[The overflow of energy was calming down, but it was still there. Lighter stayed over in Maxima's space as he'd done a few times already. It was no big deal.
So he thought. His mind would always prevail with its dirty tricks.
A cheap bell is rung. Something grabbed from a flea market or something. Something they didn't bother to buy legit for something where bets are made. There was no glamour in the ring. Just cold ground or steel underfoot, jeers surrounding them and sweat, spit and blood falling off faces and mouths.
A flash of light after the bell and an amateur referee held up his arm. Another Victory. He blinked again to another bell, staring across a ring. It was someone different. Or maybe the same person. Someone with dark hair.
Another flash and he'd countered with a left hook square in their face. His arm was raised again. Then another flash, another man in the ring. How many times did it repeat, who knows. It didn't matter. What mattered was him winning. Getting that number down that seemed to grow every time he won. Seven digits into Eight into Nine.
Into a clear image of the next opponent introduced as "Lorenzo Fuentes."
And he woke up with a start, a sharp gasp not helped by him being somewhere unfamiliar. Not helped by him being somewhere where he couldn't see the outside. Where all he could barely tell was around was dark walls, a dim light and air that felt so deeply oppressive in the moment.
His first reaction was to roll out of bed in a panic and just voice his first thought.]
[Maxima isn't a heavy sleeper, thank goodness. When Lighter jolts awake next to him, it's enough to bring him out of his own murky dreams (12), but he's still barely conscious, not aware enough to realize there's a problem until the other man is rolling out of bed, clearly alarmed and upset.]
...Lorenzo...? [The calm voice that comes through the darkness is still heavy with sleep, trying to muddle his way through what's happening.] Are you...? [He's definitely not all right. Maxima can't see anything.]
I'm going to turn on the light. [He's still moving slowly, hopefully giving Lighter enough time to close or cover his eyes before he taps one of the bedside lamps so that they both turn on and give shape and clarity to the bedroom around them.]
[It was pure muscle memory that made him shut his eyes again before a sudden light could hurt them like hell. When he opened them, slowly and carefully, clarity started to settle in.
Right... right, it's Meropide. And he stayed over at Maxima's last night... That slow clarity needed a bit of backup for Lighter's breathing to even think about settling.
Easy, son. You're not there anymore.
Yeah... He sighed but at least sat back on the bed, rubbing his eyes and trying to take slower and deeper breaths.]
[Still fighting off the cobwebs of sleep, Maxima watches him return to the bed, trying his hardest to take in the nuances of the scene and process what's happening.]
You're all right. [Spoken in the tone of someone who's trying to make it be true by projecting calm. He's not totally sure how Lighter is going to react to touch in this state, but he can't stand to just sit and do nothing, so he reaches out to lay a careful hand on his shoulder, just resting lightly against the skin for now.] ...Bad dream?
[It's not like he doesn't have his fair share of those. If anything, it's just luck of the draw that Lighter was the first to wake up this way while they were together.]
[Thankfully, he didn't feel the need to pull back from that touch. It was a strange feeling that made his mind more clear. Sure, he's had people he put his trust in but not someone he felt calm enough around to relax after something like that.
The touch helped ground him more. Enough to give a weak nod.]
Yeah... [Another deep breath, exhaled into a deeper sigh.] I usually don't get like that after the fact.
[The benefit of having windows, even if they show the sea. He was really wishing he'd brought a pack of smokes with him right about now. Baizhu's gonna have his head at some point.]
[Fortunately for Lighter, Maxima is legally forbidden from snitching on him to his pharmacist even if he did take up smoking down here.
Since Lighter seems to be calming down a bit, Maxima will rub the back of his shoulder in long, soothing strokes. The gesture is meant to settle them both down, but he can't help but be aware of the scars on Lighter's skin as he does it.]
It's understandable. ...I always take some time to settle down afterward, myself.
[He lets silence fall and thicken between them before offering softly:] I won't ask you to speak of anything you aren't comfortable with, but...I'm here to listen if it would help.
[Lighter's knee-jerk reaction was to react poorly. To insist he was fine, but force his tone to stay neutral. But it wasn't like Maxima was forcing the matter. He could be that way, he could take an authoritative tone. But he wasn't, and it would be a real dick move to pull that after a guy had a dream that intense.
There wasn't a mean bone in this guy's body.
So after being silent for a while... Lighter spoke. He... he was not ready at all to share the whole story.
He'd share, but only a little.]
I spent a lot of time underground. In less than legal rings where people would place bets on the fighters. No rules of your typical boxing match down there, only enough to still make it a show.
[A humorless huff of a laugh.]
You don't get a lot of natural light in places like that, you know? Guess I'm still not used to how Meropide is.
[Maxima listens, expression dark and tight as he imagines what Lighter's describing to him. Fighting for show, for bets, for money, with no one caring too much about the state of the people in the ring so long as they can continue making more money...how many of those scars would have healed better if he'd been allowed to recover properly? The thought makes him feel a little ill.]
...I had no idea. [Although he had wondered, just a little bit, why someone of Lighter's skills took such care to avoid Meropide's boxing ring. The reason is only too obvious now.]
