This is basically my birthday present to myself-

And it's about time I write part two to this >:3

Enjoy uwuwuwu

Cross dipped the dirty plate into the the sink of hot soapy water, the ugly green and yellow scrubber grasped tightly in his right hand as he rubbed it in slow, bored circles. His eyes were cast at one of the dull white tiles that ran across the walls sickly, their once pearly colour having been reduced to a stodgy grey.

The clatter of cutlery and muffled voices could be heard in the distance, all the chefs and other waiters preparing food to be brought out to the small amount of customers sat down and sipping pints of beer.

Dragging his hands from the hot water, he placed the now clean plate down on a wrack to drain, soap studs climbing up his arms to just beneath his elbows, the cuffs of his rolled up sleeves slightly dampened.

He dried his hands quickly and glanced at the time, the clock fixed wonkily to the wall ticking softly and only adding to the noise of the pub. It was six pm, the time when his cleaning shift in the back ended and he had to serve at the bar till nine pm.

He pulled his apron off and hung it on his labeled peg before slipping past the group of tall women walking into the back section to change their shifts and swap with him. He stepped out to behind the bar, his pupils casting across the familiar surroundings as
He walked forwards and started wiping the counter clean from a few spillages of drink. The night was mildly empty, only about five groups of people scattered across the tables in the pub and eating their dinner.

He sighed and leant against the counter, eyes closed and body relaxed. It had been six months since the incident involving a prison escape and a certain goopy skeleton. God he could remember all the events like they happened yesterday. The plan to escape, the adrenaline he'd felt pumping through his body as they'd scrambled under the fence. The screams he'd given when they screeched around the neighbourhood on a police motorbike that left his throat raw for a week. When Nightmare had stolen those clothes for them before driving off in the motorbike for seven hours before they finally came to a stop 200 miles away from the city they'd escaped from.

From there Nightmare had dumped him on the side of the street and zoomed off without a single word, not even giving some money for the boy to use. He just disappeared, never to be seen again.

Well, or so he thought.

A grunt sounded from in front of him and the clatter of money sliding along the counter rang out, followed by a gruff voice. "Pint of Corona."

He opened his eyes slowly to nod, only to freeze instantly. The person at the bar had an elbow resting on its shiny chipped surface, a large dark hoodie covering their arms and the majority of their hands. But Cross could see their fingers tapping away at the wood; skeletal bones with dark black slime dripping from them.

His pupils snapped up to their face which, at the time, was facing away from him. They had their hood pulled right up over their head and were staring over at the TV in the far corner where the rugby was playing. They didn't hear Cross clear his throat, too fixated on the rugby as one of the teams scored a try.

The 'stranger' must have got confused at the lack of drink pouring so turned, starting to hiss out a complaint before trailing off as their singular blue eye made contact with Cross' hetrochromic ones.

"Nightmare--" He blurted, soul thudding rapidly in his chest. Oh god it really was him. The man he'd prayed he'd never ever see again.

The scowl on their face slowly morphed into a wide grin, a brow raising. "...Well well well, I must say, I didn't think I'd ever see you again, peanut."

He mentally rolled his eyes at the nickname and glared at him. "And neither did I- oh and by the way, thanks for abandoning me on the side of the road!"

"Keep your voice down, Princess. Low profile, remember?" He waved him down dismissively as if he was a misbehaving dog.

"Excuse me--" He went to hiss something back in retort, but found himself cut off by Nightmare's hand being shoved over his mouth.

"Quiet goddamn it. Were you really this annoying in prison? I'd convinced myself you were some weak little boy begging for my help." He cast him an agitated look before glancing at the line of beer pumps. "And uh, and I going to get my drink? Or do I have to complain about service times?"

Cross ripped his hand away and spat out the small amount of slime that had managed to sip in his mouth, gagging. "You don't have enough money."

"Oh?" He faked surprise and frowned deeply, his hands retreating to his pockets and rummaging around for a moment and pulling out all bits and bobs. Some keys were placed on the counter, a leaflet, a few one pence pieces.

Cross sighed loudly and grabbed the folded up leaflet, eyes scanning across the rainbow title in confusion. "...South Pier Gay Bar? Why the hell do you have this?"

Nightmare snickered, his eye lighting up as he grabbed something from his pocket. "Take a wild guess, sweetheart."

The male shook his head and was about to tell him to go away, before a gun was suddenly placed on the bar in front of him. He froze, any sarcastic comments he had dying in his throat. "N-Nightmare you cant show that! You'll get caught!"

The octopus shrugged his words off as if he was warning a toddler not to drink paint. Humming he subtly angled the gun at Cross, eye staring at  him boredly. "I'll have that pint, please."

It was sleek and matte, the dark barrel pointed right at his chest and safety trigger clearly unlocked. It's handle looked chipped and scratched, the textured surface that helped for grip looking like it had been used far too much. It looked horrible, the very sight of it sending Cross' soul plummeting down to his feet.

Nodding hastily he stumbled back and grabbed a glass, his hands fumbling and shaking horribly as he tried to locate the right pump and shove the glass beneath it. His hands felt hot and clammy, his grip on the handle barely able to keep it down long enough for the pint to be filled.

Nightmare snickered in amusement, the gun retreating back to his pocket as soon as Cross had shoved it into his hands. "Sweetheart relax, it's not loaded."

Cross froze again before the stiff tension that had been building up in his chest cracked like glass before shattering. His knees felt week and soul wouldn't stop thudding in his chest. "Are you fucking serious?!"

"Yep. I mean, I'm not going to shoot you in the broad daylight of a bar, am I? That would be one, messy- and two, very attention seeking, believe it or not. This thing can be pretty loud." He shot him a wink (a sexy blink) and took a gulp of the pint before spinning on his heels and walking over to one of the high up tables with the stool chairs.

Cross watched him silently, his still shaking fingers gripping onto the cloth that was always hung over a hook under the bar and wiped away all the clumsy spillages he'd made from pouring Nightmare's pint so messily. He couldn't even take his eyes off of the criminal escapee, his eyes fixated on him as he took another drink of his pint and slipped something back into his pockets. That's when Cross realised that he'd also taken the money back with him. Of course, he should have seen that coming.

Behind him someone tapped his shoulder hesitantly. "...Cross?"

He nearly shrieked, whipping around and gripping onto the wrist of whoever had their hand on his shoulder. His 'assailant' yelped and stumbled back, eyes going wide and hands held up in surrender. "Woa woa- Cross- it's me, Eric!"

He looked at the boy and blinked, his eyes travelling down to the death grip he had on his bar partner's wrist. "O-Oh, Sorry Eric." He let go quickly and flushed lightly. "I wasn't myself then..."

"Yeah, I can tell." He frowned and cast him a wary look, his gaze soon travelling over to Nightmare who'd already downed his pint completely now. "...And you were checking out that guy?"

"Wh- no?!" He hissed, shoving him and earning a teasing giggle. "I was just amused by how fast he drank that pint- that's all."

"Well he's waving you over now, so you better not ignore him." He snickered before sliding further down the bar to where a young woman had rocked up, looking rather drunk and confused.

Cross winced and slowly looked over at the seat where Nightmare was sat. He had his empty pint held up and was pointing at it with eccentric actions before indicating at the bar. He groaned and muttered something his mother wouldn't be too proud of hearing under his breath and grabbed a clean glass from their never ending storage of them. He shot Nightmare a withering glare and pointed at the same pump he'd drank from last time before miming a question mark.

The octopus shook his head from across the room, pointing at the one next to it with a wide grin. Cross sighed and quickly poured him a pint of the drink, this time without all the jitters and shaking hands. He then slipped out to the gate for the bar, unlocking it quickly and shutting it behind him as he walked out and down to Nightmare's table.

"Your drink, your highness." He commented sarcastically, placing the drink down on one of their logo-labeled coasters. "And will you be paying by money or gun?"

"Neither; charm is what I'll pay with." He hummed and took the drink while pressing the empty glass of his other drink into Cross' hands.

He snorted and leaned against his table, which wasn't a half irritated glance from the taller. "You'll pay with information. Like what the hell you've been up to in the past six months."

"I don't do bargains, kid."

"Oh c'mon, you can tell me!" He inwardly cringed at the sound of his own voice, the sentence having come out a lot more childish and whiny than he'd have liked it to.

Nightmare sighed and stared up at him with his drink aimlessly swishing around in its glass, the deep golden-brown colour of it glinting in the yellow glow of the lights fixated all around the old pub building. "You're really annoying, you know that?"

"Yeah, but I deserve to know, don't I?" He squeezed the empty glass between his hands tightly, to the point where if he really tried, he could probably shatter it. "I was your whole plan for escaping, without me, you wouldn't even be here!"

"Keep your voice down, runt." He growled, placing the drink down abruptly and slapping him over the back of the head with a tentacle lightly. "And if you just know- I've been...places."

"You're so frustrating, you know that?" He muttered, rubbing the back of his head softly in annoyance.

"I've been told. But anyway, how've you been?"

"Pff, like you actually care."

"I don't, but at least tell me something that'll redeem yourself from looking so silently awkward." He stared at him, that blue eye still having the exact same capturing look he remembered it as having.

"Well, I've done fine, no thanks to you." He pushed the empty glass aimlessly from hand to hand, not realising in the slightest that the action quickly became increasingly annoying for Nightmare. "...I was living on the streets for a few days, begging. And then I found this job here that provides very minimalistic lodgings for its workers."

"How boring. I thought you'd be a mass murderer by now." He finished his second pint, clearly debating whether to have a third.

"Me? A mass murderer? Are you kidding?" He laughed, pointing down at himself. "This?"

"Well, you were in prison for something bad- thought maybe murder could be the thing." He stared at him closely. "Hey - what were you in jail for? I don't think you ever told me."

"And I don't remember you telling me your reason either." He answered quickly, slightly hoping that Nightmare would just suddenly pour his entire life story out to him then and there. But of course, he didn't.

"Touché."

"I mean, besides, you're the one more likely to be a mass murderer." He shivered a little, remembering how carelessly he'd snapped guards necks and shot them down in their escape.

"Well maybe." He gave a sharped tooth grin, his tongue running across their smooth surface. "How else do you think I got this gun?"

The skeleton swallowed and took a quick step back, not exactly wanting to find out if he was kidding or not. "I- on that note, I think I-I have to leave--"

"Kid! I was just kidding!" He called after him. But Cross was already gone, walking away quickly and weaving in and out of the tables surprisingly gracefully. He pushed open the bar gate and hopped in, ignoring the winking glance he got from Eric and placing Nightmare's two empty drinks in the tray for used glasses, plates, cutlery etc that got collected every half-hour by the cleaning staff out back.

