Chapter Text
Something was poking him.
He was cold, cold enough that he couldn't feel his face, but could feel that something was poking him. Lloyd groans and attempts to bat away whatever was bothering him with a weak arm; wallowing in misery was best done alone with a hangover, after all.
Lloyd was such a disgusting bastard, this he knew. Moments like these, when his brain was barely able to pass through the haze of alcohol that was a near constant in his life, capable of feeling the pain of home and the nausea of the booze. These were times that Lloyd began to understand the practice of healing a hangover with more alcohol. But with sobriety sinking in, it made Lloyd begin to think. Not only of the past, but his present and tentative future as well.
Of course, there was no point thinking of the past. It would add to the hurt to think about how that silver-haired bastard uprooted his whole life and took his own parents from him. What an inconsiderate asshole.
In the present, he couldn’t do anything right. His parents now look at him with disgust and hatred and he doesn’t blame them. He can’t, because they’re right to hate him. Their eldest son, who was meant to take over the household once his father was too old to look after the estate, and look how he turned out. An alcoholic who lashed out at everyone and everything with disregard for his own public image.
And the future? He probably continues to drink, to escape from those haunting thoughts and to stop thinking. Incapable of proving the estate’s citizens—and his family—wrong about him. Prove that he isn't some pathetic fuck up. It’s too late for that, anyways.
. . .
The poking was persistent, getting more aggressive as the seconds passed went on. Huffs of irritation broke through the crickets and silent breeze, clear signs of agitation slowly bleeding into Lloyd's own. God, why won't this guy shut up?
A finger presses against his ribcage, hooking into his side and digs.
“AAIIII!” Lloyd shrieks, his body contorting into a disfigured shape as he tries to worm away from the assault. “WHAT THE FUCK?”
A figure was squatting by his side, the offending tool of chaos and destruction still held where Lloyd’s ribs were. Their face was shadowed from the moonlight that the blinding moon casts, leaving dread to slowly propagate within his already alcohol-irritated stomach. There's no way someone put a hit out on him, right?
They snort, clearly not aware of who they were harassing and asks, “So, you're finally awake?”
His voice was surprisingly soft, but it was filled with mocking concern. Without waiting for a response, he continues, his voice growing impatient, “What the hell did you do? I was told you would know what’s happening."
“The fuck you mean?” Lloyd grumbles, glaring up at the man. Tries to, at least. The feeling in his face was somewhat returning to him, but with that familiar sensation came a sharp pain with every word that left the young lord’s mouth. Instead, his words came out more as a garble of words that vaguely sounded like human language.
“Eurgh, you’re more disgusting than how I imagined,” the man cringes, leaning away.
Lloyd's jaw clenches in indignation, only to gasp and moan in pain, clutching at his jaw in agony. Right, his jaw seems to be broken. He settles for an acidic glare instead, hoping it burned through the bastard's skull.
Seeing as the squatting man just smirks at his misfortune, it must not have done anything. They stare at each other, neither one daring to look away from their staring match.
.
.
.
Something draws away the stranger’s attention, his eyes flitting side to side as if reading something. Fool! Taking your eyes off your enemy was the biggest mistake you could make! Taking advantage of the distraction, as strange as it was, Lloyd launches himself at the stranger.
“Wh-,” is the only thing the man can get out before he’s thrown onto his back. A loud wheeze escapes his mouth as the wind his forced from his lungs. The struggle that ensues between the two men did not last long.
Lloyd kneels over the bastard with his hands clutching foreign clothes, straining to hold on as his weak grip is pushed back by the other man; his wrists were bound to snap under this guy's grip at this rate. Yeah, he could tell this guy was trying to avoid hurting him.
So what?
“ARGH!” Lloyd grunts as he’s thrown to the side, his own grip used against him as his back is pressed down against the dirt road. He cusses, struggling, in vain, to escape from the strangers' weirdly strong grip, “Fuck you!”
