intermission.
“Speak,” Brad says, voice filled with authority as he points the tip of his cane-sword at the whimpering man writhing beneath him, struggling to breath with the firm foot Brad has pressing against his windpipe. The mask concealing his face doesn't detract the intensity of bright pink hues glaring down at his captive with barely held-back anger. “Before I cut your tongue off.”
“IㅡI swear, I have no idea where Faith Beams is!” the man gasps out. Brad narrows his eyes and steps down harder, making him gargle and cough even more. “Us lackeys don’t have that sorta’ info!”
“Then who does?” Brad presses on, increasing the pressure with each second that passes, the goon desperately clawing at the leather of his shoe, face beginning to look blue from the lack of oxygen.
“TheㅡThe leaders are holed up in the Exudia Bar!”
The former officer releases the man, who wheezes and curls up on his side as he gulps in big lungfuls of air. Brad sheathes his cane, and lets the wooden stump knock against the cemented floor, turning his back against the remaining henchman. “You should be grateful you get to live another day.”
Exudia. He's heard the name come out of Keith's lips a couple of times, the other should know where it is.
They're running out of time. Who knows what the gang is doing with Faith at this very moment, and whether they plan to keep him alive or not?
The sooner they get there, the better.
Now, to get out of this stuffy warehouseㅡ
BANG!
Brad's instincts kick in and he swerves away from the gunshot just in time to avoid getting shot in the head, the bullet going through a part of his mask and breaking the porcelain surface over half of his face. He whips around to see the man still lying on the ground with the gun pointed at him, and his eyes widen when he realizes just who he's dealing with.
“Wait, you're Brad Beams! How are you still aliveㅡGhrk!”
The henchman doesn't get the chance to finish his sentence as the knife that Brad throws at him lodges itself into his throat, the man gurgling in his own blood before the body goes limp in mere seconds, crimson beginning to pool around him.
Brad clicks his tongue in annoyance, removing the broken mask and tossing it to a corner of the room. “So much for sparing his life, I suppose.”
Then again, he knows who Brad is. He couldn't let the man escape even if he wanted to.
Rushed footsteps get louder before the door opens in a mighty swing, and Keith strides inside with his gun already pointed in front of him. “I heard a gunshot! Are you alriㅡOh. Looks like you took care of him already.”
“He shot my mask,” Brad says curtly, dusting off his coat while he glares at the corpse. “I had to kill him.”
“Huh…Okay. Glad to see you’re okay, though.” Keith puts his pistol back in its holster, offering his trademark, crooked grin that's only half visible underneath his mask as he walks up to Brad and gives him a quick once-over. Just to make sure that the manㅡhis lover and partner in crimeㅡis uninjured. “Got what you needed?”
“Sort of,” Brad answers, reaching into his coat pocket and taking out another mask that he quickly secures over his face. “He doesn't know anything about Faith, but I managed to get another location. He mentioned that the higher-ups are hiding in Exudia.”
“Oh, yeah. I know the place, can't really miss it with how flashy and loud it is. I used to hate it for bass-boosting everything,” Keith says, rolling his eyes at the memory. “Well then, let's get going. No time to lose, yeah?” The blond cocks his head towards the exit.
Brad nods, and he can't help but to worry about Faith's condition. He clenches his fist, hoping that they wouldn't be too late to rescue his dear brother.
Keith seems to sense Brad's unrest that haunts his mind, because he takes a few steps closer until they're only inches away from each other and clasps his shoulder, his green iris twinkling under his mask in a way that feels reassuring somehow.
“We'll get to him, okay? He'll be fine. 'Sides…”
Keith lifts his mask, until he can see the entirety of his face, the lopsided smile that he loves so dearly with all his heart. “I've got your back, Brad. I always will.”
Of course he does. For these past six months, that's all they're all that they have for each other.
Brad exhales softly, with a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He slips off his own mask so he can lean in to kiss Keith, the other gladly returning it in a passionate tango only they know the rhythm to. Something that can only bloom under a love shared for the past two years.
“It's us against the world, yeah?” Keith says, extending his fist.
Brad chuckles, and bumps his fist against Keith's own. “Of course. Now, come, Keith. I have a brother to rescue.”
“That's the spirit.”
Brad Beams and Keith Max against the world, the name of the game that they would play until death takes them apart.