Impractical Jokers: [Joker]x[Joker] Collection

Is it Luck or Gratitude? (Joe/Sal)

       A stupid prank. One too many laughs that had ultimately driven him to the centre of the road and in the way of a driver that refused to stop, thinking the man would move. He hadn't, hadn't been aware, and now he lays sprawled out on the ground, head in the lap of his boyfriend.

"S–Sal?! Are you–"

Words die. What the hell is he supposed to say? The poor man's been HIT BY A CAR, and he'd been considering 'are you okay?' to be a worthwhile question? Is he stupid? His mind plays tricks on him, shows him rivulets of blood when really there's only a graze along his forehead; it's a mess, of course it is, and the wound is nasty in itself, but he's not dead and that's all that matters to him.

"I–I told them to stop, I swear..."

Weakly, Vulcano looks up at him, vision hazy. He feels more dazed than he does hurt, more confused than he does wounded, and even his anxieties seem to have rushed to the tarmac for he doesn't feel even an inkling of his usual apprehension. In fact, there's something beautiful in the way Joe is looking down at him, gorgeous blue eyes wide with a mixture of terror and devotion.

Softly, he croaks: "I'm fine... it was just a shock..."

Gatto scoffs. Of course he'd be tentative about his situation now rather than when things were tiny. He's somewhat unimpressed with Sal's timing of it if he's honest... but then he remembers that he's been hit by a moving vehicle and he doesn't blame him so much any more. By now, people are crowding, just to get a glimpse of the scuffle before moving on; to know that they lose interest because he's not severely wounded - or worse - discourages the Joker slightly, has his brow furrowing before he focuses back on his face.

"Y–You asshole..." Joe mumbles, soft smile carved onto his face as he leans down, sweeping fingers tenderly over the wound on his partner's forehead and watching as he winces before pressing his lips to his forehead. "You should'a just forfeited... a lost challenge is better than a lost Sal."

"Nah," Vulcano replies softly, vision no longer as blurry as his body slowly recovers from the shock of being knocked over. He's somewhat surprised he's only vaguely hurt, the graze being the worst of it; an aching knee from bashing it on the curb, burning palms from attempting to break his fall, but otherwise he's unharmed. "...I don't wanna lose to you again."

Joe can't help it - he laughs. "Hey, I'll tell her to come back and run you over a second time if you keep giving me shit."

A giggling mess the pair of them become, Joe's arms wrapping ever-so-gratefully around the other man as he comes to terms with his luck. Sal had suffered only minor wounds, and even though the driver had been an asshole who felt she had an entitlement to the road, she hadn't hit him hard enough to seriously injure him. Joe counts his lucky stars before getting up.

"Don't leave me, Joey. Help me."

Smiling more genuinely, the man sticks out a hand and helps ease Vulcano to his feet, watching his face for any signs of grief; aside from when he puts weight on the leg with his throbbing knee, there's not a trace of the accident left in him.

"I'm not leaving you. I'd never leave you," he replies, wrapping an arm around his middle and guiding him back to the rest of the troupe. Murr and Q both greet him with worried expressions, check him over with frantic touches and glances down his body before embracing him
tightly enough to knock the wind out of him. They're short-lived as Joe's smacks them both across the back of their heads, listening as they both yelp 'ow!' and glare at him. "What have we learned, children?"

"That when you say stop, it's for good reason..." Murr recounts grievously, Q too stubborn to succumb to the urge to apologise, especially when Joe is being condescending about it. One thing is for sure though: he'll remember it - and not even for Sal's "accident" but for Joe's tone of voice.

"Damn right," Joe responds firmly, like a displeased parent. However, a moment later he smiles and shakes his head; he just feels so lucky that he can't bear to stay angry. "God damn - it's like ya wanted to get him killed."