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

[ 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. ]

[ it's not far off what he was expecting from evan, but the hits combined with evan's weight on him still make him fall back flat, knocking the air out of him with the force and the pain. the first hit was a fucking killer, everything after that makes it fucking difficult to gather himself enough. david snarls, hisses a curse, just barely manages to keep his head up enough to stop evan smash his face against the ground. ]

[ david takes a deep breath, growls as he pulls his hands in closer to stabilise himself and starts pushing himself again. a growl rumbling in his chest as he manages to get himself up on his knees, powering through the weight on his back, the hits that should by all rights put him flat on his face. ]

[ despite everything he's doing, david's getting up. evan can feel it, pushed up as david goes, trying to keep his balance without giving up a single hit. and he's losing. somehow david's just - getting back up. relentless. always fucking relentless in this kind of shit. never willing to stay down when she should.

the fury boils over as he tries to grind david's face into the pavement with no success, and instead he lets go to climb further over him and clamp both hands around david's neck. thumbs pressed against the back of his spine, fingers curled around his throat, squeezing like he can rip david's head off right where they are. ]

[ david gets as far as on his knees before he feels evan's hands around his neck, squeezing like he could pop his fucking head off. some of the cheering from onlookers has turned to concern, he can hear it. the kind of turn when you realise it's not just a fight, that one or both of these guys are gonna end up dead if somebody doesn't do something. ]

[ they think it's gonna be him too. fuck that. ]

[ it's difficult to breathe, borderline impossible, he sucks one in through a wheeze and it burns the whole way down. it's hard not to give into the instinct to try and rip out of evan's grip, but he knows better. reaches to grab one of evan's wrists and try to pull it away, his other arm he throws back his elbow to try and hit evan. to wind him, push him back, whatever he can do. ]

[ he wants him dead. has for years. and right here, right now, maybe he can do it. it's not the way he wanted it to happen, but he'll take it now, bloody and bruised and a concussion already well on its way through his skull. he wanted to beat david into a pulp, see his face ruined, his chest caved in. but this is going to be enough.

but david's not giving up, because when does he ever? he fights back. it's what they both do. he grabs and pulls at evan's grip, which doesn't do much, and slams an elbow back, which does a little more. more than a little more.

it hits his stomach over a spot already sensitive from a series of blows earlier and while evan's grip loosens just slightly, between the hit and david reeling back to deliver it, the main result is that evan drops back, dragging david with him. the grip is still tight but loosening, and now he's on his back. but at least david's still struggling. doesn't have the upper hand yet. ]

[ the face david makes when evan drops back would probably be comical in any other circumstance, wide-eyed surprise for a split second before his body bows backward. still struggling for breath, still disoriented, vision dark and blurry at the edges. ]

[ he's gonna kill this man. he's gonna cave his fucking face in with his fists, beat him until he's nothing more than ruined meat. david snarls, makes a quick decision he hopes pans out, because if he fucks up here then he's fucked. ]

[ he throws his weight backwards, trying to land all of it on evan — wind him, hurt him, anything — another elbow or two. anything he can do with the hope of getting out of this, maybe managing to turn himself around so now he's the one on top with the upper hand. but fuck it, he'll taking getting out of evan's grip before it turns into a grapple if that's all he can get. ]

[ david lands on him, hard. it's enough to wind him, make him choke on his own breath as it's forced out of his lungs, makes him loosen his grip enough that when david starts to land blows again he lets go out of instinct to defend himself.

and then david's trying to turn himself around, get on top, get in a position where he can beat evan down. exactly what evan was trying to do. that can't happen. he can't let that happen. he won't let that happen.

he tries with everything he has to wrap one arm around david's throat - not quite the crushing grip, but still a grip - and punches upward again. back into that same spot he landed his elbow not so long ago. against his side. his ribs. the easiest places to reach like this.

and, without thinking, he bites. david's ear is in reach and everything in him wants blood. it's not his best moment, but then again, what is? ]

[ he keeps that grip on evan's wrist, keeps trying to pull, make some kind of space. falters at that first hit into his back, but david grits his teeth, keeps throwing that elbow back into him, plants his feet to push his weight down on him. anything he's got to hurt him. ]

[ the bite is what does it. the way david practically roars in pain and shock, pure instinct in the way he moves like he's trying to shove evan away, but he can't in the position they're in. something about the scene activates the onlookers, though david's in too deep to really be fully aware of what happens or in what order. ]

[ there's hands on him, multiple people pulling and shouting and david's swinging, yelling at them to get the fuck off him, trying to tear himself away and rush back at evan. all fury and bloodlust as he tries to keep this fight going. ]

[ the taste of someone else's blood both shocks him and spurs him on. he lets go almost instantly once the blood hits his tongue, but part of him wants to do it again. get his teeth in david's neck and rip out a chunk, make him collapse, make him bleed out right here, right in the street.