He sighed and slumped against the counter once more, ignoring Nightmare's hollering wave from the edge of his vision and closing his eyes. He just wanted to sleep, honestly. He'd had a horrible sleep last night - if you could even call it sleep - and wanted nothing more to collapse on his rickety old battered bed with ripped sheets and fall asleep for about 47 hours. That would be nice.

And then when he woke up Nightmare would be gone, his pay check would double, he'd move into his own accommodation and some shining prince or princess would discover him as secret royalty and take him back to their palace to be spoilt forever.

Yeah, in his dreams.

A loud occurrence of noise became apparent and Cross buried his face in his hands, listening to what sounded like at least seven people waking through the front door and talking far too loud for his liking.

He knew he'd have to look up at some point so he did, his pupils lazily dragging across the scattered tables before freezing as they fixed on the new arrivals crowding round a large table.

Police.

Instantly his soul wracked up to a fast paced sprint, his head suddenly going very light and legs made of spaghetti. He could barely swallow, his throat feeling like someone was dragging sandpaper down it slowly with the pain purpose to make breathing impossible.

They were all still dressed in their uniforms, six men and one woman. They were all talking and laughing together, their serious expressions lost. You'd be forgiven for thinking that they were just drunk mates in costumes, yet they weren't. Cross had only seen the hard and cold sneering looks from the prison police back in the old prison, none of them even cracking a smile. You could show them the "preganananananant" video at them, and they'd barely bat an eyelid.

His fingers dug into the wood of the bar and he quickly shot a glance at Nightmare. The criminal had clearly noticed their appearance because he had his hood pulled even further over his face than before, his head cast down at the table and his fingers blankly stirring at the ashy cigarette tray in the middle. Cross could clearly see his hand in his pocket, shifting - the one with the gun.

Swallowing weakly he took a quick step back before feeling his back thud into something hard-yet-soft. Nearly screaming he whacked a hand over his mouth and spun around to come face to face to his manager. "S-sIR--"

"Cross?" He looked down at him in confusion, a frown quickly forming on his face. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Wh- I-I--"

"There are new customers to serve. Don't just stand there like a bloody penguin, take their orders!" He shooed him towards the bar gate, pushing him.

Gasping Cross panicked, shaking his head. "B-But Sir! I-I can't!"

His large manager paused, staring down at him with a hairy brow arched highly. "And why's that, hm? My generous pay check doesn't cover police?"

"N-No it's not that- I-I'm just- I'm really shy--" He looked up at him desperately before his gaze swept across any of the other people say down. And then he caught Nightmare's gaze, the skeleton waving him over. "I-I'll serve him instead--"

The manager snorted and shook his head. "You wish. I saw you flirting your life away with him for ten minutes earlier. You're going to serve the men that keep our community safe, not your shady boyfriend." He slapped him on the back, sending him stumbling forwards towards the seven cops.

"S-Sir he's not my--"

"Zip it, kid. Take their orders now, and then serve them. Otherwise I'll cut your check for this week entirely." He gave him a threatening look.

Cross tensed up before slumping in defeat and sighing loudly. He really didn't want to, but his feet started dragging him towards the table where the police were already looking at the food menus and jabbing their fingers at whatever meals looked good to them.

He found he could hardly breathe as he got closer to the table, his breath coming out in jerky gasps that sent his skull spinning. "They're completely different cops, Cross." He whispered to himself under his breath, his pupils nervously shifting across each of them for split seconds at a time. "They won't recognise you- they probably haven't even heard about you."

His little pep talk didn't really do much for his nerves, but he did manage to pull out his little notepad and paper with extremely shaky hands and ask in the most weak and pathetic voice he could muster. "C-Can I-I- can I take y-your orders...?"

God, he sounded like a kid that had just found it's favourite toy destroyed by their older sibling.

Only one of them actually heard him, blinking and looking up. His eyes scanned up and down the skeleton for a moment before he turned and thumped his friend on the back. "Guys! The boy wants to take our orders."

The other six cops all paused their conversations and glanced over at him, the menus held in their hands. God, Cross felt like he was about to faint, seven pairs of police eyes boring into his soul and sucking all the blood from his bones. He had to swallow a gasp, taking in a deep breath. "I um- h-have you decided what you want to e-eat?"

"Oh yeah, yeah of course-" The one who seemed to be the ringleader - of some point - cleared his throat and took a quick glance down at the menu. "Two gammon eggs and chips please, one fish and chips, two chicken burgers - one with salad and one with extra fries, a chilli-halloumi wrap, aaaand one of your cheese and tomato melt paninis."

Cross' handwriting looked so messy and scrawled thanks to his pesky shaking hands that it was hardly readable. And he could  physically feeling sweat bead on his skull and run down his spine, making his shirt feel tight and clammy. "A-And drinks?"

"Oh- of course. Six pints of Guinness, and one glass of coke." Snickers came from the six cops that assumedly were having beer, all of them casting sly glances at the stony looking guy near the end of the table. "Well, someone has to stay sober."

"Yeah yeah- good excuse." The one next to him laughed, patting them on the back. "You just don't know how to have fun."

Cross turned on his heels and started to walk away, but not before hearing the sober man respond gruffly. "Well back at Craitown's prison institution drinking was forbidden. I just follow on from those rules."

If Cross wasn't walking already, he would have started sprinting. His soul plummeted to his feet once more and his 'lungs' turned to ice in his chest. Craitown prison. The place him and Nightmare had escaped from. Stumbling to the bar he found himself having to grip onto something to stay standing, his fingers dragging across the wooden surface of the bar gate as he stepped through.

There was a cop here in this very pub. One from Craitown prison. Craitown prison. Sucking in deep breaths he forced himself to walk as steadily as possible to the back door that lead into the kitchen and pushed them open with his shoulder.

Stepping inside he felt a little more relaxed now that he was out of sight from the police, but he still felt like he had a sniper trained at the back of his skull. He walked over to the little bulletin board they had and stuck the orders up with a pin, letting them hang there for staff to come round and collect. He wasn't allowed to physically give it to the cooks because of some dumb hygiene rules that the manager followed like the holy bible.

He took a rather long time making sure the pin was exactly in the centre, that the paper wasn't tilted, that it looked in a nice position on the corkscrew board. Oh yes, he definitely wasn't wasting time. Why would you think that? He was just a perfectionist, yes, that's it.

A good few minutes had been wasted before one of the cooking staff marched up and ripped the piece of paper from the board without a care in the world. They cast a confused look at Cross, but didn't say anything and quickly turned back to walk away.

Biting his knuckle - something he'd caught from Nightmare - he glanced anxiously out the doorway where he could see the group of police chatting amongst themselves. He'd have to make their drinks now, otherwise they'd risk service complaints and his 'generous pay check' could be kissed down the drain.

Attempting to put on the most neutral expression he could possibly muster, Cross pushed the doors open and stepped out. He quickly ducked under the bar to grab all the seven needed pint glasses, placing them on top before forcing himself to stand to view.

He'd envisioned that when he did so all police eyes would be locked on him, the addition of pointed guns trained at his chest being a possibility. He'd also assumed that Nightmare would have booked it and ran by now, starting up his motorbike or car or hot air balloon to make a quick getaway. But in reality the police didn't even give him a second glance, chatting amongst themselves. And Nightmare, surprisingly, hadn't left. He was still sat at the high up table, his gaze cast at Cross directly and eye locking with his.

Shooting him a desperate and pleading look, Cross started pouring the six pints. He knew there was nothing really Nightmare could actually do at the moment, but still had the idea in his mind that the dark skeleton would somehow be able to save the day like a fairytale prince. The octopus only shrugged in response and glanced quickly at the police, expression and pretty neutral. He didn't know what to do either.

Now pouring the pint of coke he dropped a few ice cubes in and wiped his forehead with the back of his sleeve and swallowing the still present lump of sand down his throat. He quickly placed all the glasses on the round black tray and looked down at himself worryingly. The most recognisable things about him were his eyes, and of course- his scar.

A hand reached up to trace the lightning shape red scar on his cheek. That would be a dead giveaway. If the guard actually knew what he looked like, that is. It could be anyone from the prison. Maybe a files keeper, or one of the cooks, or maybe one of the night watch guards. Surely none of them would have been able to look at him close enough for recognition.

With that hopeful thought in his head he picked up the tray and walked out of the bar, his legs feeling like they were made of jelly. It probably looked like he was limping, his body hardly allowing himself to walk straight. About as straight as him--

He eventually made it over to them and cleared his throat, forcing a little smile. "I um- I have your drinks."

The conversations stopped and they gave joking cheers before leaning over to grab their respective drinks. Cross made sure to avoid eye contact with the one who'd ordered a coke - and been from Craitown prison - mostly avoiding eye contact with everyone, actually. He could tell they were staring at him because- of course, why wouldn't they? He was their waiter.

It was only now that Cross realised how uncomfortable waiters must have been when he ordered food with his family or friends years ago. Everyone would stare at them expectantly and often make jokes behind their backs about their nervous stature or stuttered voice. He'd always been the one joining in with the jokes. But this time Cross was the one being joked about behind his back. He wouldn't lie, it made him awfully uncomfortable.

Once the last drink was put down he backed up hastily and clutched the tray to his chest. "Your food will be o-out in around twenty minutes."

They gave a few nods before drinking large swings of their pints, and getting back to chatting amongst themselves. Yet the one with the coke let his gaze linger on him for longer, a narrowed look in his eyes. But Cross didn't let him look for any longer, covering his face with the tray and quickly retreating back to the safety of the bar. He didn't think his soul was ever going to calm down at that point, constantly thundering in his chest like a bird trying to escape it's cage.

It would only get worse when he was forced to bring their food to them. He was sure that that cop would look at him properly, and then all hell would break loose. Nervously smoothing down his clothes, the oreo tried the "works every time relaxation techniques" that he'd watched on a TV in a shop a few weeks after the prison escape. He'd been an emotional wreck at that time, flinching and panicking whenever someone so much as talked to him. It was even worse when he heard sirens; that would send him into a frantic terror that he could barely calm himself from.

Sucking in air deeply he closed his eyes, facing away from the tables at the bar and making sure his back was turned to the cops. Holding the breath for a count of five, he then let it out. Steadily enough his soul slowed and he found himself at least able to relax a little, no longer on the edge of a breakdown.

He continued that for as long as possible, but alas the sound of the kitchen doors opening became coherent and he forced his eyes open to stare as the cooks placed plates of steaming food on the bar for him to serve. He sighed and grabbed two of the plates before stepping out.

Each step he took was forced and laboured, his eyes cast at the ground as he served their meals, mumbling the orders under his breath for them to confirm.

