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Ballister despised Ambrosius. Really, he did. But every villain needs a designated nemesis, so when he saw that Ambrosius was injured, he had no choice but to take him in. All the other guards had hurriedly scampered away once they assumed that Ballister had escaped. It was Ambrosius’ idea, anyway. He was barely conscious, but instructed Ballister to take him to his lair, anyway. Ballister would have Ambrosius stay for a couple hours to heal and then he’d kick him out. After that their lives could go back to normal. They could go back to fighting as they normally did.
Regardless of all that, Ballister did not think his plan through completely.
Ambrosius mumbled and slowly opened his eyes, and Ballister immediately rushed to the other side of the room to force Ambrosius on his back once he attempted to get up.
“Wh- Ballister?” Ambrosius stuttered as he frantically examined the room- well, as much as he could when he couldn’t get up.
“That’s my name.” Ballister sarcastically replied.
“Where am I?”
“My home. You know, that you told me to take you to.”
“Your-” Ambrosius looked around once again and frowned. “Some home this is,” he mumbled. “At least it suits you.”
“Excuse me?” Ballister asked, offended by his comment.
“It’s quite quaint, don’t you think? You could do with some decor.”
“I’m fine with how it is.”
Ambrosius attempted to sit up again, but Ballister pushed him down. “You need to rest. You’re injured, Ambrosius.”
Ambrosius groaned. “I have to stay in this dreary place and I can't even get up? Are you torturing me or what?”
“My home is not a dump, for your information. And if you care about your health, I’d suggest laying down for a while. Don’t be stupid and injure yourself further.”
Ballister scowled and began to leave the living room until a hand pulled on his arm. His robotic arm, in fact. Ambrosius immediately let go after noticing what arm he touched.
“Sorry, I didn’t-” Ambrosius paused and took a deep breath. “What happened to me? I can’t recall anything.”
“I tried to rob the bank and you stopped me, so I used one of my new inventions to try and escape, but… it backfired, basically.”
“What do you mean it backfired?”
“It exploded.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, you can go now.” Ambrosius said, waving his hands toward the hallway that led to Ballister’s bedroom.
Ballister did as he said.
As he approached his bedroom door, Ballister looked at his right arm. He couldn’t look at it without being reminded of the joust that caused all of it. He didn’t particularly like thinking about it, but tonight was exceptional, so he let himself do it.
Ballister opened the door to his bedroom and slammed it shut, scurrying over to his bed to lay down.
He had built his arm himself, and he was rather proud of it. Sure, it still had a few kinks to work out, but it was pretty impressive nevertheless. It was too bad he even had to have it in the first place, though. Had it not been for Ambrosius' need to be a winner in every game he plays, he wouldn’t be in this predicament at the moment. He would’ve been a knight and he would’ve still been Ambrosius’ friend. Having Ambrosius in his home wouldn’t be awkward if they were still friends.
But, no, Ballister didn’t want to be Ambrosius’ friend anymore. He had betrayed him, betrayed him and left him in the dust. If Ballister could go back in time and stop them from becoming friends, he would. He didn’t deserve a friend that hurt him, even if it meant he’d have no friends at all.
“He’s so stupid,” Ballister murmured. He came into his life only to leave it and leave a part of Ballister hollow. How could he look so guilty after touching his arm, anyway? He never apologized for what he did, and he certainly wasn’t going to anytime soon. Ambrosius is an arrogant and stubborn man, and Ballister could never change that fact.
Even if he did apologize, Ballister would never forgive him. He didn’t deserve it. He shouldn’t have to forgive him when he was the one who ruined his life.
Ballister shifted over to face the wall his bed rested beside. It really did suit him, so he supposed Ambrosius was right about one thing. It was dull and not many people would choose gray as the color of their bedroom. But Ballister had always been different, so gray suited him. Not many people would wear dark colors all the time or become a villain, but he was different. Maybe that was why he didn’t have many friends. Or people that stuck with him. Or people wanting to be around him in general.
“Ballister!” a voice called out. Ballister groaned. He didn’t want to deal with Ambrosius right now. “Ballister!”
Ballister rushed out of his room to see what the issue was. He spotted Ambrosius laying down, looking the same as he did before Ballister left. He got on his knees to be on the same level as him and raised a questioning eyebrow.
