I Wish My Enemy a Placid Love (Welcome to the Punch, Jacob Sternwood/Max Lewinsky, Guilt/shame, 15) 3/4
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“…We’re bad people,” Max decides eventually, his mouth setting into a line. He still doesn’t seem quite sure about it, the storm fails to abate and grows simply more violent instead, “and we’re bad for each other. Neither of us have any business being in a relationship, us dating is a recipe for disaster that doesn’t bear thinking about.”
He nods over these points, finds them true. Also finds, for the first time in twenty odd years and isn’t that a shock, that he doesn’t quite care about the truth – would rather toss it to the side in an entirely irrational way, “Why would we be bad for each other? Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think that we’ve actually been rather good for each other over the past few months. You saved my life, I saved yours, you allowed me to avoid prison, I broke you out of it...”
“We ruined each other’s’ lives,” Max corrects him. Flatly. His mouth remaining in a line as he stares stubbornly up, “you shot me in the leg and condemned me to aching pain and a general lack of running for the rest of my life.”
…That is a slightly better point. He can’t help a slight wince at it, a tighten of his fingers, “sorry-“
“And I forced you to leave the country and stay lost due to my unhealthy obsession,” Max only goes over him with a sigh, a slight quirk up of the line of his mouth – he looks a little resigned, the facts of their lives weighing them both down so surely that it’s a wonder they aren’t pinned to the bathroom floor, “healthy relationships are supposed to involve neither of those things, and that’s a fact.”
He considers for another long few seconds before he finally manages words. The facts still weigh him down, the guilt presses even harder “…I’d rather say normal relationships.”
“Healthy, normal,” Max arches an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitches yet again, “aren’t they the same thing?”
“No-“
“Largely,” Max interrupts again, the quirk practically becoming a fact of his face – he considers kissing it to shut the man up, only narrowly restrains himself due to reasons of sanity, “for we are neither. You dragged me into an absurd gangster situation involving the smuggling of guns and several severe breaches of the law.”
“That-“
“And I dragged you into an absurd corruption situation where the politicians were evil, my boss was evil, and most of my colleagues seemed to be ranging from mildly malicious to working for Satan,” he’s getting a little tired of not being able to talk. Max sighs softly over him, another thing that is becoming far too much of a habit – briefly jerks his wrist in his grip before realizing and reluctantly easing yet again, “again, not things that healthy relationships involve. Or normal ones-“
“Would you let me speak?” He interrupts this time, charges on as Max is blinking – well aware that speed is apparently of the essence, “I don’t want a normal relationship-“
“But you should want a healthy one” …Though speed apparently isn’t enough. The man darts in again, a certain determination rising in his eyes that he can already tell is going to be an annoyance, “one that doesn’t involve having to break your boyfriend out of prison before fleeing the country with him, never to return. Do you hear any celebrities with that story? Have you ever seen any of your friends in such a situation?”
“I have a wide circle of friends,” he protests stiffly, trying his very hardest not to break into a glare and ruin everything, “and you’re not listening, I like being unique.”
no subject
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“…We’re bad people,” Max decides eventually, his mouth setting into a line. He still doesn’t seem quite sure about it, the storm fails to abate and grows simply more violent instead, “and we’re bad for each other. Neither of us have any business being in a relationship, us dating is a recipe for disaster that doesn’t bear thinking about.”
He nods over these points, finds them true. Also finds, for the first time in twenty odd years and isn’t that a shock, that he doesn’t quite care about the truth – would rather toss it to the side in an entirely irrational way, “Why would we be bad for each other? Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think that we’ve actually been rather good for each other over the past few months. You saved my life, I saved yours, you allowed me to avoid prison, I broke you out of it...”
“We ruined each other’s’ lives,” Max corrects him. Flatly. His mouth remaining in a line as he stares stubbornly up, “you shot me in the leg and condemned me to aching pain and a general lack of running for the rest of my life.”
…That is a slightly better point. He can’t help a slight wince at it, a tighten of his fingers, “sorry-“
“And I forced you to leave the country and stay lost due to my unhealthy obsession,” Max only goes over him with a sigh, a slight quirk up of the line of his mouth – he looks a little resigned, the facts of their lives weighing them both down so surely that it’s a wonder they aren’t pinned to the bathroom floor, “healthy relationships are supposed to involve neither of those things, and that’s a fact.”
He considers for another long few seconds before he finally manages words. The facts still weigh him down, the guilt presses even harder “…I’d rather say normal relationships.”
“Healthy, normal,” Max arches an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitches yet again, “aren’t they the same thing?”
“No-“
“Largely,” Max interrupts again, the quirk practically becoming a fact of his face – he considers kissing it to shut the man up, only narrowly restrains himself due to reasons of sanity, “for we are neither. You dragged me into an absurd gangster situation involving the smuggling of guns and several severe breaches of the law.”
“That-“
“And I dragged you into an absurd corruption situation where the politicians were evil, my boss was evil, and most of my colleagues seemed to be ranging from mildly malicious to working for Satan,” he’s getting a little tired of not being able to talk. Max sighs softly over him, another thing that is becoming far too much of a habit – briefly jerks his wrist in his grip before realizing and reluctantly easing yet again, “again, not things that healthy relationships involve. Or normal ones-“
“Would you let me speak?” He interrupts this time, charges on as Max is blinking – well aware that speed is apparently of the essence, “I don’t want a normal relationship-“
“But you should want a healthy one” …Though speed apparently isn’t enough. The man darts in again, a certain determination rising in his eyes that he can already tell is going to be an annoyance, “one that doesn’t involve having to break your boyfriend out of prison before fleeing the country with him, never to return. Do you hear any celebrities with that story? Have you ever seen any of your friends in such a situation?”
“I have a wide circle of friends,” he protests stiffly, trying his very hardest not to break into a glare and ruin everything, “and you’re not listening, I like being unique.”