Surprisingly though, he managed to serve six plates without too much trauma, now grabbing the last one along with the napkins and cutlery in his other hand. He slipped out and walked quickly towards the table, just wanting to get this horror show over and hide behind the bar for the rest of this torturous shift. Quickly placing the final plate and cutlery down he smiled shakily and turned on his heels, walking away.

He'd only made it about five steps before someone called out, making his blood run cold.

"Hey!"

His knees went weak and he had to clutch onto the table beside him, feeling like he was about to cry. But he forced himself to turn slowly, facing the person that had called out.

"...Yes?"

"We're short on one pair of cutlery-..." Their sentence cut off and their brown eyes widened, staring directly at the skeleton as if he'd just shot him with a gun.

Cross froze and nearly collapsed there and then, his hands trembling as they clutched the heart locket around his neck. It was him.

"Attention, prisoners escaping. Prisoners escaping." An automated voice called, freezing the two of them. On the floor by their feet, the fallen guard spat a laugh, holding a small remote in his hand with an emergency button, their thumb pressed down on it firmly. "Good l-luck escaping now, scum." (Flashback)

It was the guard who Nightmare had knocked out with the fire extinguisher. The one that had nearly jeopardised their entire escape plan and got them caught.

As soon as they both locked eyes they recognised each other immediately, one's gaze full of surprise and hate while the other's was pure fear.

The man went to stand and Cross quickly stumbled back, his side colliding with a table and nearly sending him sprawling across the floor. "I-I'll get you your cutlery-!" He blurted, breath coming out in ragged gasps as he staggered back to the bar and stood there panicking. So this is what a mid-life crisis felt like.

He couldn't breathe at all, his mind thick with cobwebs preventing him from thinking straight. He'd recognised him. He knew it. He'd seen him, he remembered him, he knew who he was, he knew what he'd done, he knew-

"Excuse me."

Cross froze and slapped his hand over his mouth to stop a gasp, his eyes darting to the person stood in front of the bar. It was him. He held back a whimper and tried to act like he wasn't scared shitless. "O-Oh your cutlery- I-I'm sorry--"

"I'm not interested in the cutlery." Their voice was dangerous and cold, the tone not at all making Cross relax as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a picture. "I'd rather have some help with this..."

He bit his knuckle harshly and looked down the picture placed in front of him, tears pricking in the corners of his eyes. It was a mugshot of him and Nightmare, the picture clearly showing his anguished expression. Nightmare's picture looked more like some snapchat filter, the image of him actually having his middle finger held to the camera.

"Do you recognise these criminals? They escaped from jail six months ago." They raised a brow and stared at him, a slight smirk twitching at the edge of his lips. "We're very anxious to find both of them."

Nodding weakly Cross nearly just gave in and put his hands out in front of him to be cuffed, his throat clogging up with more than just scratchy sandpaper. It was that horrible lump you felt just before - or while - crying, the type that makes your eyes sting and hard to breathe.

He stared at the man's victorious expression weakly, wondering what his chances would be if he smashed one of the empty pint glasses over the back of his head.

But just as he felt like that was his only option, a click rang out and the cop froze, the smirk gone in seconds.

"He wouldn't be bothering you, would he, peanut~?" Nightmare hummed softly and pressed the barrel of his gun harshly against the man's head, his blue eye narrowed at him. "Because we all know that's what I do, and I don't deal well with others trying to do my job."

The man hissed lowly and glanced at him, his dark brown eyes meeting his blue one. "So you're both here, huh?"

"Yeah, incredible coincidence, I know." He drawled, his eye sliding back to look at the unsuspecting cops back at their table. "But here's the deal... You'll let us go, no noise, no fuss, okay?"

"And why the hell would I do that? I could easily yell out right now."

"Yes, but then I'd have to blow your brains out all over this perfectly polished counter." He snickered lowly before leaning closer until his mouth was barely brushing the man's ear. "And besides, you must have some family at home, right? A girlfriend? Boyfriend? Wife? Maybe even some kids? How do you think they'd feel if they were told daddy's brains were blown out all across this lovely little pub~?"

The cop outwardly cringed as the criminal dragged his tongue up his cheek and pressed the gun further into their head. He stayed silent, but it was clear Nightmare had hit a nerve. "You're not getting away with this."

"Watch us." Nightmare hummed and hopped over the bar to Cross' side, the gun still trained at his head. "Just give us ten seconds head start, okay big guy~?"

He flinched and glared at the octopus with a look of pure hatred, his fingers twitching over his belt where Cross could only assume he kept his gun. "You'll be back rotting in prison soon."

"Mm, I'd rather not. The foods shit there." Nightmare grinned before dropping his aim and shooting the directly in the hand, earning an agonised yell before he grabbed onto Cross' arm and yanked him roughly towards the staff only door.

Yells and shouts rang out from behind them, the deafening gunshot obviously having alerted the other cops who were now jumping to their feet in confusion and running over to their bleeding fallen friend.

Nightmare slammed the doors shut behind them and looked down at Cross, adrenaline clearly already pumping through his bones. "So- where's the back entrance?"

"I- you just shot him!"

"Yes, you're very good at observations- but our ten second head start is nearly over so c'mon! Take us out the back entrance! Or do you want to go back to prison?"

It was that sentence that was enough to snap Cross out of his dazed state, quickly grabbing Nightmare's hand and pulling him along through the kitchen where all the cooks shot them confused and shocked looks as one of their shy workers sprinted through the room with a darkly dressed stranger at his heels. That confusion only developed further when four armed police stormed in after, all of them shouting for the two to stop.

Swerving round corners Cross rammed his shoulder into the emergency fire exit, alarms blaring as it swung open and dumped them on the backstreet.

"This way!" Nightmare took off round a corner with the smaller stumbling after him, the same feeling of adrenaline he'd felt in the prison break sending his mind spinning. The feeling was intoxicating, somewhat addicting. He loved it.

"My bikes over here!" Nightmare called, pulling out a pair of keys from his pocket and skidding to a stop by a sleek black looking motorbike. It was huge, definitely an upgrade from the police one he'd stollen before. Launching himself onto it he quickly pulled the only helmet over his head and fumbled with some gloves quickly. "Get on the back, kid!"

Cross didn't need to be told twice, jumping on and flinging his arms tightly around Nightmare's waist and pressing himself as close to his back as possible. He remembered what happened last time they rode a motorbike together, and didn't really want the experience repeated again.

He could feel the engine revving up and Nightmare kicked off the metal stand before the bike roared to life. "Hold on tight!"

The bike launched into action just as the police stumbled out the back door, all pointing their guns blindly at the two criminals on the bike. But it was already zooming past, Nightmare shooting at them as they did so and causing them to fall back and shield themselves.

Cross couldn't help but whoop as they screeched out into the land of moving vehicles outside, the bike easily gliding through the slow moving traffic and jumping any red lights as if they were non-existent.

In front of him Nightmare grinned, turning sharply down a road and dodging beeping cars and yelling pedestrians. He only pressed the accelerator harder, cheering himself as they flew down the hill at speeds that would definitely kill them if an unsuspecting truck decided to pull out or something horribly inconvenient like that.

Cross kept his fingers intertwined tightly around the skeletons waist, his arms digging into his rib cage and surely causing some form of discomfort. But the male didn't say anything about it, too busy swerving to avoid a large double decker bus.

"Hey peanut! Do you like the beach?!" He yelled, his voice snatched away by the wind in seconds so quickly that Cross had to yell back for him to say it again.

"The beach?! Why?"

Nightmare laughed and pointed ahead of them, catching Cross' attention as a sheen of blue became visible over the moving traffic and tall buildings. The white tips of waves were just about visible, the sun reflecting on them brilliantly and sending sparkles across his vision. "Isn't it beautiful?!"

"Yes!" Cross' voice came out quite breathless and he knew Nightmare hadn't heard him. But he honestly couldn't care less at the moment, the adrenaline pumping through him putting him in a oddly ecstatic mood.

The bike roared down the road quickly, the sea seeming to get closer and closer until they burst out of the main road and onto a smaller lazy-moving road with cars pulled up all along the side and parked.

Completely ignoring the "no bikes, motorbikes, cars or vehicles" sign, Nightmare pulled the bike onto the pedestrian only road and yelled for people to get out of the way.

Cross didn't know why, but as they flew down the path, knocking pedestrians out the way and sending dogs mental and straining at the leads, he just felt the urge to throw his arms in the air and scream - like he was on a rollercoaster. The feeling of adrenaline was still icy clear and present, his mouth stretched out in a wide grin as he stared at the sea passing by at a slow crawl. They were travelling fast, but at this angle it didn't look like it. And for that reason he liked it even more.

Nightmare did eventually slow down after ten minutes of swerving and dodging, a whoop leaving him as he threw an arm up in the air. "We made it peanut! They'll never catch us now!"

Instead of warning to octopus to be more careful the smaller gave a delighted laugh and threw one of his arms up in the air to feel the strong ripple of air resistance it was met by. It sent chills all the way down his arms and to his chest, but that didn't bother him in the slightest. He'd never felt so free before.

Even the yelling coastguards and angry pedestrians didn't bother him, his mood far to high to be bothered by the eight year old child they may have knocked over. In fact, for the first time in a long while, he felt that he didn't need to worry about what people thought, or who might recognise him. They were going far too fast for anyone to identify them, and with his scarred cheek pressed into Nightmare's shoulder, his most noticeable feature was covered. And no one could even see what the dark criminal looked like under that black tinted helmet. Everyone probably just saw them as stupid teens taking a bike for their first ride. Or drunk idiots just having the time of their lives.

Sinking against Nightmare's back once more and letting his hand wrap securely back around his waist Cross sighed happily, his eyes closing. He relished the feeling of the air blowing past steadily, its temperature just about cold enough to keep the icy adrenaline in him going for a little longer, but not too cold that he'd start shivering.

Within enough time however Cross' adrenaline rush finally dimmed to a flickering flame in his soul, his body now slumped against the taller and eyes only half open as he watched seagulls swoop down at screaming children on the beach that tried desperately to cover up their ice creams and fish and chips.

Nightmare could clearly tell the smaller was running out of hype and risked a quick glance back to to check he wasn't about to fall off. "You good, pipsqueak?"

"My name is Cross!" He called, digging his chin into his shoulder.

"That's what I said, isn't it?" He laughed and revved up once more to hear Cross' startled squeal before he finally spun them to a stop. "We're here."

Blinking, he looked up in surprise. "We are? Already?"

"It's been an hour, kid." He pulled the helmet off of his head and shook his non-existent hair out, snickering. "You were just too busy drooling on my shoulder to notice."