“I’m bored.” Ambrosius whined.
Ballister sighed. He anticipated this. “Okay, and what am I to do about it?”
“Do something with me.”
“What, like going outside? It’s raining and you shouldn’t be up and about anyway.”
“Well, now that you’ve brought it up, I would like to go outside, thank you very much.” Ambrosius said.
“Wh- you weren’t supposed to listen to me ! We aren’t going outside, you can barely even walk.”
“Yes, I can. Just watch me.” And to prove his point, Ambrosius got up and made an effort to stand, which ultimately failed. Ballister’s instincts took over him and he got up to catch the other man before he could fall on the floor. Ballister set him down on the couch and looked away before he could meet the latter’s gaze.
“Can’t you just carry me or something?” Ambrosius asked after a few moments of silence.
Ballister could’ve just collapsed right there and then. “C-Carry you? Absolutely not.”
“But I want to go out! You have nothing interesting enough to do here. Or much at all. Don’t you get bored?”
“I spend most of my time in my lab. I have no reason to become bored. And anyways, if you want to go out so bad you can just do it yourself.”
“But I can’t even stand!” Ambrosius pouted. Ballister sat down beside him.
“Let me out. Please. ” Ambrosius said, looking Ballister in the eye, and dear God, he forgot how tempting those eyes were.
“Only if you promise to stop acting like a child. It’s infuriating me.”
“Yes, yes, now let’s go!” Ambrosius cheered. “Let me onto your back, Ballister.”
And just then, Ballister realized what he had gotten himself into. He’d have to touch Ambrosius for a lot longer than he was comfortable with. He knew he wouldn’t have minded it a few years ago, but this wasn’t a few years ago- it was the present. And in the present, they were archenemies. Not lovers.
“Couldn’t I just… help you walk? You could grab onto me.”
“I don’t care, Ballister. Whatever rocks your boat.”
So Ballister helped him up and let him lean onto his shoulder. He resisted the sigh of relief that wanted to be let go ever so badly. It took a minute, but when they finally reached the door and opened it, Ambrosius let go of Ballister and hopped down the path. Once he seemed satisfied, he sat down right on the path, ignoring the rain making it muddier by the second
Ballister really didn’t want to get his clothes grimy. He had just changed out of his armor a few hours ago and he did the laundry last night. So he walked up to Ambrosius and just stood by him.
“Aren’t you going to sit down?” Ambrosius asked.
“I don’t want to get my clothes dirty.” Unfortunately, Ambrosius pulled him down to the ground anyway. Ballister gasped and gave Ambrosius a dirty look. Ambrosius just gave him a wry smile in response. Oh, how devious he was. Ballister really hated this guy.
Ballister didn’t particularly enjoy being in such close proximity with Ambrosius. They were practically shoulder-to-shoulder and Ballister was growing more anxious as he realized that.
Ballister hadn’t even realized Ambrosius had been staring at him until he spoke. “You okay, Bal?”
He couldn’t answer Ambrosius.
“Hey, why do you look so tense?” Ambrosius tried once again.
“You called me Bal.”
Ambrosius looked like he had just seen a ghost. Ballister wanted to run away at that moment.
“No, I didn’t.” he finally said.
“Yes, you did. You haven’t called me that since the joust.”
Ambrosius didn't answer this time. He began fiddling with his fingers, and Ballister hated that that reminded him of when Ambrosius would fiddle with his fingers when they were kids because of his constant nervousness. Ballister would always hold his hand whenever Ambrosious did that, and he always seemed to feel better after it.
So, naturally, Ballister brought his hands to Ambrosius', and held them tight. Ambrosius has yet to look up at him.
“Sorry,” Ambrosius murmured. “Force of habit, you know?”
“Yeah, I know.” And he really did. Sometimes Ballister would get close to saying one of their old inside jokes as if they were friends, or he’d look for him in his bed even though they haven’t slept together in virtually a decade, or he’d take his arm out to hold Ambrosius close like he used to. And yet, Ballister couldn’t help but hate the man he’s loved for years. He could convince himself their relationship meant nothing, but he’d always love Ambrosius. And Ambrosius loved him. He could see it in the prolonged eye contact they often held and in the way he smiled at him. Ballister loathed it.
“How come we had to grow apart?”