“Dude, calm down! I’m not trying to hurt you!” The man growls, shaking Lloyd’s wrists as if that would prove his point. It didn’t. He sighs, leaning back on the balls of his feet and looks down at Lloyd. “How about this. Let's both calm down and introduce ourselves, eh? I’ll go first, I’m Kim Suho.”
“That's a weird name,” Lloyd slurs, wiggling a bit to test the man’s strength. Nope, still holding strong it seems. Fucking strong stupid bastard.
Kim Suho looks at the man strangely, his brows creased in confusion. He glances to the side—freak must be reading something again—his face twitching in annoyance before glancing back. “Oi, is your jaw broken or something?”
Lloyd doesn’t deign to respond, continuing to glare at the bastard above him with pure, unadulterated hatred. What does this motherfucker care if his jaw is broken or not? For all he knows, he could’ve been the one to knock him out cold. Lloyd doesn’t remember a damn thing after teaching that pub owner a lesson.
His captor sighs, clearly exhausted by Lloyd’s attitude and releases the man’s wrists. Before Lloyd can react and push back, hands grasp at his face and—
CRACK!
Lloyd cries out in agony, his first taste of real pain pulling his weak, alcohol-hazed mind to return to reality. He curls onto his side, pointedly ignoring as Kim Suho eased himself off his torso, whimpering as he cradles his aching face.
"…yd."
Who does that?
"…loyd!"
Out of nowhere, too! Does he have a death wish?
"LLOYD!" Suho yells in his ear. "Get your shit together! I fixed your face, so get up!”
Ugh, whatever.
Sitting up, slowly so as to not jostle his jaw, Lloyd stares at Kim Suho. Damn, why is it so hard to see in the dark? He squints, struggling to focus on the man's face.
Moonlight shone on the man's foreign features. His eyes were soft, the brown in them shining with flakes of bright amber and the depths of the inky pools of his pupil held countless, heart-wrenching stories. Not that it mattered to Lloyd, but alas. Something worth mentioning.
Suho's hair was a deep brown, strips of lighter browns scattered across the messy wave of strands. He had a broad, muscular body, well defined, which made sense considering how much Lloyd was just overpowered just a few moments ago. It was too bad the man was wearing a baggy shirt, otherwise—
Stop.
Stop that train of thought right there. He was not checking this dude out, what the hell? It has to be the alcohol. It has to be.
Lloyd scowls before standing. How come bastards like this guy get builds like this and not him?
———
Suho matches the hooligan’s stare, taking in his features as he slowly comes to terms with his new reality. His aching back is proof of it after being ruthlessly thrown to the ground.
When Lloyd makes a face at him, he scowls in return. No way in hell was he going to let this spoiled, drunken brat try to intimidate him. Especially after Suho just fixed his jaw! If he had an issue with something, Suho wouldn’t be above returning his face to how it was.
He hears Lloyd scoff before the annoying bastard turns up his nose, “I’m Lloyd Frontera. You can refer to me as either ‘Master’ or ‘My Lord’, lowly plebeian.”
“Yeah, go fuck yourself!” Suho blurts out in disbelief, his eyebrows shooting to the stars from this bitch's audacity. He coughs into his fist as Lloyd jerks his head back down to stare, jaw clenching. “Anyways~ Why were you on the floor? You looked like such a pathetic bastard down there that I just had to help you, you poor thing.”
He dodges another attack from the young lord, strafing to the side and watches as Lloyd eats freshly kicked-up dirt with a snicker. This guy was just too easy to piss off. Guess he really is the Lloyd Frontera from ‘The Knight of Blood and Iron.’
“Let me guess. You got piss drunk, passed out on your way home or something, and broke your jaw?” Suho counted on his fingers, tilting his head at every point.
Lloyd throws up his middle finger, wobbling a bit as he struggled onto his arms. The instability mixed with his drunken state forces the man to jerk his arm back down, which made the gesture more amusing than insulting if Suho were to be completely honest with himself.