"I-I was not!" He hissed, feeling his face grow ever-so-slightly hot with embarrassment. "I was just taking in the scenery!"

"Yeah whatever. It is pretty though, isn't it?"

Cross nodded softly and looked back out at the sea where the sun was just setting over it, turning the white capped waves a deep gold and sending dancing sparkles of red, orange and yellow across its rippling surface. It was a perfect picture and he felt he could stare at it forever, his eyes wide and full of awe.

Dragging his bike round the side of a building Nightmare chained it up, a black water proof sheet quickly been thrown over its sleek body and hiding it from view in case any prying cops prowled past. "Right kid do you wanna-..."

He trailed off upon seeing Cross staring out at the sunset, the words dying on his tongue and a smirk forming instead. He slowly crept up behind him and rested his chin on his shoulder, humming. "You like the view?"

Instead of yelping and slapping him like he'd expected, Cross only nodded breathlessly and continued to stare, his eyes locked on the gorgeous scene. "Yeah..."

"Well, let's not stare at it from up here in case someone recognises us. We can watch from my room." He gripped his wrist and tugged him away gently.

"Wait, you live here?" Cross looked at him in surprise, glancing around. "Where?"

Nightmare grinned widely and gave a little spin before bowing, his hands pointing at the building behind him. "Welcome to my home, pumpkin~"

The skeleton frowned and raised a brow, taking in the old building with large windows decorated with candles on the inside. The door was giant and oak, an old brass knocker attached to it and the wood looking so old that it could be hundreds of years old. The walls were made of brick that actually looked quite new in some places, others, like the left side looked a lot older and dustier. But Cross' eyes didn't linger on those features for long, his pupils instead fixing on the two rainbow flags that hung from poles above the door on either side, their colours flapping in the wind clearly.

"...You live in a gay bar?"

"No, idiot." Nightmare scoffed, looking at him as if he'd just asked him where babies came from. "I live above the gay bar, duh."

Cross blinked rapidly and stared after the octopus as he marched ahead of him and pushed open the heavy oak door as if it was nothing, his expression helpless. "Of course- why should I have expected anything more?"

Stepping quickly after the octopus he slipped through just before the door could slam shut and snap his bones in half, his chest quickly thumping into someone's back. For a terrible moment he dreaded it was some stranger, but then he felt something cold twitch by his face and he recognised it as one of Nightmare's four tentacles.

"Careful kid, damn."

He didn't respond to him and simply gripped onto the sleeve of his hoodie instead so as not to get separated, his eyes darting all over the dimly lit bar where people were already crowding up. Surprisingly it didn't look any different from a normal bar, looking like the pub he worked- used to work in. But much smaller, much messier, and much more crowded. Small tables were squashed in everywhere and people were already slumped up against them with drinks in their hands. A large TV was held up in the far corner of the room with about three battered sofas surrounding it, people spilling all over those as well.

Tall stools stood up against the bar that were mostly empty, one rather drunk looking man flirting with the bartender who was having none of it. All over the walls he found it interesting to see that they'd either been painted with different symbols and sceneries, or were covered in drinks coasters that made a rather effective collage of mosaic like style. The floor was uneven rough wood, knots and dips in it making Cross trip as he stumbled behind the taller skeleton. There was only one more LGBT flag hanging up over the bar, along with a sign nailed above the counter reading "no homophobics allowed". That got a snicker out of him at least.

Slipping through the crowds of already tipsy people, Nightmare pulled the smaller over to a back door that read "STAFF AND TENANTS ONLY". He pulled out a key from his pocket and glanced back at him quickly before inserting the key and twisting. He had to give the door a good shove before it swung open to reveal a dark corridor that lead to a rather old looking staircase.

Cross quickly followed behind Nightmare and let the taller shut and lock the door behind him before finally speaking. "Aren't they a bit loud? How do you get to sleep?"

He hummed and swung the keys round on his finger through the ring, shrugging. "I normally go down for a few pints before I sleep. That way I'm drunk enough to hear it all as background noise."

"Of course." Cross rolled his eyes and sighed as he started up the stairs after Nightmare and staring at the back of his skull. "Why did I even bother thinking your answer with something sensible?"

"Wh- that is sensible!" He shot a look back at him. "You just don't know how to have fun."

"No- I know how to have fun." He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as they got to the top of the stairs. "Your definition of fun is just a lot more stupid and reckless than mine."

Scoffing, he caught his eyes with his single blue one and held it. "Your definition of fun is probably scrabble and window washing."

"No?" He gave him an incredulous look. "Do I really give off that vibe?"

"Not gonna lie, yeah." He snickered and went to one of two doors, pushing the rusty key in quickly and turning it until the nice little clicking sound rang out. He gripped onto the handle and let the door swing open before pausing, his body blocking the doorway.

"Uh... Nightmare?" Cross frowned and tried to slip past him, only to stumbled back as the taller whipped around and planted a hand firmly on his chest, his other arm up against the door frame and his smile wider than ever. "Wh--"

"I have an idea."

"I'm already scared."

Tsking lightly he shook his head and hummed. "So, here's a deal - we do something I find fun, tonight. And tomorrow, we can do something you call fun, yeah?"

Cross blinked and stared up at him, his hands clasped tightly together. "Will your fun get us killed, hurt, caught by the police or hung from a noose?"

"...Possibly the last one, but the others? No."

"I- You're kidding, right--" He winced, already getting that sinking feeling in his gut that he always got when he knew he was about to make  - or agree to - a very bad decision.

"Perhaps." Nightmare's expression held no hints or giveaways, just showcasing the usual smirk and glint in his eye.

"...What would this fun be?" He asked warily, checking even though he knew he'd end up agreeing to somehow whether he wanted to or not.

"I'll show you when we get downstairs."

Biting his lip anxiously, Cross slowly gave a small nod. "Okay, fine. But I want to relax a bit first before you drag me into the fiery pits of hell."

Grinning triumphantly he stepped aside and let Cross enter the room. "Been there and done that, not as interesting as you might think."

Ignoring him he slipped past him and blinked, staring into the messy room. Two rucksacks had been dumped by the doorway, items of clothing and other things he didn't bother identifying. The floor was gnarled and uneven wood with a messy brown rug thrown over it that looked like it had seen many years of wear. The walls were painted and white, but some of the paintwork had been picked or peeled off to reveal the red brickwork and wooden beams beneath it.

One naked bulb hung from the ceiling and cast a yellow glow across the room, shadows looking down at them ominously from the walls. There was a decent sized window framed to face the ocean, Cross' eyes lighting up as he watched the last of the sun's burning red glow dip under the waves and fade away.

His eye wandered across the rest of the room's features before he realised something, something that made his 'stomach' twist and expression fall. There was only one bed.

It was surprisingly well made, the blankets pulled up to the singular white pillow that sat plumply like an overweight cat.

"Yeah, I know what you're thinking, and you're sleeping on the rug." Nightmare grunted and dropped his helmet down on the ancient looking desk by the door, stretching.

"Wh- the rug?" Cross cast a distasteful look down at it and cringed, his shoe even reluctant to nudge its corse looking fabric. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Nope." He snickered and crossed his arms behind the back of his head, shooting him a look. "Unless you want to snuggle up on my lap, that is~"

Hissing under his breath he looked away to cover the flood of colour he knew very well had surged across his face. "I'll pass, thanks."

"That's a shame." He enjoyed hearing the sharp intake of breath he got from the smaller and kicked off his shoes, feet now propped up on the bed frame. "But the offers open."

"Great to know." He muttered, deciding to walk over to the window and stare out at the view instead of being subjected to Nightmare's awful grinning expression.

From his position here he could see a nice view of the street that ran along the sea edge, the tall street lamps had started lighting up to illuminate the pathway for the many groups and couples of people pressed together and walking down happily together while sharing bags of fish and chips or hot honey roasted chestnuts. It got dark surprisingly quickly, with the sun now gone all the lighting came electronically, the softly glowing light from open house windows spilling across the small front gardens and porch lights making tiles golden.

It wasn't the most incredible window view he'd ever had the pleasure of seeing, but it would still make a very nice painting.

From down below the constant chatter and shuffling of people was like a gentle drum in his 'ears'. He was pleasantly surprised at how little the voice bothered him, it being - as Nightmare said - more like background noice, like the washing of the waves against the pebble shores ahead.

But then again, it was still early hours. And more people were bound to arrive as the night wore on. In fact, from his position up at the window, he could see a small group of three men and one woman walking towards the building before disappearing out of sight below the window. The only induction he got that they actually went in was the rise of volume from downstairs as people loudly greeted them. They must be local attenders then.

He could have stood there for ages and stare at the steadily darkening scenery before gasping and ducking away from the glass as the distressing blue and red flashing lights of police cars crawled slowly down the road in the traffic.

Pressing himself against the wall he cast a quick look at Nightmare, who only snorted in response. "Don't be stupid, squirt. They don't know we're here. They're just patrolling past, hell, they might not even be for us."

Swallowing harshly Cross nodded and tried to relax, a little embarrassed by how stupidly he'd acted. Of course they didn't know they were here, how could they? The only source they could have is people complaining about two reckless 'teens' zooming down the pedestrian path on a motorbike. But even so, surely they wouldn't have seen them go inside the bar.

He found anxiety gnawing at his chest and he quickly took a peek, his body stiff and tense. For a moment he could have sworn he saw an officer striding towards the building, but relief flooded his body as he realised that it was only a man dressed in black and blue stripes, a faux police cap on his head. Yeah, he definitely wasn't police.

But he did see the car again, two of them now gliding down the road observantly. And he could make out at least four policemen walking along the path they'd zoomed down, questioning a few people. He held his breath a bit as one old woman indicated vaguely in their direction before giving a few dramatic hand gestures.

"Kid step away from the window." Nightmare growled, a tentacle curling around his wrist and dragging him over to the bed. "You're giving me anxiety."

He yelped and stumbled, having to grip onto his shoulder firmly go prevent himself toppling on top of him. "Hey!"

Grunting, Nightmare reached out another tentacle and yanking the curtains closed. "Just stop worrying, the sniffer dogs will smell your fear."

"They will?"

"No, kid, they won't." He groaned and rubbed his face with his hands. "This bar smells so much like alcohol that the damn mutts would probably get drunk off it."

Sitting uncomfortably down on the edge of the bed he squeezed the palms of his hands together tightly, his teeth nibbling at his bottom 'lip' until it bled. "Good."

A painfully loud silence washed over the two and they sat motionlessly for a good minute or two before Nightmare thumped him on the back and shoved him off the bed. "C'mon runt, let's go have some fun."