Ballister’s heart sank. Ambrosius knew the answer to that question but still decided to say it, anyway. “Because you blew my fucking arm off. That’s why, Ambrosius.”
Ambrosius scoffed, “It was a rhetorical question. God, you don’t have to bring it up all the time!”
“I can bring it up whenever I want to!”
“Ballister ! It was an accident and you’re the only one who’s still hung up on it.”
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe I’m still hung up on it because I have to live with it forever and I have to see the person who ruined my life nearly every week. You could forget it ever happened, but I can’t . You’re the reason I’m now a damn social pariah.” Ballister turned his gaze away from his enemy.
“I never meant to blow your arm off, Ballister. You know that.”
“You don’t have to lie to me.”
“It was an accident. Honest.”
Ballister was tired from this conversation, and he wasn’t going to speak any longer. He didn’t expect it to go south so quickly, so he got up and headed toward his castle. Ambrosius could leave for all he cared, because Ballister did not care for his enemy.
“Wait! Ballister, wait up!” Ambrosius called from behind him. Ballister could hear his struggles as he attempted to get up, but he knew he could reach the door before Ambrosius got even remotely close to getting up.
Ballister ignored Ambrosius’ calls for him and shut the door as hard as he could. He immediately slid down to the floor and tucked his head in his knees. He was foolish for taking Ambrosius in. Why did he expect no arguments to occur?
A few minutes passed and a sudden knock on the door startled Ballister. He got up and looked through the peephole, agitated to find the one and only Ambrosius Goldenloin standing on his doorstep.
It had stopped raining and the sun was peeking over the clouds, and Ambrosius looked heavenly with the sun’s rays illuminating him. Ballister looked away from the peephole, ashamed of himself. Another knock alarmed Ballister, so he opened the door for Ambrosius.
Ambrosius looked muddied and worn out, but Ballister had never thought someone could look so kissable until that very moment. He pulled Ambrosius in, holding onto his waist with his left hand and closed the door with his right. He shoved him on the wall and looked into his eyes.
“You’re a dick.” he says.
Ambrosius widens his eyes and opens his mouth to stutter an apology, probably, but Ballister cups his cheek with one of his hands and leans in to close their distance. And, oh, how he hated that man! He didn't have to be so great at kissing. Once Ambrosius got adjusted, he kissed Ballister back with the same hunger from all those years ago, and frankly, that just made Ballister hate him more. He hated how Ambrosius still kisses the same as he used to and he hated that he looked so pretty in the sunlight. But he hated how he couldn’t pull apart from Ambrosius more than anything else.
It was Ambrosius who pulled away first, and his expression was completely illegible. The weight of reality then hit Ballister, and his knees decided to give up on him. He slid back to his previous position with his head in his knees to hide the fact that he was very close to crying- and also because he did not want to face his ex-lover right now.
“You’re so fickle, Ballister,” A heavy silence hung over them; Ambrosius was probably waiting for Ballister to respond. “One moment you say you hate me, another and you kiss me, and now you won’t even speak. You don’t have to be so indecisive.”
Ballister silently promised himself that he would never speak to Ambrosius again. He made such a bad decision.
“Ballister, look at me,” Ambrosius attempted to lift his head up, but Ballister pushed it back down. “Look at me, please .” The desperate tone of voice made Ballister’s heart throb, so he looked up, and he realized that he may not be able to keep his promise.
“Do you regret it?” Ambrosius asked.
Ballister shook his head, even though that was partially a lie. He had missed the feeling of Ambrosius’ lips on his own, but Ambrosius was his enemy , and enemies weren’t supposed to reconcile like this. It was mortifying.
Ambrosius then kneeled down, still holding on to the wall, and sat by Ballister. “I don’t regret it either, Bal.”
He called him that nickname again, and Ballister thought that he just might faint. Everyone else had always said his name with such uncertainty or malice that Ballister was beginning to think that no one would say his name in such a caring tone ever again- much less hear that nickname again.
He felt a hand creep up to his head, but he didn’t dare move in the slightest way. Ambrosius’ fingers gingerly massaged his head, playing with his dark strands of hair as he did so. Ballister couldn’t stop the shiver that seemingly took over his whole body.
“You know, your undercut is probably the best thing you’ve done to your appearance.” Ambrosius suddenly said.
