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Couriway never claimed to be a tryhard. He was more of a fun first, worry later type of competitor. Sometimes, it paid off. Other times, he would get totally rolled. So, he wasn’t too worked up over getting found in the first 10 seconds. If anything, it made it much more exhilarating.
He giggled as he ran loops around the room, cutting in and out of little passageways. He could hear the fireworks go off every time he passed a corner—someone being found. He didn’t care that much. Maybe he felt a little bad, but there were more rounds! They'd get over it.
He was still being followed as he sprinted into the next room… wow was this guy persistent. Shouldn’t he be going after someone else by now? It’s already been 30 seconds???
“Hey! Get back here!” He could hear the hunter yell. “Wolfeei! Hurry! Couri’s getting away!” Way to call him out like that. A smile spread across his face as he continued his escape. He kept running, not slowing down for a second, even as he rounded another corner.
He had a half-baked plan in his mind to ditch it into the next room and waste their time even more when, suddenly, he felt someone latch onto his waist and pull. Fuck! He grunted at the impact, the body behind him cushioning the blow.
He was about to tell off whoever this was because who would even grab someone like that? But he felt all the fight escape him as the person spoke. “Shh. You don’t want to get us caught, right? Be quiet.” Fein. Tingles spread through his body. He shivered as the man’s breath hit his ear, practically melting into his hold. He knew the two hunters were still close by, but shit. Fein was here. “You’re a dumbass, you know that?”
Couri almost protested as the hands fell away from him, but he held himself back. His mind was blank. Utterly empty. Fein didn’t even do anything that crazy, but he was already flustered to this degree. “You good, man?”
No, no he was not good. “Yeah!” Fuck—his voice gave it all away. You could practically call him a mouse at this point with how high that was. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Whatever you say..” And that was that. Why couldn’t it last a little longer? Maybe he should’ve fought back a little bit, made some noise. If he did, maybe Fein would’ve held him longer, kept a palm on his mouth to muffle him. Gods, he was a fool. He could hear the man sit down behind him as the tension dissipated.
Turning around, ready to go back to their usual banter, he wasn’t prepared at all for the sight he’d be met with. He choked on his next breath. That was what grabbed him? Couri could feel the warmth spreading across his face. Feinberg was without his signature jacket, probably tossed into his inventory or something. So, he was left in a sleeveless black turtleneck that showcased all the lean muscle on his arms. If that wasn’t enough to kill Couri already, the man’s visor was pushed up like a headband. It shouldn’t be as sexy as it looked, but Couri couldn’t help it. He doubted there would be anything he didn’t find attractive about the man in front of him. He was just so perfect. Strong, motivated, passionate, and so sweet to him. It was like Couri could do no wrong in the man’s eyes and fuck he can’t help but feel butterflies in his stomach at that thought.
So, although he can be blamed for what happens next, he can’t say he regrets it in the slightest. Fein was just always so, so careful with him. So, why not test the boundaries a little bit? He’d play it off as a joke if the response was bad… Yeah. That sounded good.
With his mind made up, he knelt down in front of him, taking a deep breath, before placing a hand on top of his knee. He couldn’t help it, he just wanted to be closer to him, feel more of his warmth. He wanted to feel those hands on him again.
“Wha-” He could hear Fein begin, but he persevered. He got his legs on either side of the man’s hips and dropped his weight resolutely. “Couri?”
He couldn’t bring himself to look the other man in the eyes, too embarrassed to do anything other than stare downwards. Fuck, he was sitting in Feinberg’s lap. He was sitting in Feinberg’s lap. Feinberg—his favorite person, the one he’s had a poorly hidden crush on for so long. Feinberg—the best in the world at what he does. Feinberg, Feinberg, Feinberg. When he finally built the courage to look up, his breath hitched at the absolute adoration spinning in the other man’s eyes. Shit— he wanted to be closer. So, so much closer. There was way too much space between them. Now that he’s gotten a taste for this, he doesn’t think he could ever back away again.
All of a sudden, he could hear a commotion happen outside. It didn’t concern him at first, not until a hand wrapped around his waist again and manhandled him so easily, twisting their bodies so that Couri was now laying on the floor with the other above. He yelped, bracing himself for a hit to the head that never came as a hand made its way between him and the floor protectively.
He blinked his eyes open, and wow that was either a fantastic or terrible idea. If he thought sitting in his lap was amazing, this was an out-of-body experience. Somewhere along the way, his visor got lost and now his dirty blond hair fell back down, obscuring his eyes in all the right ways. It wasn’t just that though, his other arm was firmly planted next to them, holding himself up with only the vaguest semblance of effort as the muscles tensed.
He was entranced by the sight. This was a man that protected him without a second thought. He’s not even on his team, and yet he’s being treated like someone worth such companionship. Obviously, they’re close outside of events and always joke around with each other when they’re competing, but this is the first time they’ve been so uncaring towards the game. He couldn’t deny it at all, he was so, so in love.
His soul left his body the second the man looked at him through his bangs. Those electric blue eyes. Couriway couldn’t count the number of times he’s gotten lost in them. So bright and mesmerizing. They were more iridescent than diamonds, glowing in ways a gem could only hope to compare. He was enraptured.
Without even noticing the other's movements, they were suddenly nose-to-nose. His breath caught for the umpteenth time, eyes flicking down to his lips.
“Couri,” He shuddered, “is this okay?” Please, please kiss him. Please. He’d do anything. He’d throw the rest of the competition if it meant just one kiss.
Fein seemed to catch onto his thoughts since he finally, finally pushed himself further and further down until their lips grazed each other. Couriway let his eyes fall closed, waiting for the mouth to close around his.
They were so close. So, why? Why did it have to end like that? If only they had more time. Fuck. Why did the round have to end? He would’ve stayed hidden for an eternity longer.
“Fuck, Couri.” He sounded just as disappointed as Couri felt. Gods above. How was he supposed to go on like this? There’s no way he’ll be able to focus on the games anymore.
They were teleported back to the main room. Couriway’s eyes immediately locked onto Fein’s body. His hair was a slight mess, and his pupils were dilated, but he didn’t look nearly as affected and debauched as Couri felt.
“ –y, Couri? Earth to Couriway.” He heard one of his teammate’s calling for him.
He hummed in response. Maybe he should’ve given the conversation more thought, but he couldn’t help it when those electric eyes landed on his. He felt a thrill run down his spine seeing the sheer determination on his face. There was no hope for Couri anymore, he was truly gone.