Getting a wonderful face full of scratchy carpet, the skeleton gagged and lurched away from the stink, his palms now feeling itchy. "What the hell was that for?!"

"I tapped you like three times. You just stared at the wall like a zombie through it." He shrugged and got to his feet, trainers pulled back on and hood up over his skull. "Now hurry up, we made a deal."

Cursing him under his breath Cross ignored his offered hand and got to his feet, irritably brushing off any strands of brown carpet string and flicking them at the octopus as he opened the door. He told himself he wouldn't talk to Nightmare again after that, but as soon as they were descending down the old wooden stairs to the door that lead to the noise-increasing bar, he felt the urge to blurt out at least one sentence.

"What do we do if the police walk in-?"

Pushing the key into the lock carelessly after four good attempts at stabbing it into the wood and scratching it across the metal around the keyhole. It was an event that Cross rather wished he hadn't witnessed, the taller's inability to insert a key into a lock reminding him of his desperate fumble with the keys back when Nightmare had left him to rot in their cell with a ring of 200 keys of which only one was theirs.

"First try." He muttered and pushed the door open before casting a quick look back at Cross. "And if they come - which they won't - the bartender can either let us hide behind the bar, or we can rush back up here if we're quick enough. Plus most of them are homophobic, so they'll be kicked out anyway." He snickered, as if recalling a funny memory. "Yeah, they'd be kicked out pretty fast."

"You seem so certain." He flinched as the loud boom of noice and music flooded from the now open doorway, the dark stairway being such a contrast from the bright bar that he squinted.

"Look Cameron - or whatever your name is - if you're going to stick with me, you're going to have to trust me."

"Wh- Cameron-? Who the fuc--" He went to remind him of his actual name for probably the third time that night, but cut off as the octopus easily pushed through the crowds and left him standing all alone.

Ignoring any of the looks he got from strangers, he shoved his hands into his pockets and tried to slip through the gaps of people standing around. Yes, some shoulder barging was necessary, but he only got a few growled warnings or soft apologies.

Soon enough he made it to the bar where Nightmare was already sat, a pint of something alcoholic in his hand. Situating himself up onto the empty bar seat beside him, Cross glanced back at the crowded bar and shivered, his body tensing up every time he saw the top of the door swing open to welcome someone else into the hazardous bar.

"They're not here, relax." Nightmare rolled his eyes and pushed a glass onto Cross' hands, a neutral look cast back at the entrance. "Just have a few drinks, and the worry will he washed away."

"What a damn pickup line..." He shook his head softly but took the drink all the same. Raising it to his 'lips' he took a quick sip, the liquid streaming down his throat and leaving hot tingles that left him craving more. God, alcohol could be so dangerous.

Grinning widely Nightmare took a gulp from his own pint, his finger reaching out to flick Cross on the nose. "I'll make a party animal out of you yet."

Downing the rest of his drink in one long gulp Cross wiped his mouth and gave him a worn stare, the empty glass now turning in his hands. "No need, I do know how to have fun."

——————

It had been about two hours. And they were both on their fifth pint, Nightmare just finishing, Cross just starting. They'd moved from the bar to one of the old worn black sofas in the corner by the front door, they were both rather tipsy, Nightmare snickering some racy comments while Cross only shoved him in response, giggling.

"You're a- you're a real asshole, you know that?" Cross mumbled, his head now resting on Nightmare's shoulder and free arm poking at one of his tentacles.

"Still?" He raises a non-existent brow and pulled him a little closer, an arm around his shoulders and rubbing softly at his arm.

"Mm, maybe a little less. You were an absolute dick back in jail..." The last word came out like a warning hiss, a few snickers following after. "But you helped me escape...!" His expression went from a childish scowl to a little smile, his eyes focused on his drink as it sloshed around in his glass with every drunken eccentric move he made.

"You were a bit of an asshole too, you know." He plucked the drink from his hand and laughed, watching Cross' horrified expression. "H-Hey!"

"I specifically remember how you chose to sit your ass down on my seat just to aggravate me. And then you added insult to injury by saying you didn't know who I was."

"Wh- I didn't know it was your seat!" He slurred, his eyes narrowing. "Not everyone in the world needs to know who you are."

Snorting loudly Nightmare downed the rest of Cross' pint, covering a burp after. "That's completely incorrect, I'll have you know."

"Mm, whatever." He mumbled and sunk into Nightmare a little more, his pupils flicking over the unrecognisable faces swirling around him at the bar. His vision wasn't yet warping in and out of focus, everyone just seeming blurry and saturated instead. He could barely make out Nightmare anymore, his eye being a icy pool of shining blue with everything else looking like it had been covered with an oil brush filter. It wasn't a bad look, though.

He subconsciously found himself leaning closer to the taller and his hand managed to situate itself on his knee, rubbing soft circles as he stared up at him.

Nightmare had his classic lazy smirk still spread across his face, a brow raised and pupil shining with mischief. But instead of making some sort of snarky comment he stayed quiet, leaning with the smaller to the point where their foreheads could have touched.

Cross didn't know if it was the alcohol, but his senses were on fire. He'd never been so close to Nightmare before - apart from that one time in the supply closet - and honestly, his body didn't know how to react. His soul was clearly thumping loudly in his chest, battering against his rib cage like the waves along the shorefront rocks. Except this didn't have any sort of melodic rhythm, just frantic, uneven hammering that gave the illusion of physical pain.

His palms felt sweaty, so much so that if he tried to reach for his glass, it would have slid right through his fingers and shattered onto the floor. If he had been standing, his legs would have given out beneath him, the joints having turned to Auntie Bessie's miracle golden butter. He could feel his body actually trembling, a horrible churning pit of twisted emotion building up in his 'stomach' and sending waves of unwanted heat up to his cheeks.

Alcohol had already stained his cheeks with a purple flush, but now it had gotten noticeably darker. Why wasn't he shoving him away? Why hadn't he slapped him yet? Why hadn't he died from cardiac arrest? Why didn't he want this to stop?

He hated Nightmare, didn't he? He was just a egotistical dick who's only desire was to destroy other people's lives while reaching the maximum on his own. As long as he didn't get caught, he couldn't care less.

But then again- that couldn't be right. If that was so, Nightmare would have ditched him as soon as those cops walked into the pub all those hours ago. He would have ran without a second thought. ...So maybe he'd changed?

Honestly he couldn't care less at the moment, his only concern being how close their faces were together. One more inch and they'd be-

Nightmare hummed and reached a hand up to brush over Cross' cheek, his pupil fixated on his half-lidded hetrochromic eyes. They were enrapturing; he could stare into them all day. He definitely noticed how close they were to each other and carelessly gripped onto his hip, which warned a soft flinch but no breaking of eye contact.

He'd just about made up his mind to do something he'd probably think later as stupid and reckless, but before he had a chance to actually do it, he saw something. A flash of blue.

Pulling abruptly away from Cross and standing up, he froze at the sight of four police men marching through the doorway and pushing people out the way. Drinks were spilt and protesting yells rang out as they were moved aside, the officers powering through the crowd like a shark through fish.

They were clearly searching faces, their caps whipped off to get a better look at everyone. He noticed however that they steered clear of the few couples making out against the walls and kissing on the sofas, simply casting disgusted looks at them before moving on.

"Holly fuck, kid- get on my lap--"

"Wh- hEY-?" Cross yelped as Nightmare sat down abruptly and tugged him roughly onto his lap, the smaller's legs on either side of his waist and chests pressed together. "What are you--"

"Shut it." He growled, quickly tugging his hood up over his skull and letting his tentacles retract into his back. Risking a quick look back at the guards, he cursed as he saw how close they were.

"Don't open your eyes." He muttered before pressing a hand on Cross' cheek to cover his scar, the bone being met with a pleasant warmth. He then shoved his face into the crook of his neck, breathing hotly on it and letting his 'lips' brush against his white, unmarked bone.

Gasping, Cross gripped onto him tightly, his eyes going wide before he spotted the officers. They immediately snapped shut, his breath hitching at the feeling of Nightmare's hot breath hitting his neck. It sent deep tremors through his body, which only elevated as he felt his lot tongue drag up to his jaw.

Nightmare enjoyed the sharp intake of breath he got from the smaller, his eye narrowed and fixated on the shadows of the incoming cops. He could sense them staring at the two of them, but they didn't come any closer. He did try not to actually do anything more to Cross' neck other than lick it, but he soon found himself sucking at a particular bit, Cross trembling in his grip.

Within seconds he'd turned to putty in his hands, gasping and panting as his teeth nipped away persistently at his neck until a dark purple mark started forming.

"N-Nightmare- Mm...! I-I-" He bit his 'lip' tightly till it bled, his head tipped back in bliss and hands not knowing where to grip onto. They fumbled on his back before falling to his waist, grasping that firmly. But within seconds, they'd slid back up to around the back of his neck. The ripples of pleasure he felt roll through his boy were indescribable, his skull so lightheaded that he felt he was floating.

Regretfully, the dark skeleton pulled away before he took anything too far, his head moving ever-so-slightly and pupil sliding over to where he'd seen the police last. They were gone.

Craning his neck back Nightmare grinned widely as he saw the four officers being roughly bustled out of the bar by angry party makers, the door slamming shut behind them. That was a near scraping of a close call.

Glancing at Cross he went to push him off of his lap, only to pause upon seeing his dazed and spaced expression. His eyes were barely open, cheeks dark with blush and a small line of drool leaked down his chin. "Oh."

He then noticed the quickly darkening hickey he'd unintentionally left on his neck. "Ah- whoops."

Grabbing him by the arms he dragged the drunken skeleton off of him and to his feet. "C'mon pumpkin, it's past your bed time."

Groaning weakly and slumping against him Cross shook his head and weakly reached out to the near-empty glass of alcohol on the table, nothing more than an inch pooling at the bottom.

"I think you've had enough alcohol for tonight, peanut." He snickered and pulled him away, dragging him through the crowds to the back door and fishing for his keys through his pockets. Finding them and shoving the right one into the lock first time (actually) he kicked it open and staggered through with the smaller, both their sense of direction so horrible that he couldn't even figure out whether the stairs went up or down as he stared at them.

Thankfully he remembered to lock the door behind them before marching towards the stairs like they'd just offended his grandma.

Turns out being drunk makes you shit at climbing stairs.

They fell down at least seven times, it taking five attempts before they even reached the first platform to collapse against the banisters for rest. Cross was seemed half asleep, still stunned and spaced out from their moment earlier while Nightmare was just having a hard time telling whether the old crumpled boots at the top of the stairs were old crumpled boots, or rabid rabbits pointing a gun at him. The similarities were uncanny, I swear.

