Scribbles and Drabbles

SV - Trapped 3

A/N: Not really 3 so much as the next bit I have written. Jumping a bit in the timeline here. Horus and his men go to Llaughy, find out that the person they are hunting has a partner. Webb. Quinn and Webb have history. Webb punches Quinn before heading back to the ship. Quinn stops Horus from attacking explaining Webb has every right to be pissed at him. Quinn goes to the ship, attempting to get more information from Webb about his partner. Webb is evasive. Quinn challenges him to a spar and here we are :)

"I won," Quinn grinned, teeth glinting sharp and hungry. Webb had seen that look before, long ago when they were both teenagers working off some serious steam. He bucked, attempting to get Quinn off him but there was no moving him. Quinn had him trapped completely.

"I yield," Webb said. He let his head fall to the ground, frustrated. All this time and Quinn was still stronger, still more skilled. Webb blamed being conscripted. He'd underestimated Quinn.

Quinn pecked him on the cheek and rolled off him. Webb's limbs fell to the ground and he stayed stretching out on the floor as Quinn pushed himself back to his feet. Muscles ribbing under his skin as he stretched and shook off the stress of the fight. Webb's muscles were yelling at him to the same but his chest was too tight. Something not quite fear was running through him. This wasn't like when they were teenagers anymore. Quinn was now part of a different culture and Webb hadn't thought that all the way through. There were new consequences for losing.

"Webb?" Quinn said, nudging his ribs with his foot, eyebrows furrowed. "You're not going to be a bitch about this are you?" He crouched down next to Webb's hand, poking his forehead childishly.

"Fuck you." Webb slapped the hand away, looking away at the wall of the sparring ring. The buzz of others training brushed against the edges of his consciousness. There was no shame in losing a spar, there was shame in backtracking on an agreed prize. No, he wasn't going to be a sore loser. He was going to take whatever Quinn did to him and deal with the fallout when this was all over. At least it was Quinn and not one of his unit.

There was a heavy sign. "Pretty sure, you don't want me to."

Webb lifted his head to glower at Quinn. A list of conflicting emotions building in his throat but none escaping yet. The expression he got in return wasn't quite what he expected. Quinn wasn't teasing. He was being serious.

"I can if you're willing? But you know," Quinn offered his hand to help him stand, returning back to his feet. "As you pointed out, I'm not Axium and neither are you."

The was the crux of it, wasn't it? All of this was because of some backwards piece of culture that verged on illegal in so many powers. If Webb and Quinn had met before the Ideon incident, they would have shouted and yelled and fought for honour. After some of the bitterness might have faded but they would have parted again. Now they were stuck together until Ideon and Webb separated. Webb had no intentions of breaking up with his love because his love had potentially got himself trapped in a contract.

Webb took the hand and let Quinn pulled him to his feet. The wording was vague. Quinn was right. They weren't from Axus. Fucking a defeated partner was not baked into them, even if the similar culture valves made it easier to adjust to. Ideon was going to struggle more. Quinn yanked him close into a hug, hands slapping his back and jostling them both.