hardlydead | (( them gods gonna hurt you son; when you play with a loaded gun ))

[ david's agreement is almost a comfort, or it would be if it didn't make him want to fight again. evan manages to keep his annoyance to a grunt. because at least he is getting an agreement. an acknowledgement that they shouldn't be the ones managing this shitty low-level gruntwork.

why them? he has some theories. none of them make him particularly happy to think about. ]

Do what you're told.

[ this isn't an order, even if the words are arranged like one. it's directed more to the drink than to david. more a reflection of evan's entire upbringing than anything else. they both do what they're told. both do what other people decide they should be doing.

there's no saying no for them, at least when it comes to certain people. ]

Probably just want to keep us out of trouble.

[ like they're children. like they'd fuck it all up otherwise. ]

[ keep us out of trouble makes the anger surge, makes his grip tighten around his drink. not at evan, but at the way it brings to mind several spirited conversations with his father. always something to criticise, always some way he'll never be good enough. ]

Just can't be trusted, I guess.

[ like evan, he says it more to his drink than to the other man. honestly david wouldn't be surprised if that was the case, just can't trust him not to fuck up something this precarious. ]

[ there was a woman who'd been making eyes at him that david had thought of inviting back when they were done here, but this whole conversation has him filled with a miserable sort of anger he sees no outlet for. him and a bottle later instead, it seems. ]

[ can't be trusted. their own fucking sons. the people they trust for everything else, who they know they can depend on to do things right, they way they should be done ... can't be trusted with this?

the anger surges back up, but it's not directed at david for once. evan wants to aim it there, wants to throw the glass right at david's face, but without the smug smirk or sarcastic, gloating tone of voice, he can't quite find the target. besides, he knows how that'll end.

evan seethes, then finishes the rest of his beer probably too fast and stands up. this was a bad idea, but at least there's some kind of plan in place. ]

Let you know when we're ready.

[ or whenever the right time is. whenever that gets determined for him, since he's not able to do it himself, apparently. all these years. all this work.

he storms out without another word, or, notably, without even considering a punch. he just wants to put distance between them so he can go find someone else to beat the shit out of, and then crash until the next assignment gets handed to him. so he can ignore all this shit until such a time as it's necessary to deal with it again. ]

[ david lifts his head just enough to watch evan storm out, a dim cloud of his own hanging above his head. there just has to be some other explanation for this, for being treated like low level grunts instead of people who've spent a lifetime being taught and working toward being the best. it's not nepotism that had them climb to the top, neither of their fathers are that giving. david has worked hard, sacrificed plenty, fought and killed and bled for this. ]

[ is he really worth that little? still? ]

[ he goes home once he's finished his own beer, a date with a bottle of whiskey and a morning after with a hangover, and then it's back to work like their chat never even happened. like these doubts aren't still lingering under the surface. just getting on with it until evan gets in contact to set things up. ]

[ day of he's kind of looking forward to having a punch up at least. trying to focus on that rather than the fact it's going to get cut short or what this shit means. why he has to do this shit instead of anything that matters. though he does spare a thought to think on the fact that evan storming off the other day lends some believability to this whole thing as he arrives with his guys. dressed a little more flashy than he would like for a fight, but it sells the whole thing. ]

[ evan's frustration only grows through the days, almost weeks, until he finally gets word that it's his time to act. and it's almost just a word, one passing remark not even from his father, but from one of the other trusted - mostly trusted - lieutenants: tomorrow. be ready.

it drives him into a fit of fury, not even hearing it from his father himself, but he manages to keep from doing more than smashing a few chairs. keeping the anger down inside usually has no benefit, but now it does. tomorrow he can unleash it all on david.

by the time he's out smoking with a few others who know the plan and a scattered handful who don't, everything's stopped boiling and smoothed out into a flat, calm pool of rage. depthless and dangerous. david's arrival, dressed too nicely for this (but isn't that the point?), a little posse around him (aren't they supposed to be there?), as if the whole world belongs to him.

their sullen conversation at the bar is still bubbling in the back of his head, but it's easy to ignore that now. they might both be better than this, but a fight is a fight. and everyone knows that, outside of the occasional bar, evan macmillan and david king fight like rabid dogs whenever they see each other.

one of his men nudges him, selling it by pointing out where david is as if evan hasn't seen him. he takes another slow drag of his cigarette and lets out the smoke even slower, waiting until david's in range to hear. ]

This ain't your street.