"C'mon-" He grunted and grabbed Cross by the wrist, stumbling up the stairs and banging his shins on the hard wood so many times that he'd wake up sore in the morning.

Once finally at the top of the stairs Nightmare roughly kicked the pair of boots down the stairs, spitting as he watched them tumble down before coming to a splayed stop forlornly at the bottom of the stairs. "Damn rabbits."

As soon as he was sure the boo- rabbits were dead, he spun round and walked right into the door to his room, frowning distastefully at the pain that action caused. He grumbled something under his breath and unlocked the door with minor difficulties, actually better at it drunk than he was sober.

The door flew open ungracefully and Cross stumbled through, collapsing on the bed without a thought. And within seconds, he was snoring.

"Now remember, you're sleeping on the carp-... wow." He gave up mid-sentence upon seeing the skeleton fast asleep on the bed, having not even bothered moving aside the blankets. He sighed loudly and kicked off his shoes onto the corner of the room, his hoodie being thrown off quickly as well to be replaced with a large grey sweater he used for sleeping in. Pulling it over his skull he stared at the smaller, a slight smile twitching at his lips as he thought of how they'd nearly kissed him earlier.

He was relived they didn't, honestly. It would have been wrong to do that while drunk, when he didn't know if anything Cross said or did was true to his actual thoughts. He knew alcohol could do crazy things to someone's mind.

Just like dad-

Shaking his head quickly, he dragged the pillow out from under across' skull, the smaller's head thumping into the mattress with a soft sound that reminded him of a cat deciding your chest is the perfect place to land a roundhouse kick. Except this one was a bit gentler.

He tossed the pillow onto the floor and grunted, standing at the end of the bed and staring at Cross' feet. And no, not in the creepy way. Reaching out, he undid the laces from one of the black trainers and slowly slipped it off, pausing every time the oreo would twitch or mumble in his sleep.

Eventually both shoes were removed and tossed to the side of the room, Cross now left in thin black socks. Grunting he turned and sat down on the scratchy black carpet, cringing. He would have shoved Cross off of the bed and claimed it as his own, but for some reason he just didn't feel like it tonight.

He settled down and sighed, staring up at the cracked and worn ceiling tiredly. Why wasn't he? It was probably the alcohol. Yeah, that makes sense.

It was making him feel a little softer. And he was too tired to go through the effort of moving him. Yeah. That was it. He was tired.

And the alcohol of course.

——————

He woke up to a shriek.

"wHAT IS THAT?!"

Blinking groggily Nightmare forced his eye open, a startled and confused groan leaving him as he sat up abruptly. Instantly as he did so his back screamed with pain, the carpet having done absolutely nothing to cushion his spine from the hard wooden floor last night. A horrible click rang out and he audibly gasped, hissing in pain. "Lord almighty-"

His head felt like it had been slammed in between two desks multiple times, then stitched back up by a whale. What a hangover.

The source of the shriek had come from the small and mouldy bathroom that lead off from the room, the door swinging wide open to let a furious Cross storm out.

He looked both scared, embarrassed and enraged, his face a very clear shade of purple. "What-" He hissed, "is tHIS?!"

Nightmare blinked as Cross jabbed at his neck, his eye widening slightly he saw the large, deep and very dark hickey on his neck. "Uh--"

"How the hell did I get this-?" He seethed, glaring at him. "You better answer in three damn seconds or I swear--"

"You don't remeber-?" Nightmare stared up at him, incredulous.

All the colour drained from his face in that one sentence and any expression he might have possessed switched to pure horror, his teeth nibbling at his 'lip'. "R-Remember what...?"

"Oh god, you really don't remember?" He got to his feet, his bones creaking and cracking with every moment to the point where he sounded like an old timber ship. "Wow."

"What the hell happened?!" His voice was urgent, and he clearly wanted to know the answer. But at the same time he really didn't.

"...We had sex--"

"We wHAT?!" He shrieked again, the envelope opener left on the table in his hand within seconds, the blunt-yet-sharp blade pointed directly at him.

"JESUS CHRIST I'M KIDDING--" He spluttered, tripping and falling back in surprise.

"THEN WHAT HAPPENED?!" He yelled in response, still waving the 'knife' around with the intent to stab.

"HOLY- I'LL EXPLAIN IF YOU PUT THE KNI- ENVELOPE OPENER DOWN--" He held his hands up in defence and indicated at the table, his back pressed uncomfortably up against the wall.

Glancing down at the weapon in his hand Cross growled and shot Nightmare a warning glare before dropping it to the floor. "Talk. Now."

"I saved you from a drunk bearded man-"

"Tell the truth."

"You won't like it."

"Nightmare." His voice gave a threatening warning, his eyes narrowed to slits. "Tell me."

"Alright," he rubbed the back of his neck and glanced at the hickey "I gave it to you."

"You little--"

"Hey- hey- let me finish, okay?" He lowered his hands from his face, blinking. "We were both drunk when the cops came. There was no time to jump behind the bar or get to here, so we were stuck. And the only way they wouldn't check us was if we were being all gross and lovey. Sooo... I uh, gave you a hickey--"

"You're a damn idiot, you know that?" He hissed, his face flushed hotly and hands balled into fists. "You didn't have to leave that big of a mark!"

"...In my defence, you enjoyed it--"

That earned him a good slap.

——————

Cross glared at himself in the mirror as he pulled the grey turtleneck sweater further up his neck to cover that horrible mark, his cheeks still infuriatingly hot.

He'd forced Nightmare to give him his sweater so that the mark could be covered, the thought of going anywhere public with it making him feel sick. But unhelpfully, the sweater smelt strongly of Nightmare. It was an alcoholic smell, mixed with the musky sent of motorbike oil. The fact that he didn't hate it surprised him. In fact, he really liked the smell of it, the sleeves pulled over the palms of his hands and held up to his face to inhale the smell. God, he was acting like some lovesick teen.

"Kid! Are we going or not?" Nightmare's voice called out from the other side of the door, kicking his feet against the floor. "No one can even see it, stop worrying."

"You have no say in this." He hissed, storming to the door and shoving it open. "This is your damn fault anyway."

Stumbling out of the way of being battered by the door, Nightmare yelped and stared at him. He tried not to, but the urge to snicker at Cross' expression was very strong, and after a few seconds of holding his breath he couldn't help but snort.

"Nightmare I swear to god--" He looked at the table for the envelope opener he'd threatened him with last night, only to find that it wasn't there.

"Looking for something?"

He glared at him tartly when he saw the shiny, blunt object in Nightmare's hand, the blade spinning through his fingers carelessly.

"Yeah, you're not going to threaten me again this time." He grinned and slipped it into his pocket before grabbing a grey beanie hat from the desk and a pair of black gloves. "But c'mon now, let's get going."

Cross grumbled an insult under his breath to the taller before pulling open the door for them and stepping out. Nightmare followed close behind, a large coat with a fur hood being pulled from the hook on the back of the door before he wriggled into it and pulled the hood up. It was an easy and quick way to not get recognised from behind.

Following the moody skeleton down the stairs, he cast an amused expression at the mangled pair of boots that had been tossed to the bottom, that short frame of the previous night having been erased from his memory. Probably for the better.

Unfortunately for Cross, he had to wait for Nightmare at the bottom so that he could unlock the door, refusing completely to even glance in his direction. His poor mind was desperately trying to recall last night; all he could remember were drinks - lots of them - and them moving from the bar to a sofa. And more drinks, and then--

It just went blank.

He hated what Nightmare had told him, adamant he was lying. But then again, if he was, he would have received a hickey from an absolute stranger. And that idea sounded a lot worse. In fact, the mere thought of it made him shudder and gag, his fingers tugging at the fabric of Nightmare's sweater sleeves.

The bar was quiet in the morning, only two people sat up at the stools and drinking, ignoring each other completely. All remnants of last night had been cleared away the bar clean and prepared for the next night.

He stayed a good meter behind Nightmare as they walked out, not wanting to be too close. It was a bit childish, but that was how he chose to deal with it.

Outside was cold. Really cold. The sun shone down at them harshly, but instead of waves of warm heat, it radiated ice. Thick grey clouds passed by it every few minutes and cast the seaside into black shadows, the seagulls momentarily going silent and even the waves pausing. But then they'd pass, and everything would warp back to normal. It was like someone was flicking a switch on a TV, turning them from the normal channel to an old, static black and white one instead.

A shiver rolled through his body and he huffed, his breath coming out in a little cloud in front of his face. In front of him Nightmare stretched, his arms high above his head and fingers interlocked. "So peanut, what are we doing for your session of 'fun'? It better not be breakfast bingo with all the fossils of the town."

Shooting him a tired look Cross shrugged, glancing around. He had only been down this area once before when he was searching for a job. But he'd never really explored.

"Well?"

"I'm thinking, shut up." He looked away from his irritating face and stared at the sea instead, the rolling waves calming him a little. What could they do?

And then he heard a shriek. It came from far away, and it wasn't from fear. It was more from excitement really, and it came from the direction of the pier...

His pupils sliding over to the long stretching pier, his eyes locked on the funfair built at the end, three large twisting rollercoasters, a Ferris wheel, two merry-go-rounds, helter skelters and little amusement stands. A slight grin formed on his face and he nodded, his focus now back on Nightmare who was also looking at the pier, already getting the message.

"...No."

"Yes!"

"No." He rolled his eye and shook his head, staring at him. "We're not seven."

"Oh come on! This is my idea of fun! ...And you did promise, we agreed." He offered a sly look and rose a brow. "Unless you revoke your promise."

Snorting, Nightmare looked away. "We made a deal kid, not a promise. There's a big difference."

"Such as?"

"I twist deals, I don't break promises." Cross wanted to snicker but Nightmare's face was dead serious, not a hint of emotion in it.

"O-Oh." He quickly coughed, quickly feeling like a total asshole. "Sorry."

Sighing loudly Nightmare waved him away, his arms now crossed behind the back of his skull. "Whatever, lets just go. It's not like we've got anything better to do."

Skipping along beside him Cross laughed, doing a rather cringy fist pump in the air. "Yes! I promise you won't regret this!"

"Mhm." He hummed doubtfully, his eye fixed on the twisting and turning rollercoasters that dropped, dipped and looped all over the place. They looked so unstable, rusty built metal scraps with creaky joints and loose bolts that made you feel like the whole thing would just collapse beneath you. Yeah, he wasn't so keen on those.

Cross didn't really notice Nightmare's slight wariness, more focused on how cold it got as the sun was once more swallowed by the gaping mouths of clouds. His shivers did catch the octopus' attention however, his hands falling to his sides.

"Cold?" He glanced at the smaller as they walked down the pier, hands messing with his bike gloves.