Suho sighs, it was obvious this conversation would go nowhere. He'll try asking about how he came to be here at a later time. Instead, he could probably get brownie points with the Frontera family if he brought back their eldest son in one piece. Trudging over to the tipsy man, Suho pauses to look at the pathetic excuse for a lord.
Shaking his head his head, Suho figured he really should’ve expected this. It was precisely how he was described in the book. Perhaps it was because he died so early in the novel that Suho forgot that he was such a bastard, but he really hoped he was at least a decent enough person to interact with.
Sheesh, guess not.
Reaching down, he grabs the back of the man’s shirt and hauls him to his feet, throwing Lloyd’s arm over his shoulder and placing a hand around his waist. It wouldn't do either of them any good if this poor excuse for a man ate shit.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” Lloyd screeches into Suho’s ear.
Okay, maybe Suho should’ve left this dude to die. Would’ve happened anyways.
“Let go of me this instant!”
They made it maybe a quarter of the way before Lloyd quieted down. Good, maybe his throat was sore and he would shut up for the rest of the journey. His bleeding eardrums could finally rest, then. Suho scowled as he imagined the other possibilities.
The silence stretches on for a few more minutes before Lloyd inhales.
“I can make it back on my own from here,” Lloyd mumbles, glaring at the ground as if it had wronged him. And Suho guessed it had, it did break his jaw after all. Suho watches Lloyd from his peripherals, continuing at a steady pace and catching every stumble. “You don’t have to carry me the entire way.”
“Really? Guess I’ll just dump you on the side of the road to be mugged then,” Suho shrugs, securing his tight grip on Lloyd. He wasn’t that much of a vindictive shithead.
Lloyd clicks his tongue at him, apparently losing his will to fight in his exhaustion. “Why the fuck are you helping me, anyways?”
“No fucking clue,” Suho grumbles in response, hoisting Lloyd closer to his side and forging on. “Oh! By the way…”
The two men continue down the dirt road as their conversation fades into the night. Lloyd vehemently denies whatever Suho was trying to propose to him, his voice echoing into the sky. His cursing was occasionally interrupted by yelps as Suho attempts to avoid the lord's rabid teeth. Their conversation is abruptly interrupted by a silver-haired swordsman approaching them.
Lloyd pauses, forcing Suho to pause with him. Both men stare at the approaching swordsman, a mutual understanding coming between them. Javier Asrahan, the loyal knight of the Frontera family, was walking towards them.
Javier stops a respectful distance away from the two, his hand hovering anxiously over the pommel of his sword. He watches Suho warily, uncertainty of the man's intentions clear in his eyes, “I’ve found you, Master Lloyd. Who is this stranger beside you?”
“I’m Kim Suho. Call me Suho. Kim is my family name,” Suho answers civilly, bowing slightly to purposely jostle the bastard attached to him. Lloyd jerks upright, glaring at him for either. Was it for making him bow to Javier? By treating the swordsman with more respect than him. Both? Yeah, probably both.
Slowly approaching the pair, Javier begrudgingly reaches for the young master, hooking the man’s arm around his neck for support. He looks across Lloyd and addresses Suho, “I can take him from here. Thank you for escorting him safely.”
They nod at each other, both sneaking a glance at the drunken man hooked onto them. Javier hides a scoff, making Suho huff out a laugh, “I’ll leave him with you then. Take care.”
Suho carefully maneuvers himself out of Lloyd’s crushing grasp, waving to Javier as they continue towards the Frontera manor. He inhales the fresh air of this new world, his lungs singing in joy from the unpolluted air, and watches the two slowly approach the lit up manor.
Ah, what a beautiful home. He would love to live in something like that.
…
He freezes, his smile stuck on his face as a realization hits him.
He doesn’t have a place to stay for the night.
Ding!
[Hahahaha!]
“Eurgh,” Suho places his head in his hand, waving away the System’s message before following the two novel characters. There was no way in hell he was going to ask if he could crash with them.