Ballister quizzingly looked up at him.
“Your beard, too. Back then, I thought that you couldn’t get any more attractive, but I’ve been proven wrong.”
If Ballister was being truthful, Ambrosius’ own changes to his appearance made him startlingly more handsome. Ballister would be bluffing if he said he didn’t have the irresistible urge to comb his hands through Ambrosius’ hair every time he saw him.
And that left Ballister’s face to be absolutely flushed , so he naturally couldn’t help but lean in once again. This time, Ambrosius instantly kissed him back, cupping Ballister’s face with both of his hands. Ballister laid one hand in Ambrosius’ hair and the other on his waist. Ambrosius’ hunger was getting more intense by the second, but so was Ballister’s.
When Ambrosius licked Ballister’s bottom lip, Ballister opened his mouth a bit further to allow him easy access. Ambrosius brought one hand down to the hem of Ballister’s shirt and slithered it up his stomach. Ballister let out a small, but rather embarrassing noise that made him falter his rhythm for a moment. However, Ambrosius caught on and held onto him even tighter than before. Their teeth clacked in the messy kiss, and Ballister
This time, Ballister was the one to pull away. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”
“You’re the one who kissed me.” Ambrosius said, and he pried his arms away from Ballister.
“You impelled me!”
“Oh, so I impelled you at first when I knocked on your door ?”
Ballister frowned. “You idiot, I was talking about the second time! The first time was just an impulsive decision.”
Ambrosius took a few steps back, and that encouraged Ballister to do the same- their proximity was too close. Ambrosius was still holding onto the wall to keep his balance.
“What is wrong with you? If you’re having a conflict inside that head of yours, keep it to yourself. I don’t want to be involved with your problems.”
Ballister laughed, “What’s wrong with me ? You should be asking yourself that question. ‘Oh, Ballister, I don’t want to be involved with your problems,’ but you just invoked me to… to do that !”
“Shut up !”
“Why? Because I’m right?”
Ambrosius was now red-faced and looked to be thinking of a comeback. Instead of saying it out loud, he marched over to the couch (with minor stumbles) and sat down with a huff.
“The door is over there, you know.” Ballister remarked.
“What, you want me to leave?” Ballister really did. He couldn’t stand looking at his face knowing what he’d do if he stared too much. But he’d never admit that.
“Yeah. And I can tell you want to leave too.”
Ambrosius sighed. “I suppose you’re right. Thank you for, er… tending to my wounds, Blackheart.”
And it was back to the surname. He couldn't even bother to say Ballister anymore “My pleasure.” Ballister fiercely muttered under his breath. He didn’t bother helping Ambrosius who was clearly struggling with the task of getting to the door. Fortunately, it seemed that Ambrosius didn’t want help anyway. When he finally reached the door, Ballister opened it and waited for Ambrosius to leave.
But he didn’t leave. He stopped short of the door and stared into Ballister’s eyes, as if he were waiting for him to say something. He then looked down, right at Ballister’s chest. But it wasn’t his chest Ambrosius was staring at, Ballister realized. It was his arm.
“Observing the damage you’ve made?” Ballister said. And, to Ballister’s misfortune, caused Ambrosius to grunt and leave, slamming the door in the process. Ballister immediately shut one eye and glanced through the peephole, where he saw Ambrosius limping down the path to the Kingdom, where he’d once again meet up with Ballister during another one of his heinous schemes.
Ballister turned away from the peephole and took a deep breath. He looked around the room, trying to calm himself down from his previous dispute. Then, he noticed a sword laying on the coffee table beside the couch. Ambrosius’ sword.
Ballister took his sword out of its scabbard while he placed Ambrosius on the couch to prevent any discomfort. He must have forgotten to give it back to him because of how distracted his mind was. Curse Ambrosius and his ungodly ability to take up Ballister’s entire mind!
He’d have to give Ambrosius’ sword back soon. But, for now, Ballister laid down on the couch and embraced Ambrosius’ lingering scent. It wasn’t that great, all Ballister could really smell was his cologne, but it was his scent, so it was okay for now.
Ballister thought about what Ambrosius said to him before. If he really liked Ballister’s new look that much , perhaps he’d keep that style. Just to entertain him, though.
Ballister hated Ambrosius, but wasn’t it amusing how he also loved him so?