"No." The monochrome muttered, his eyes fixated on the floor and staring through the gaps in the wooden slabbed pier, just about able to pick out the sea rushing past beneath them, its colour black and swirling.

The sound of shuffling ran out beside him but he ignored it, only to yelp as something warm and heavy was sling across his shoulders. Looking up in surprise he was met with a face full of fur, blinking rapidly. "Wh-"

It was Nightmare's coat.

"You look like you're about to freeze. Don't bother denying it." He grunted, continuing to walk onwards and leaving the smaller behind.

Watching him in surprise Cross' hands creeped up to grip onto the edges of the coat and pulling it further around his shoulders. He wanted to take it off as so to not give Nightmare the satisfaction. But lord, he was so cold.

Slipping his hands through the furry arm holes he bit his lip, the warmth it gave off incredible. He tugged it around himself firmly, the hood pulling up over his skull and swamping it.  It was like the cold was just, gone.

After five minutes they made it to the end of the pier, now entering the fairground. Cross looked around in awe while Nightmare stared over the edge of the pier distastefully, the black water lapping at the old and probably rotting wooden beams not giving him the best confidence in this place.

"Where should we go first?" He looked around excitedly and rubbed his hands together, eyes darting across everything. "There's so much to choose from!"

"Mm, how about hook a duck." Nightmare stepped away from the creaky wooden barrier - the only thing stopping him from toppling into the water - and trudged to his side. "Or coconut bowl?"

Raising a brow Cross looked at him, shaking his head. "Pff, are you real? No. We're going to do the fun things. Liiiiikkkeee... THAT!"

He pointed dramatically up at one of the rollercoasters, Nightmare's stomach doing a little flip as he did so. "That one, looks like good fun."

"Ah, Yes. Fun." Staring at the screaming people that were thrown about violently in the carts, he bit his 'lip'. "Of course."

Grabbing his wrist Cross tugged him towards the already long clue, a childish smile on his face. "It'll be great, I swear!"

"I believe you." He didn't look down at him, his eye continuing to follow the people's terrifying journey as they turned corners sharper then a knife, plummeted at angles that would make maths teachers sweat, and inclines that were so steep that they bent back on themselves in multiple places. "...Very much."

Thankfully to Nightmare, and annoyingly to Cross, the queue moved very slowly. It was a slow and lazy crawl that winded through barriers where whining and snivelling kids complained about how their feet hurt from standing while stuffing their faces with sweets. No remorse felt.

"You do realise we have to pay to go on these, right?" Nightmare glanced at him. "And I'm definitely not coughing up."

Frowning Cross dug through his pockets, his fingers desperately wiggling about in the dark, slightly fluffy insides to find any spare change. They came in contact with something cold and round and he laughed in triumph before pulling out a fifty pence piece. "...Ah."

"You're rich." Nightmare coughed before faking remorse. "But not rich enough to go on the roller-Maraca what a shame."

"Roller-Maraca? It's a rollercoaster-" He huffed, his hands now digging through the pockets of Nightmare's coat. "And we are going on it."

"Well no, were- hey--" He watched as Cross pulled out a five pound note from one of his pockets, grinning. "Aha!"

"Wh- you're not making me spend my money on shit I don't want to do-"

"But Nightmaaarrreeeee...!" He whined childishly and clutched the money to his chest. "It'll be really fun! You won't regret it."

"You know what? I have a feeling I will." He grumbled, but even so he reluctantly let the smaller hand his 'hard earned money' to the ticket boy leant tiredly against the desk in his booth. He looked incredibly bored, only muttering a "enjoy" and sliding the two blue tickets to Cross' awaiting hands. And that was the last he saw of his fiver.

In reality he'd pickpocketed that from one of the posh snobby women just as they'd left the bar, the money practically hanging from her back pocket carelessly. I mean, if people weren't going to be sensible with money, they shouldn't deserve to have it.

Pulling him along behind him Cross shuffled excitedly along the queue, the tickets grasped tightly in his left hand which was then pushed in his pocket. He didn't want to loose them. Craning his neck back to get a proper look, he stared at all the twists and drops, shifting from foot to foot in anticipation. It was years since he'd last gone on a rollercoaster. At least seven.

It was a good minute till the long row of carts slid to a stop, it's windswept passengers either looking terrified, excited or shook. They could barely walk as they stumbled off of the carts, everyone's eyes wide and unsettled, like a cornered animal's.

A tall, blond and over-makeuped woman ushered the first group forwards and smiled brightly, a smudge of her red lipstick smeared on her front teeth and annoying Nightmare to no end. "Good afternoon you lovely people! I hope you're all ready to go on our raging rollercoaster!"

"Now, if any of you have changed your mind or want to leave, I suggest you go now. But you will not get refunded." She flashed a Colgate smile and her blue eyes swept across the small crowd expectantly.

Nightmare attempted to take that offer, turning on his heels and taking one step back towards the main pier before Cross grasped hold of his arm and yanked him back. "Wh-"

"You're not chickening out of this, Nightmare. You said you'd do my version of fun, so let's do it!" He tugged on his wrist as the woman guided them towards the carts.

"I think I will-"

"Oh look!" She squealed, pointing at the two of them. "You get to be our lucky two front seaters!"

"Hey wait I don't-" Nightmare yelped as he was bustled forcefully into the seat by both Cross and the woman, his spluttered protests cut off completely and ignored as she pulled the safety bar thing over their heads.

"Ladies and gentlemen, non-binary and undecideds, your raging rollercoaster ride will he commencing in a few seconds, and I ask you to keep your legs and arms inside the vehicle at all times except for throwing back to add to the experience!"

Gripping the bar in front of him tightly the octopus shot Cross an anxious look. "I want to get off-"

"Oh don't worry scaredy cat, it will be great!" He rolled his eyes and leant back against his surprisingly comfy seat, fingers drumming at the bar.

"No I--" He didn't get a chance to finish, the clunk of the safety catch on the carts being released before they slowly started crawling forwards. "Oh fuck-"

It moved slowly at first, the momentum slowly building up as they went down a gentle slope that gave a great display of the scenery around them. It was one of those coasters that build up, staring off gently and calm at first before absolutely destroying you. Like the dragon ride or log flume at Lego land.

And then the first real dip came into view. It was sharper than the previous, and lead up to a slope, that lead to a dip, that lead to a slope.

At the first one Nightmare gasped, doubling over a bit. "I want to get off--"

"What? Don't be stupid, you can't get off now." Cross laughed loudly and threw his hands up as they reached the second dip, this one much steeper. "Just let go and relax!"

"Let go? I'll fucking die!" He hissed, a sharp intake of breath taken as they came up to a turn. "You're maAAD-"

He and about ten other people all yelled at the sudden twisting turn, their bodies being thrown to the side and hips banging harshly against the metal side. It wasn't two seconds before they were flung in the other direction, Nightmare's skull colliding with Cross' with a thump that sent stars across his vision.

In fact, soon enough they'd got through almost all of the ride, only the final incline and decent left. It was steep. Very steep. In fact, it was practically vertical. It dragged them up slowly and torturously, their bodies being pressed back in the seats rather forcefully and giving he feeling of an invisible hand pushing harshly at your chest.

And then they finally peaked at the edge, the cart suspended for a few moments. Nightmare groaned and made the mistake of looking down at one point, his soul instantly plummeting at sight of how low down the pier was. The people looked like ants scurrying about slowly, the stands being nothing more than misshapen blobs.

"Nightmare look!" He cried, pointing at the glorious rolling hills that stretched out behind the far side of town, his eyes wide.

But he had his eye squeezed tightly shut, a death grip on the iron bar and his mouth moving in soft mumbles that almost sounded like a prayer.

And then they dropped.

Nightmare would be ashamed to admit it later, but he did scream. It was a high-loud and shaking scream, one that got snatched away by the wind no sooner than it had left his throat.

Beside him Cross was whooping, his arms thrown up in their air and mouth wide open in a cry of delight. The rushing air made his eyes water and within seconds they were streaming, tears streaking down his cheeks before flying away in the air.

Every swoop and turn made his stomach tie itself into reef knots, feeling lightheaded and out of breath.

By the time it finally came to a stop, he was wheezing, dry laughs and giggles escaping him uncontrollably. "That was amazing!"

Nightmare didn't seem to share his opinion, physically trembling and his knuckles so strained that they looked like they'd turned to ice.

His legs were jelly. Complete and utter jelly. In fact, his knees gave out completely beneath him for a second as he staggered out of the cart. His entire world was spinning like a merry-go-round, stomach twisting. He felt like he was going to throw up, heaving and clutching his chest.

Beside him Cross tripped drunkly out, gleeful laughter leaving him and eyes lit up like a firefly. "That was so much fun! Don't you agree?"

Nightmare couldn't even answer him, the urge to retch up last nights alcohol preventing him from attempting. Instead he gave him a sarcastic thumbs up, shuddering.

But apparently his thumbs up wasn't sarcastic enough, and Cross clapped happily. "Great! We should do another one!"

Groaning a protest Nightmare shook his head and gripped onto one of the tall wooden lamp posts that stretched up from the pier, waiting for his world to stop spinning. This was even worse than a hangover.

He couldn't help but laugh as he watched him, trying to look as angelic as possible. "Aww Nightmare what's wrong? Didn't you like it?"

"You bloody well know-" He heaved at the feeling of his 'stomach's' contents forcing its way up his throat and he stumbled to the nearest bin, retching inside of it. Once he was finished he wiped his mouth, growling and sticking his tongue out from the awful rotting acidic taste of sick. "No. I didn't."

For a moment Cross looked concerned, a hand resting on Nightmare's shoulder and frowning upon watching him shiver horribly. "Are you cold? Do you want your coat back?"

He shook his head weakly in return, but Cross was already pulling the thick coat off and shoving it in Nightmare's arms. As soon as he did, though, he felt the cold once more, a slight tremor running through his body.

He muttered a protest, but soon gave in and slipped it on and tugged the hood up over his face, hands deep in his pockets. "So, what next?"

Glancing around Cross thought, trying to spot something that looked nice, but not too intense for Nightmare. "Hey, what about the Ferris Wheel?

Warily looking up at the slow moving wheel he sighed, nodding. "Sure, whatever."

Grabbing his hand across pulled him along to the much, much shorter queue, humming. Noticeably everyone in the queue were in pairs, all of them couples. A man and woman in front of them were whispering to each other and giggling, their arms wrapped around their spouse's waist. The couple in front of them were two girls, the two making a little argument over who got to sit on which side. Not that it really mattered. One had a large stuffed tiger toy tucked under her arm, it hanging loosely from her grip with its paws and tail brushing the floor lazily.