It must be difficult for you, down here. [He swallows slightly before asking the next question, as if reluctant. He doesn't really want to encourage Lighter to leave, doesn't like the idea of being farther away and seeing him less often, but...] ...Can I ask, haven't you considered moving to somewhere less...traumatic?
[Admittedly even that he was nervous to share. Or maybe he's just spent too much time around God Fearing Abuelitas in his life to expect a quiet reaction to his time underground.
He still enjoyed a spar, but he's not even so much as looked at the Pankration Arena. Even thinking about it made the memories creep in.
At that question though his brow furrowed. Well, while he was being half-way honest.]
I won't lie and say it hasn't crossed my mind. But it's a nice place down here, there's good people and good food. And you can't really beat not having to think about rent or utilities.
[It let him put a more tangible dent in all the money he still owed. But that... Lighter didn't think he'd share this echo of his past life with anyone except Belle...]
Besides, it's not like bad dreams like that come up all the time. The good outweighs the bad, you know?
[Just two to three times a month in the privacy of his own space.]
[He hates that he's relieved to hear that Lighter means to stay. His friend's well-being should be more important to him than his own comfort. But in the end, Lighter's chosen to be here, and maybe it's just not his place to question that choice.]
That does make sense. ...And I am glad that we get to enjoy your company, too. So long as it isn't at the expense of your health.
[It isn't about anything else except that...having Lighter around makes him feel like someone understands him. He's lived apart from others too, been seen as less than for things he can't help, concealed his kindness behind a careful mask so as not to be taken advantage of.
But he's starting to feel the distance between them. There are things he doesn't know and can't fix. Maybe one day he can find a way to make Lighter feel understood, too.]
[It's not a crime to be a little selfish. That's what Lighter would tell him if he knew the thoughts in Maxima's head. Hypocritical, maybe, given that he was so selfless as to take on that seven digit debt.]
Don't worry, I'll be alright. If I really wanted to leave I would have already done it. And even if I did, I've got people I'd pay a visit just about every day.
[Enough that you'd think he lived there anyway, sort of like that one angry cook in the kitchen whose name escaped him. Lighter liked the people here. More than any family he was part of.
Except maybe one... but he didn't know if he could call that "Lighter"'s family his own anymore. Not when he didn't remember them.]
Sorry about all that, I didn't mean to wake you up. What time is it even...
[The reminder of the hour also reminds Maxima that he's still a little fuzzy with the sudden awakening. He yawns widely.]
Whatever the time is, it's certainly not morning yet. We should both try to get a little more rest.
[He settles himself down a little more under the blankets, offering the other man his space back and watching Lighter with a look that's a little bit more pleading than he realizes, a little bit more than he would consciously offer if he was entirely himself, if he hadn't been abruptly woken in the small hours of the morning to intimately-held emotions.]
[Lighter took the pleading look to be a trick from his sensitive eyes. From both the brightness and the lack of sleep. Either way, he heeded that supposed trick and shuffled back into the offered space. He didn't realize how quickly he wrapped an arm around Maxima's torso after getting comfortable.
If he grounded himself with more touch, maybe he wouldn't need to continue that nightmare.]
[Maxima is more than willing to accommodate the contact as he gets comfortable. He taps the lights back off and then wraps himself around Lighter as much as he possibly can, as if he can use his body to shield the man from any more bad dreams.]
Rest well, Lorenzo. [The words are murmured against his hair, a wish cast into the darkness as they breathe against one another.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nebulously late august. cw ptsd
So he thought. His mind would always prevail with its dirty tricks.
A cheap bell is rung. Something grabbed from a flea market or something. Something they didn't bother to buy legit for something where bets are made. There was no glamour in the ring. Just cold ground or steel underfoot, jeers surrounding them and sweat, spit and blood falling off faces and mouths.
A flash of light after the bell and an amateur referee held up his arm. Another Victory. He blinked again to another bell, staring across a ring. It was someone different. Or maybe the same person. Someone with dark hair.
Another flash and he'd countered with a left hook square in their face. His arm was raised again. Then another flash, another man in the ring. How many times did it repeat, who knows. It didn't matter. What mattered was him winning. Getting that number down that seemed to grow every time he won. Seven digits into Eight into Nine.
Into a clear image of the next opponent introduced as "Lorenzo Fuentes."
And he woke up with a start, a sharp gasp not helped by him being somewhere unfamiliar. Not helped by him being somewhere where he couldn't see the outside. Where all he could barely tell was around was dark walls, a dim light and air that felt so deeply oppressive in the moment.
His first reaction was to roll out of bed in a panic and just voice his first thought.]
Get the fuck out...!
no subject
...Lorenzo...? [The calm voice that comes through the darkness is still heavy with sleep, trying to muddle his way through what's happening.] Are you...? [He's definitely not all right. Maxima can't see anything.]
I'm going to turn on the light. [He's still moving slowly, hopefully giving Lighter enough time to close or cover his eyes before he taps one of the bedside lamps so that they both turn on and give shape and clarity to the bedroom around them.]
no subject
[It was pure muscle memory that made him shut his eyes again before a sudden light could hurt them like hell. When he opened them, slowly and carefully, clarity started to settle in.
