Chapter Text
ClownPierce slowly approached the man who was on the ground, knife in hand. They tried to crawl away, but were already pretty hurt, which made them very slow. ClownPierce’s blade sunk into their throat before they even got the chance to scream.
The dark-haired man watched life drain from their eyes, with absolutely no remorse. This had been just another job to him.
As the adrenaline from the kill left, the assassin slowly came back to his senses. The sharp pain in his lower ribs hit him. Right. The bastard had fought back and managed to stab him. Thankfully, he had missed any vital organs and the cut wasn’t deep, but he still had been way too close to getting a serious injury.
Lately, the kills hadn’t gone as smoothly as they should. Not that he was becoming weak, but his enemies were getting stronger. ClownPierce trained daily to become even more powerful but wasn’t improving anymore. He had already reached his peak and was unable to become any stronger. It just wasn’t physically possible.
* * *
Clown opened the door to his apartment to be greeted by the sight of Branzy, watching tv on the couch while waiting for him to return like he often did when Clown had late night jobs. His purple eyes lit up as he saw him, and he turned the tv off.
”Rough day at work? “ He asked.
Of course he could tell. Somehow, every time he came back from a complicated kill, his husband knew straight away before he even got the chance to say anything. He just responded to him with a grunt as he took his mask off. Branzy patted the free spot on the couch, inviting him. Clown sat down next to his husband, letting him take the top of his jester costume off, exposing his chest so he could tend to the injury. There was a comfortable silence as Branzy cleaned his cut, but then he spoke up.
“You know Clown, you’ve been coming home injured way too often in the past few weeks. “
As he caught the worried look in his husband’s soft purple eyes, a wave of guilt washed over him. He hated being the reason of his worry.
“I know, trust me. And I’m trying my best to improve, but it just won’t work. I’m still human after all. “ He admitted.
Clown usually wasn’t one to admit defeat or weakness. But to Branzy? He couldn’t lie.
“Maybe you should take fewer jobs,” Branzy said quietly.
Clown shook his head immediately. “Not an option.”
Branzy finished wrapping the bandage around his ribs, tying it tightly so it wouldn’t fall during the night.
“There,” he whispered. “Try not to worsen the wound.”
Clown chuckled softly. “No promises.”
Branzy didn’t laugh. His fingers lingered against Clown’s side for a second before he pulled his hands away. “You keep saying you’re fine, but I’m worried about you.”
Clown leaned back into the couch realising how tired he was now that the adrenaline from earlier was gone. There was a moment of silence before Branzy spoke up.
“Painkillers?”
“I’ll manage without.” Clown mumbled.
Branzy sighed but didn’t argue further. Instead, he grabbed Clown’s shoulder. “Come on. Let's go to bed.”
Clown didn’t protest.
The assassin pushed himself up from the couch with a quiet grunt, already regretting having refused painkillers. But it was nothing he couldn’t handle. He had survived worse. Branzy’s hand stayed near Clown’s back as they walked down the short hallway of the apartment, ready to help him if needed, though he didn’t say anything about it. Clown would hate being fussed over too much.
When they reached the bedroom, Branzy got into his pyjama while Clown just slumped onto their bed. His muscles were burning from the fight, and his head felt heavier than usual. He pulled the rest of his costume off and tossed it onto the floor before lying back carefully against the pillows, careful of the bandages. The mattress dipped as Branzy climbed in beside him, turning off the lamp.
Beside him, Branzy shifted closer before resting a hand over his uninjured side.
Clown closed his eyes, and exhaustion quickly knocked him out.
* * *
But sleep didn’t last long.
A barely noticeable pain brought Clown back to consciousness in the middle of the night. There was a strange pressure in his jaw. He frowned at the dark room.
His teeth hurt.
Not like he remembered being hit or biting himself, so it was kind of strange. He clenched his jaw and immediately regretted it as the pain only got worse.
He looked next to him to see his husband, Branzy, still deep in his sleep. He slowly got up, careful not to wake him up. He walked over to the bathroom and turned the light on. Clown opened his mouth and noticed that his gums were bleeding near his canines. Maybe he had hurt himself in his sleep? Whatever, he was too tired for this.
The man sighed, spat the blood out into the sink, then went back to bed.