[ it's expected, sure. planned, more or less, but evan's "greeting" makes a genuine anger spike in him all the same. like this asshole gets to tell him where he can and can't go? bullshit. ]

[ it makes the rage from these last months surge, hot and renewed, comically easy but for the fact david's basically had it in a choke hold the entire time. never gone, just subdued. silenced. even now, he doesn't let it show immediately — though evan's tusselled with him enough he can probably spot the shifting tension just below the surface — pauses on the spot and turns side-to-side just a little as if looking around. ]

Oh, sorry. Yours is it? [ david tilts his head, looks past evan with a mock frown ] You got a sign, or...?

[ one of his guys snorts behind him, but thankfully the lot of them have the wherewithal not to gas him up for a mediocre retort. david isn't sure he'd be able to stop himself turning around and punching them if they did. ]

[ looking at david now, it's like they never met to discuss this. never even considered a plan. all the rage starts seething again, the embers smoldering, ready to burst back into life and set the whole street ablaze. just because david's there. just because he looks like that. just because of the way he responds.

that's probably the best outcome. it won't look staged. nothing about this will look staged. even the fact that he was waiting, because hell, who knows? maybe he got wind that david was coming and went out specifically to beat the hell out of him.

he narrows his eyes at david and drops his cigarette, grinding it out under a boot. ]

You know where the lines are.

[ he wants his tone to be sarcastic, like he's surprised that david's stupid enough to forget - even though this street is a little closer to neutral, especially given who's taken over most of it. but it comes out as a growl. he can feel the tension behind him from his men, who know he's ready to fly into a rage, who know they have to back him up but only to a certain point.

that's not the problem. it's stopping him that'll be the trouble. ]

[ david looks down at the ground, as if expecting to see an actual line. there's no need for all this silly shit, it's not like evan's hard to bait into a fight even without it being pre-planned, but who would david be if he didn't take the opportunity to be as obnoxious as humanly possible? ]

Things're kinda murky out here these days, y'know?

[ david takes a step toward evan, pauses and gestures to the ground between them. one of his guys reaches out to stop him, wary of provoking a fight, but one of the others stops him. ]

Help me out-- is it here? Or, uh... [ he takes another step, gestures to the ground again. ] Here?

[ a slight smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth when he looks back at evan, eyebrows raised in a challenge. how much of this is evan gonna allow before he gets too pissed and has to swing? ]

[ it's a stupid joke. not a funny joke. one meant to make him look stupid. without the planned fight, he'd have gone straight into things anyway. david's so good at infuriating him. even with their last meeting having ended on what was almost a common ground, he can't stop seeing someone he wants bloody and bruised underneath him.

the rage bubbles up, but he still has a handle on it. for the moment.

he starts to cross the street to where david is, and people start pulling away. his anger is a clear thing, and regular visitors around here know how to recognize the signs. none of his men make to pull him back, but they keep their distance, even the ones who don't know what's coming. ]

You know exactly what I mean.

[ it's a growl. a prelude to a lunge. an attack dog straining, leather collar about to snap. ]

[ there's something so satisfying about winding evan up, even after all this time. shouldn't be, it's neither new nor difficult, but something about it just feels good. makes a smile cross his expression that settles into an amused smirk when evan approaches. ]

[ david slips out of his jacket and hands it off to one of his guys before they back up out of the immediate danger, david paying little open attention fo the growl in evan's voice or the violence on his face. of course in reality he's watching intenyly, waiting for that lunge so he can try to block it and swing back straight away. ]

You're gonna have to show me.

[ and he winks, just for good measure. ]

[ the wink sets him off. david probably knew that would happen. that's probably why he did it.

despite years of people trying to teach him how to handle himself, how to ignore bait, how to not do what he always wants to do, evan can't stop himself. he wouldn't be able to stop himself his father was here, telling him not to do it.

there's not much distance to cross now. he hurls himself at david, a punch already coming, ready to attack. he's almost completely forgotten that this is staged, which is probably for the best. the more real it is, the better a distraction it is, and the two of them tearing each other apart for real is ideal.

but he wants david dead right now, which isn't. that's what the rest of his guys are for. they hang back for now, ready to jump in if david's do, but it's rare that anyone interferes with a fight between the two heirs to the crime families, mostly out of the interest of not getting ripped in half. ]

[ david's ready for him, of course he is, and if it were just about anyone else that would be enough to have the outcome of this decided already. evan isn't just about anyone else though, and despite himself it gets the blood pumping a little more than usual. everything except how badly he wants to put this man in the ground forgotten the second he lunged. ]