Right... right, it's Meropide. And he stayed over at Maxima's last night... That slow clarity needed a bit of backup for Lighter's breathing to even think about settling.
Easy, son. You're not there anymore.
Yeah... He sighed but at least sat back on the bed, rubbing his eyes and trying to take slower and deeper breaths.]
God...
no subject
You're all right. [Spoken in the tone of someone who's trying to make it be true by projecting calm. He's not totally sure how Lighter is going to react to touch in this state, but he can't stand to just sit and do nothing, so he reaches out to lay a careful hand on his shoulder, just resting lightly against the skin for now.] ...Bad dream?
[It's not like he doesn't have his fair share of those. If anything, it's just luck of the draw that Lighter was the first to wake up this way while they were together.]
no subject
The touch helped ground him more. Enough to give a weak nod.]
Yeah... [Another deep breath, exhaled into a deeper sigh.] I usually don't get like that after the fact.
[The benefit of having windows, even if they show the sea. He was really wishing he'd brought a pack of smokes with him right about now. Baizhu's gonna have his head at some point.]
no subject
Since Lighter seems to be calming down a bit, Maxima will rub the back of his shoulder in long, soothing strokes. The gesture is meant to settle them both down, but he can't help but be aware of the scars on Lighter's skin as he does it.]
It's understandable. ...I always take some time to settle down afterward, myself.
[He lets silence fall and thicken between them before offering softly:] I won't ask you to speak of anything you aren't comfortable with, but...I'm here to listen if it would help.
no subject
[Lighter's knee-jerk reaction was to react poorly. To insist he was fine, but force his tone to stay neutral. But it wasn't like Maxima was forcing the matter. He could be that way, he could take an authoritative tone. But he wasn't, and it would be a real dick move to pull that after a guy had a dream that intense.
There wasn't a mean bone in this guy's body.
So after being silent for a while... Lighter spoke. He... he was not ready at all to share the whole story.
He'd share, but only a little.]
I spent a lot of time underground. In less than legal rings where people would place bets on the fighters. No rules of your typical boxing match down there, only enough to still make it a show.
[A humorless huff of a laugh.]
You don't get a lot of natural light in places like that, you know? Guess I'm still not used to how Meropide is.
no subject
...I had no idea. [Although he had wondered, just a little bit, why someone of Lighter's skills took such care to avoid Meropide's boxing ring. The reason is only too obvious now.]
It must be difficult for you, down here. [He swallows slightly before asking the next question, as if reluctant. He doesn't really want to encourage Lighter to leave, doesn't like the idea of being farther away and seeing him less often, but...] ...Can I ask, haven't you considered moving to somewhere less...traumatic?
no subject
He still enjoyed a spar, but he's not even so much as looked at the Pankration Arena. Even thinking about it made the memories creep in.
At that question though his brow furrowed. Well, while he was being half-way honest.]
I won't lie and say it hasn't crossed my mind. But it's a nice place down here, there's good people and good food. And you can't really beat not having to think about rent or utilities.
[It let him put a more tangible dent in all the money he still owed. But that... Lighter didn't think he'd share this echo of his past life with anyone except Belle...]
Besides, it's not like bad dreams like that come up all the time. The good outweighs the bad, you know?
[Just two to three times a month in the privacy of his own space.]
no subject
That does make sense. ...And I am glad that we get to enjoy your company, too. So long as it isn't at the expense of your health.
[It isn't about anything else except that...having Lighter around makes him feel like someone understands him. He's lived apart from others too, been seen as less than for things he can't help, concealed his kindness behind a careful mask so as not to be taken advantage of.
But he's starting to feel the distance between them. There are things he doesn't know and can't fix. Maybe one day he can find a way to make Lighter feel understood, too.]
no subject
Don't worry, I'll be alright. If I really wanted to leave I would have already done it. And even if I did, I've got people I'd pay a visit just about every day.
[Enough that you'd think he lived there anyway, sort of like that one angry cook in the kitchen whose name escaped him. Lighter liked the people here. More than any family he was part of.
Except maybe one... but he didn't know if he could call that "Lighter"'s family his own anymore. Not when he didn't remember them.]
Sorry about all that, I didn't mean to wake you up. What time is it even...
no subject
Whatever the time is, it's certainly not morning yet. We should both try to get a little more rest.
[He settles himself down a little more under the blankets, offering the other man his space back and watching Lighter with a look that's a little bit more pleading than he realizes, a little bit more than he would consciously offer if he was entirely himself, if he hadn't been abruptly woken in the small hours of the morning to intimately-held emotions.]
no subject
[Lighter took the pleading look to be a trick from his sensitive eyes. From both the brightness and the lack of sleep. Either way, he heeded that supposed trick and shuffled back into the offered space. He didn't realize how quickly he wrapped an arm around Maxima's torso after getting comfortable.
If he grounded himself with more touch, maybe he wouldn't need to continue that nightmare.]
Night...
no subject
Rest well, Lorenzo. [The words are murmured against his hair, a wish cast into the darkness as they breathe against one another.]