Glancing up at Nightmare Cross pointed quickly, gasping. "Look! She got one of the toys!"

"And?" He scoffed, a brow raised.

"And? Those games are always rigged! There's no way to actually get them, it's like, impossible!" He looked a little jealous to be honest, remembering how as a kid he'd spent every single penny of his hard earned pocket money on those fixed games to win one of the giant toys. But he'd never managed to, the stall runners always ripping him off or coming up with some made up bullshit about being one point off every time.

"Well they probably seduced the stall guy or something." He shrugged. "You know how girls are."

Huffing, Cross looked away from the toy and nodded, feeling slightly neglected. "I guess you're right."

"Kid, I'm always right." He ducked under the ticket barrier without a care in the world, the ticket boy not even noticing he was so busy staring at the two girl's chests.

Quickly scrabbling after him Cross looked back quickly to check they hadn't been spotted before skipping over to one of the carriages. Posing as a mock gentlemen Nightmare opened the door for the monochrome, letting him step in first before slipping in behind and quickly locking the half-mast door.

They sat down on opposite sides to start, Nightmare staring out at the sea while Cross watched the two girls point at them with surprise, obviously realising that they'd queue jumped and not payed. But upon catching Cross' eye they winked, a finger to their lips. They wouldn't tell.

He gave a wave of thanks and snickered before sliding over to Nightmare's side, yet still keeping a respectable distance. "Why'd you hate the rollercoaster so much?"

Nightmare winced as the wheel slowly started to turn again, his blue eye sliding over to lock with his. "I'm pretty sure," he cast a quick look out the window "I'm...not a big fan of heights." He purposely avoided using the word "afraid" because that sounded stupid, like something a kid would say.

"Oh. I wouldn't take you as the type." He blinked, shifting a little closer.

"Mm..."

"Well, this isn't to bad, is it?" He stared out of the window and watched the pier and people shrink beneath them, grinning.

"No." He shook his head softly, but refused to actually look down, his gaze staying forwards and fixated on the tangerine orange sun. "Hey, you know if we're fast enough, we could watch the sun set on the beach, later."

"That would be nice." He smiled softly, now resting his head on his shoulder. Nightmare twitched a bit at the action, but didn't shrug him off, letting him.

The Ferris wheel was quite enjoyable for the both of them actually, the round trip taking twenty minutes. It was comfortable silence for most of it, the two making small talk otherwise.

Once they touched the bottom they scrambled out of the carriage, Nightmare giving the ticket boy the middle finger as he realised they'd got on without paying.

"Hey!" He cried, scrambling from his chair and calling after them. "Get back here! You haven't paid!"

Laughing loudly Cross intertwined their hands tightly, dragging Nightmare through the crowds quickly. "I know where he can't follow us!"

"Where?" He narrowly avoided barrelling into some six year old, only managing to salsa step out of the way just in time. Whatever Cross had said had sounded promising, but that quickly diminished into horror as he saw the boy make a beeline for one of the other rollercoasters, this one looking even worse.

"kID NO-"

——————

"I hate you."

"Oh c'mon! It wasn't that bad!" Cross dragged the giant stuffed panda they'd won at one of the rigged shooting stalls along behind him. Nightmare had finally agreed to have a go after half an hour of Cross' whining, and having hit every shot, he rather forcefully made the terrified stand runner give Cross the overstuffed, fluffy, sad looking panda that had been hanging from one of the many hooks that held toys captive. It was an understatement to say Cross was ecstatic with it, having finally completed his dream of winning a giant stuffed toy.

"Rollercoasters are the spawn of Satan."

"Really? I thought you were." He snickered, the panda now pulled up over his head and lying slumped on his back.

"Very funny." He took a bite of the cheesy chips they'd stol-- bought and cast a look back at him. "You look ridiculous, by the way."

"I don't care." He hummed and ran his fingers through the panda's thin, yet soft fur. The toy wasn't really good quality, the seams all strained and loosely stitched with a measly running stitch, bits of fluff escaping from various gaps. It's eyes were dull and scratched and the black of it's nose had turned grey from how often it bumped against the metal pole it had been having from, the wind also having fixated it's fur in one slick position. But he still loved it nonetheless, planning on using it to sleep on if Nightmare denied him the bed.

"Did you see his face when I threatened him?" Nightmare spoke aloud, continuing to stare forwards as they walked down the pier and back towards the bar.

"He was terrified." Cross snickered at the memory and nodded, a giddy grin stretched across his face. "Especially when shot the hat off of his head with that dummy gun."

"Yeah, that was pretty good, wasn't it?" He cast an amused look at him and gave the stuffed panda a distasteful poke, it's head nodding all melancholy.

"He probably shit himself."

The two snickered to themselves and took it in turns to replicate the man's expression, bursting onto fits of giggles and laughter every time after. It made Cross' soul go all warm and fuzzy hearing Nightmare laugh like that. It wasn't a mocking, fake or sadistic laugh. It was a genuine one, and it was great to hear.

Shaking his head and staring at the slowly sinking sun Nightmare sighed, breathing in the air slowly. His legs had finally stopped shaking from that second damn rollercoaster Cross had dragged him on , but he was still unable to shake the feeling of a hurricane blowing inside his skull.

"Sorry about the rollercoasters, by the way." He gave him an apologetic smile, walking close by his side.

"Nah, it's fine. I traumatised you by giving you a hickey, you mentally scarred me. We're even."

Muffling a giggle he nodded, the panda's arm's pulled tightly around his shoulders like a makeshift coat, the evening having gotten even colder than before. "So, are we still doing that beach date?"

"Beach date?" He looked at him, brows high.

"Yeah- you know, like you mentioned up on the Ferris wheel." He suddenly wished he hadn't said anything, anxious.

"I said we could watch the sun set on the beach. I never said anything about a date." He grinned widely, stepping a bit closer to the smaller. "Why? Were you hoping it would be a date~?"

"Wh- n-no!" He shook his head quickly and pulled the panda over his face to cover his blush, internally strangling himself.

Why had he said that? Why had he said that? Why oh why why why had he said that--

"But yes, we can." He hummed and paused at the front door of the bar, tossing the oreo his keys. "You go up to the room and dump that panda thing. I'll wait out here and check on the bike."

Nodding across shoved the bar door open and walked in, quickly greeted by already drunk men and swaying teens.

Outside Nightmare sighed and stepped around the side of the bar, staring into the murky darkness at where he kept his bike. It was still stood there perfectly, the waterproof cover having only shifted a little bit in the wind and exposing the bottom of one wheel. He could have adjusted it, but couldn't actually be bothered, kicking a rock into the shadows instead.

His mind managed to wander to Cross, remembering how it felt when the oreo had gripped his hand tightly as they ran from the ticket boy. Or how his soul had started beating rapidly when the skeleton had hugged him tightly after he'd won the giant stuffed panda. Or how he'd felt last night in the bar when they'd nearly--

"Nightmare!"

He blinked and tore himself from his thoughts, looking behind himself abruptly to see Cross stood at the door, a large bottle or something bubbly held in his hand along with two champagne glasses.

"You coming?"

"Woah, did you buy those?" Nightmare followed him down the slope to the beach the two of them collapsing on a nice spot and getting settled.

"Pff, no." He grinned at him and gave a quick wink, pouring him a glass. "I know how to have fun, remember?"

His mouth twisting into a sly smirk Nightmare nodded, raising the glass to his 'lips'. "I've raised you well."

"Yeah right, you've taught me nothing other than being an asshole makes you get things you want. He took a sip of his own drink, staring at the slowly sinking sun. Just like last night, it was starting to dip behind the waves, it's light casting red, orange, yellow and golden sparks across the water's surface and illuminating it perfectly. It was gorgeous, really.

"Well that's something." Nightmare muttered, also enchanted by the view in front of him.

"I could never get tired of that..." He sighed, glancing down at Nightmare's free hand splayed in the sand.

He stayed silent for a while, building up the courage for what he wanted to do before finally forcing out some words, his voice weak. "Hey...Nightmare...?"

"Yeah, peanut?" He looked over at him softly, and hummed, expression soft for the first time in a while.

"I-I was just wondering..."

"No, I won't marry you."

"Wh- no!" He flushed darkly and shook his head, fake gagging. "No! Ew!"

"No need to exaggerate sweetheart, it's a natural though." He smirked a little and drink from his glass, the bubbles making a nice sensation in his throat.

"No- that's not what I was going to ask." He huffed, his confidence wavering now like he was a tightrope walker, and the rope was fraying.

Inhaling deeply, he swallowed. "I-I was wondering, um, what- what happens next?"

Blinking softly, he met his nervous gaze. "What do you mean?"

"W-Well- It's just that, last time- y-you kind of dumped me and disappeared for six months... I just want to know if you're planning on doing that again..."

He took in the smaller's expression and went silent for a moment, feeling the anxiety radiating off of the smaller. But then he smirked, a hand reaching up to grip his chin softly. "I was kind of thinking of keeping you, actually."

Cross squinted. "Keep me?"

"Yeah. As in like a partner. Partner in crime. I need one of those." He snickered at how shocked face, winking. "Unless you don't want to that is."

"N-No- I definitely want to!" He nodded feverishly, sitting up straighter.

"Great. But if you, you'll have to give up your old life completely, live on the run like me. We don't stay in one place for more than a month, we have no contact with anyone other than the ones we know for definite we can trust, and, you've got to learn to drive my bike."

Swallowing and nodding Cross rolled his shoulders back and held his glass up, the crimson sun illuminating the bubbles beautifully. "Partners?"

Grin giving never stretched wider Nightmare clinked his glass against the smaller's, nodding.

"Partners."

————————————————————————

Holy shit it's finally here.

18,086 words for you (and me) uwu

I did try really hard with this and sadly had to rush it towards the end to ensure I got it finished for today, but I'm so happy I managed it.

This oneshot seems to be your favourite, with the most reads and comments, and multiple requests. Plus, I'd been meaning to write this for ages.

I kinda like making Nightmare having dumb little weaknesses and fears like (in Aliens) stairs, and in this case, heights. It makes him more likeable in my opinion tbh.

First third was intense, last 12,000 words pretty uwu and chill. I hope you liked the little neck biting and bear kiss >:3 I like teasing you guys.

OOOOKAY THATS PRETTY MUCH ITTTTT

WHAT WAS UR FAVOURITE PART??????
I liked the part in the bar where Nightmare threatened the cop, the hickey scene😈 and the funfair :D

Happy birthday to me lmao I got an apple ben and fruit blender (finally)

Keshysjsjdhsjiedjhdjwjdhx bye-

-Jess-