[ he braces himself for that hit, arms raised to block it, and there's no hesitation when david swings back. takes the opportunity to throw his arm around evan's neck to pull him in and try and get a couple of hits in on his face, his side. whatever he can get in before evan breaks his hold. ]

[ his fist lands on david's arms. as he's trying to bring his other fist up for a followup hit, david launches back, nearly hits him, and as evan tries to duck to avoid the blow david drags him in.

the hits send his skull ringing but he's used to this. he gets an arm up between himself and david and wrenches, breaking them apart after a few more blows, and follows it up with a swinging elbow to try and crush something - a jaw, a nose, cheekbone, even his shoulder, whatever he hits is fine. the other hand's already reaching out to try and get the front of david's shirt. to drag him in for a headbutt, the crown of evan's skull against any part of david's face he can land. ]

[ the elbow hits his chin, disorients him enough he can't do anything about being pulled into that headbutt, hears more than feels the way his nose cracks and starts bleeding. that's no big deal though. david's better when he's in pain, always has been. ]

[ david throws a palm up to hit under evan's chin, doesn't bother trying to break his hold, instead using being pulled in close to really lay into him. plants himself solidly and starts in with the body blows, wraps an arm around him to try and get a couple in to his kidneys. ]

[ the blood spurs evan on. he doesn't like being in pain, but he's used to it. that's another place where he and david differ. bearing with something instead of reveling in it. he's always hated david's feral, bloodstained grins when things get rough. hated the idea that fighting was fun for him.

the blow to his chin makes his teeth crash together. disorients him long enough for david to get him close enough for a series of hits that make his vision flicker. the pain doesn't clear anything, but they're this close, and that means he can get in just as much damage. and he tries, with both fists, with a knee to the hipbone, with his skull. by keeping his hold on the front of david's shirt and twisting it, trying to throw him off balance.

the street's clearing, as expected, with yells and a growing crowd at the edges. his men are keeping their distance, watching uneasily, some wondering out loud if they should get weapons out? but the answer from those who know is no, just stay put, this is between them. ]

[ there's some jeers from people, he assumes evan's guys, who think that the fact that david's bleeding and evan isn't means things are decided already. he barely hears them, focused on the blows evan's laying on him. on his next move. ]

[ evan wants to throw him off balance, but david refuses to budge until he can pull evan with, even if that means standing there taking more hits than he'd normally allow, both of them beating on eachother until david thinks he senses a moment and rears backward to try and rip himself out of evan's grip, bringing an elbow down on his arm for good measure. ]

[ david twists with him, and then as evan tries to get a fresh grip he breaks free. smashes his arm on the way, making him let go of david's shirt with a snarl, but his fingers are still half-twisted in the fabric and it rips as he pulls away.

the sight of his chest is an appealing target. break his ribs, see them break. or more likely his collarbone, since that's most of what's visible. but his arm is still throbbing, so he swings with his other arm, going for david's head in a move that seems too obvious even for them. a sign of his uncontrollable rage? or a feint, as he kicks out at david's knee, trying to break it, make him limp, or at the very least get a little distance?

they didn't need to plan anything. this was going to happen one way or another. ]

[ the punch is too wide, too slow. david lifts his arm to block it, expecting something else, but what he's expecting is another punch or for evan to close the distance. the kick is a surprise, doesn't damage anything, but it still fucking hurts. makes david stagger back a couple steps out of instinct. ]

[ he's not smiling, but there is something wild glittering in his eyes all the same. bright and unbothered by the busted nose and torn shirt. there's just something different about fighting someone who's actually on his level, something that makes the rage burn hotter but also makes the whole fucking thing that bit better. sweeter. david wipes at his face with the back of his hand — though it doesn't do much other than smear blood across his cheek. ]

[ and then he launches himself back at evan almost immediately, refusing to let him have any breathing room, even if maybe having some himself might be a good idea. tries to throw him off a little with a shoulder check first before he starts swinging. ]

[ the space is brief. it's not enough to recuperate. but it is enough for evan to spit blood onto the pavement, wipe his jaw off despite the stinging pain, before david's rushing at him again. blood smeared on his face, sweat dripping, bruises already forming, his skin red and raised. eyes fixed on evan with a bright, intense violence.

