.

“...yeah,” guest mutters quietly, then looks away.

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and he was kissing the taller man. one moment they were standing, guest nipping at his lips, and the next he’s pushed onto the rough-surfaced couch, guest devouring chance whole, hungrily pulling him in for more. his hand slides down chance’s back, resting at the curve of his spine; just barely there, then chance clumsily hooks his arms behind guest’s neck as the kiss deepens. 

chance lets guest have his way, lets him continuously coax his lips open and kiss him until he’s dizzy and weak in the knees, his dark sunglasses laying crooked on the bridge of his nose, a barrier to the intimacy. the room’s quiet except for the sound of the pair’s stuttered moans and soft grunts. chance’s muddled brain can no longer handle the shame nor guest, who hasn’t stopped trying to kiss him silly. 

guest is relentless, the soldier’s chapped lips pressing against chance’s own roughly, leaving the gambler breathless. he clings onto guest’s military uniform for dear life. 

“hah—” chance gasps in a breath when guest finally pulls back, their faces flushed. chance’s clothes feel just a bit too tight on him. above him, guest lets a small smile make its way onto his face— a rare thing in their grim surroundings. it’s contagious; chance’s lips curl up slowly, and he smiles, too. 

guest lets his head fall into chance’s shoulder, and the soldier takes a shaky breath. chance’s hand moves on its own, carding into guest’s blue hair. a gentle scratch against his scalp makes guest shiver. chance’s fingers begin a rhythm, and he feels the soldier subconsciously lean into the touch, seeking more. 

“..feels good, eh?” chance muses, and guest startles slightly, unexpected from a war-hardened soldier. chance huffs a soft laugh at that. “how’d ya get startled by that?” guest doesn’t respond, simply brings chance’s hand, which chance had taken out, back into his hair. chance obliges.

…chance wishes he could see guest’s face— hidden behind the head of blue hair.

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“you’ve drunk too much, haven’t you?” chance remarks as he struggles to support the other man against his side as they walk back to their apartment. the two were just back from a party that noob and guest 666 had hosted, and there’d been a drinking game. well, multiple of them. guest participated in only one, but the guy wasn’t known for his high alcohol tolerance.

guest’s words are slurred; “mmmhh… ah dunno wha’ yer sayinn’…” guest rests his weight further into chance’s body, and the said man grunts. “geez, you’re heavy.” guest doesn’t respond, nuzzling his nose into the soft skin of the crook of chance’s neck.  Shit shitshit shit why’s he doing this oh my god—

chance tries again, clearing his throat before stammering out;

“..c-can you let go of me? I-it’s just for a second...” it doesn’t work— guest’s hands trail down, fiddling with the hem of chance’s dress shirt. 

not long after, chance could feel the rough, calloused surface of guest’s uncomfortably warm fingers having crept up the soft flesh of his stomach, feeling at it. SHITSHITSHIT— chance was momentarily disrupted from his search for his keys, yelping at the touch as he turned to look down at the man clinging onto his side. 

..only to see guest’s eyes fixed right on his face like a curious cat. 

…cute. WAIT WHAT— “..yer cold.” guest says. chance snorts, ignoring the fluttery feeling inside his chest and the heat rising in his face. “well, yeah. compared to you, with that alcohol runnin’ through your system, i’m prolly a ice cube or something.” 

the gambler sighs, a small puff of air escaping his lips. "come on, guest, just let go real quick." surprisingly, guest complies, letting go for a brief moment to let chance fumble with the keys in his pocket, the metal cold against his skin. 

"i swear, if you weren't so out of it..." he muttered under his breath, finally managing to get the key in the lock. the door clicked open, and with a bit of maneuvering, he managed to get guest inside.

the apartment wasn't much; just sparsely furnished and decorated but it was home. he shuffled them both inside, leaning heavily against the door as he kicked it shut. "okay, let's get you to... somewhere." chance quickly tossed his suit jacket on a coat rack and kicked his shoes off, helping guest do the same with his shoes and dark navy jacket. 

chance flicked the light switch on and looked around, the dim lights revealing the cluttered space. the couch was the closest option, so he half-dragged, half-carried guest towards it, practically collapsing them both onto the cushions. guest landed with a quiet ‘oof’ but didn't seem to mind, his grip on chance's shirt only tightening.

"you're like a fuckin’ cat when you’re high," chance grumbled, trying to gently peel guest's hand away. guest whined a little, a low sound in his throat, and rubbed his face against chance's shoulder. that motion alone made chance’s face gain a pink flush. "oh, for..." 

chance gave up with a sigh. he looked down at guest, really looked at him, the dim light casting shadows across his face. his eyes were half-lidded, but they were definitely still fixed on chance. and the sheer depth in them scared chance. just a little.

"you know," chance started, his voice softer now, "you're not usually like this." guest just blinked slowly, still clinging to him like a stray. fuckfuckfuck i cant move—  

"usually you're all... stoic and stuff. all tough guy." he poked guest's arm gently, but the other man didn't react. "guess the tough guy act kinda falls apart after a few drinks, huh?" he chuckled a little, the sound echoing in the quiet apartment.

he shifted slightly, trying to get more comfortable, and guest's fingers brushed against the skin of the back of his neck, sending a shiver down his spine. it was just a touch, nothing really, but it made his heart beat faster. 

"what’s it with you?" he asked, more to himself than guest, and then, very slowly, he reached out and brushed a stray strand of blue hair away from guest's face. and that one motion alone— that makes guest’s whole face light up in a pink hue. oh. uh.