Scribbles and Drabbles

Notebook Drabble 44 - The Council's Bane 3

Tad remembered that last time they'd been like this. When Sasaki kissed him to mock that fact, he failed to slip away as he boasted earlier in the fight. He couldn't remember if it was a good kiss or not. He remembered feeling branded, feeling owned. He also hadn't kissed since. 

Sasaki exhaled, pulling them closed and resting his head on Tad's shoulder. Tad let him. "If we'd known what would happen, we would have fought harder to keep you," Sasaki said, voice soft despite its possessive edge. 

"We wouldn't have signed the papers if we'd known their plans."

Sasaki's forehead pressed harder against his skin before pulling back, Sasaki twisting them to face each other, one leg wedged between Tad's as he locked them together in a close hold. Sasaki's hand found his and held it. Tad hunched, nervous by the change in arrangements and tried to meet Sasaki's glaze. 

"You're blushing," Sasaki said, a hunter a little too pleased in its prey's reactions for Tad's comfort. Tad scowled, but it didn't stop the warmth building in his cheeks. He tried to duck away, but his lips found his and the answer to his question became evident. Sasaki could kiss well. He didn't kiss particularly deeply or passionately, but it was gentle and reassuring but claiming. 

Tad groaned as Sasaki pulled away. 

"I'm very pleased to find you healthy and well, even if the news you bring is bleak. We worried."

"I let everyone down," Tad said, wincing as Sasaki kissed his knuckles. He's been the first of the elite squad to be officially found unless others had without him noticing. He missed being connected openly without termination hanging over his head. He was first, and he was about to set off a domino effect with the others who walked free. At least for those who would be recused from the Institute, he could say that living under the Emperor's hand proved kinder than death or being crippled beyond repair.

"I doubt they will see it like that. We have eyes on others, but your mod made you a priority," Sasaki's thumb rubbed over his knuckles, tracing where his lips had pressed. 

Fighters were important. Tacticians and support staff were vital to any operation, but communications glued everything together. Tad's breathing turned uneasy. Being a priority never meant good things. Dangerous suited his mod better. 

"We are safe here for the night. No one had noticed our reunions. I prefer to keep it that way. Tomorrow, we will relocate you to headquarters where the Institute can't touch you." The words rang firm as if they were orders. They slid under Tad's skin, and a flare of anger burned. He fought in a war for the right to be free. He'd lost, all of his friends and comrades had lost, and Sasaki won. Should he fight against this? Did he have the right to?

If it meant saving his friend's lives, what did his own wills and wants mean? Also, he didn't have a partner or anyone to uproot. He had less than most to protest this. 

"Do we need to pack much?"

Tad's reply involved a slow blink as he looked over his meagre possessions. "I have a bug-out bag. Maybe bring the blanket if it's our own accord. It was expensive to buy," Tad stood, pulling out of Sasaki's grip to pull the bag out of the cupboard and dump it on the floor by the door. He ignored how his body turned cold without Sasaki's heat. "There was a war. I try to keep anything important ready to move."

"Nothing wrong with being practical. A few of ours struggle with owning more than they can carry."

There wasn't an answer to that. Tad studied the room again, but nothing jumped out at him. Most of his furniture was salvage or standard issue with little to no difference from another house. The long-last civilian in him mourned his lack of self in his environment. Owning more than one could carry became a luxury in wartime.