evan lets him shove him back with the shoulder check but doesn't go down yet. he skids back, then locks his knees and takes the first two punches before ducking under them and trying with everything he has to get his arms around david's waist and hurl him to the ground. if he goes with him, fine. the intent is to get him down and curbstomp the hell out of him, but he doesn't expect it to be that easy. it's never that easy with david king. ]

[ the second evan's arms go around his waist, david throws an arm around his head in response, hugging it to his body to make sure evan comes with him when he falls. drives down with his elbow, trying to get as many hits in against his head, his neck, wherever as he can in those moments before he's off his feet. ]

[ david braces himself for the fall as best he can, but it still hurts. he grunts, arches in pain a little involuntarily, but he tries to maintain that hold on evan's head and keep hitting him for however long he can until things change. at least if he can disorient him a little, it might make getting out from under him a bit easier. ]

[ evan braces against the grip. he'd do the same thing. he'd do worse. it means that when he throws david he goes down, too, but he was hoping he could deal with it, expect that, and get his head out in time.

but he doesn't. he goes down hard, as hard as david does. tries to rip himself free, and when that doesn't work, he tries to crush david's torso in his grip while at the same time trying to get david on his back.

it's difficult with the blows raining down on his back, his spine, his kidneys. and with his arms caught he can't protect or retaliate. he just tries to squeeze as hard as he can, because even if he can't choke his breath out he can still hurt him. rupture something, fracture a rib if he's lucky. ]

[ he keeps going as long as he can, but eventually the pain is too much. david's pretty sure he feels something give that's gonna take a decent while to heal, but that can wait. he has to get out of this grapple before one of those injuries become serious. ]

[ evan's trying to get him on his back, he can feel each push and tries to resist them. tries to push back the other way, get him on his back instead. there's noise from onlookers that filters through — cheers, backseat fighters, concern. one of his guys makes a move but is stopped before they can make a mistake. good. — and something about it makes him double down. ]

[ doesn't care so much about getting evan over anymore, but he's got to get that grip to loosen. moves his arms to get a grip on his head with both arms to twist and push. it won't break, not unless evan is the unluckily man on earth with the most brittle spine, but the hope is it'll force him to move and let up his grip. ]

[ the strain on his neck gets his attention for once. david's trying to kill him. no - he's trying to get him to let go by threatening to kill him. both thoughts clash in his head as violently as he's fighting with david. he's trying to kill him. he should be trying to kill him. evan should be trying to do the same -

as the attention focuses on the pair of them, people move in on the headquarters. infiltrating the place. taking down people too distracted by one thing or another, or the fight outside, to realize what's happening. work that neither one of them could ever do, no matter how hard they tried, no matter how much it burns them.

evan snarls something vulgar and lets go, ripping himself free from david's grip and instantly going for a beatdown. still trying to get him on his back and then smash whatever he can see into a pulp, or get his hands around david's throat to choke him out enough to make him recoil. do something. do something to make him regret. do something to make him glare up at evan with something other than smug confidence and the self-knowledge of who's about to win, here. something. anything. ]

[ the thought that evan might be even more relentless than he is goes through david's head, makes something in him twist and writhe violently. there's no way. there's no fucking way. ]

[ the reason they're here is, at this point, a distant thought at best. it'll come back to him eventually. maybe. when somebody rips them away from one another, maybe they'll remember. all he can think right now is if he lets evan get that kind of upper hand, it'll be a lot of hard work to get out of. and as much as he's not paying attention to their audience, it doesn't mean david's forgotten they're there. taking a beating like that, in front of all these people? if he can avoid it, he sure fucking will. ]

[ when evan's grip lets up, when he pulls himself free, david rolls to his front instead to try and push himself up to his feet. if evan jumps him here, it'll be easier to deal with at least. ]

[ every attempt to get david down, other than actually getting him on the ground, has failed. and now he's trying to flatten himself to protect his vitals. his face. evan tries not to completely lose his shit - or at least what's left of it - in the wake of this. everything he does, david tries to undo. tries to one-up him on.

so he lets david roll and push up and as david pushes up, evan slams an elbow down onto him. low enough that he hopes with every ounce of rage in him that it hits a point right over his kidney. not close enough to the spine to actually turn this into a life-or-death fight - well, at least any closer than it already is - but enough to hurt.

he tries to follow it up with a rain of blows to the rest of him, his shoulderblades and neck and the back of his head, to smash his face into the ground when he tries to rise. tries as he goes to get on top of him, or at least over him. ]

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