but then david's being dragged away, and he's getting shoved, and then he's being pulled. evan forgets that this was a setup and fights like a wild animal to get back to the fight. it takes four of his own guys, and a hard kick to the side of the leg by someone who knows he'll get away with it for once, before he's far enough away for sense to settle back in.

but it's not enough. he's cursing, yelling, trying to get david to break loose and come at him just so they have an excuse to jump him as a group. but david's guys know what they're doing, too. david doesn't break free. evan doesn't, either. it doesn't help that all he can see is red. ]

[ one of david's guys is thanking his lucky stars they had the forethought to make sure the guys they brought for this were picked for strength and durability rather than anything going on in their heads, somewhere between the number of them it takes to pull david back and one of them getting a broken nose for the effort while david's lashing out like an animal. ]

[ they drag him away, far enough he can't just throw himself back at evan the second he's loose, and like evan, david is cursing and yelling the whole time. staring bloody murder at the other man. practically begging for an excuse. ]

[ one of them stands in front of him once they're a good distance away, trying to block david's view of evan and talk him down. mostly because they don't want to fight him all the way back. it works well enough, david at least settles enough they can let go of him and he pulls himself away, still pissed as hell but at least not immediately about to try and run the distance between them to start fighting again. much as he wants to. ]

[ he pulls his ruined shirt off, uses it to try and wipe up his face. it doesn't really work and it hurts like hell, which really just pisses him off even more. ]

[ what finally stops evan, even after they've decided he's calm enough to let go, is someone telling him flatly your father wants to talk to you.

it freezes him like it always does, realigning his priorities, making dread his top priority. with david blocked from his vision, he doesn't have the focus of his rage anymore, and so he loses all that anger pretty quickly.

or at least most of it. there's still a lot inside, waiting to get back to the kill, raging that he didn't draw more blood.

he doesn't wipe himself clean, except to try and hide a few more obvious marks. he'll get yelled at for that. it should have been all him beating down david, not taking any hits. but as they leave in sullen silence, he thinks: it worked, right? it had to have worked. had to. ]

[ similarly the panic that sets in at hearing he has to regroup with his own father is familiar, but never any easier. the more observant among his entourage pretend not to see it, the way david's back stiffens and he clenches his jaw, nods as he accepts the bollocking coming his way. there's going to be something. a lot of somethings. why'd you take so many hits? he better look worse. why was a fight even necessary? david glances back at evan, (well, at his group,) spares half a moment's thought to wonder if it's the same for him. ]

[ they leave — one of the more senior guys has to give david a shove to make sure he doesn't linger and try to get back into it, but they leave. as far as anyone can tell it worked, and it worked well. anyone who wasn't distracted by the fight or people talking about the fight was pulled in when david and evan really got into it. when it was clear the two of them wanted to put eachother in the ground.

even so, his mother's terse "look at the state of you," when he gets home pretty much sets the tone. she leaves, disappointed, and there's no congratulations from his father for successful work, not even a hint of a pleased expression on his face. just a quick note that the other team managed their job followed by a dressing down. it was "a poor showing", a "shameful display," they should be above fighting in the street like thugs. if he insists on fighting everyone, he should at least do it better. apparently macmillan's son wasn't nearly so... bloodied. ]

[ par for the course then. david lets that lie for the week, mostly to recover and let his bruises fade. or turn that horrible yellow/blue that they do. things have been weighing on his mind though, and he ends up reaching out to evan to ask if things are all good on their end. no idea why he does, probably just because he can't seem to get any details from his dad. ]

Edited (clarity) 2024-07-15 07:12 (UTC)

[ evan's reception at home is similar. probably louder, though. that he's the one with less blood and bruises doesn't matter. they saw you on the ground. with him on top of you. no, i don't care if you were about to break his goddamned neck. you know better. you're supposed to be better than that.

it stings him, but of course he doesn't argue, or fight back. just takes it and goes back to let the bruises seethe once he's dismissed. everything hurts for days, which is par the course, but he can't stand it. that he did what he was supposed to do and it still wasn't good enough. what else could he have done? could either of them have done? blow up a building? just yell at each other?

he sinks deeper into a miserable gloom right up until the day david texts him out of nowhere, which turns it into a miserable anger. why does he care? their work is done.

his response is short and to the point. that everything's fine. he hasn't heard anything else. which he hasn't, really. he assumes things are going well enough because his father hasn't been screaming at anyone lately. their fight was enough to do the job but not enough to make anyone think he's more than a mess.

after a while, he follows up the response. why ask? ]

[ why ask? david stares at that for a long little while. if there was a problem he would've heard surely? his father would never let that lie. the fact that he hasn't heard anything is a good thing. ]

Haven't heard much from your lot is all.

Just making sure things are good.

[ that's normal, right? it's a normal thing to say and do. ]

[ just the idea makes evan want to snarl, but he doesn't. hard to do over text, anyway. ]

When do you ever

You'd know if they weren't

[ there'd be a lot more shit flying around, for one. ]

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