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He's being followed.
He'd been wondering for a while now, if Scar thought he was this careless, naive, idiotic boy who was thrown into this world without a damn clue.
This world. He's still trying to come to terms with it. Being this shell of a human being, nameless, clueless. Lonely. It's only been a few weeks, and he already feels detached from all of it, like his skin is trying to come off but he's tethered to the edge of the world, unable to remove its hook from his body. He feels lonely, simple as that. He tries to be present, tries to feel like he's not going crazy as people smile around him, telling him that he's part of some prophecy like it's all so normal.
He's noticed the looks Scar give him.
At first he thought it was intentional. He's not talking about the contant flirting, winking, no. Beyond all of that, like in that village; when he talked about the lambs and the slaughter. . . Rover is not of this world. He doesn't know how to explain it, like how in some moments, he suddenly feels like he's on the wrong side. He should be there, instead, hands in that maniac's hair, that - that gaze that he can't explain, on him always.
Now that he thinks about it, maybe it is all intentional. Maybe, maybe he is naive, easily manipulated. But no. No, he doesn't think so.
With every step he feels him, creeping closer, so very professional, so very good at what he's doing. He thinks he's being silent and he is, but his eagerness gives him away. His hitched breaths whenever he comes a bit close, too close, so close that Rover wants to spin him around, shake him, ask him if this feeling is as alien to him as it is to himself. What is this, he wants to ask, what is this supposed to be.
He keeps walking. The air around him, around them, feels stranger somehow. He knows they'll talk today, in a few minutes, even. Excitement fills him, and then something else, hotter, all-consuming. He stops.
He turns around.
He's so very good at this, he thinks. But he's a fool. He should know that Rover sees him, feels him, whenever he's near.
"Scar," he says, finally. "Come out."
I've forgotten how you smell, he thinks to himself as he waits in silence. I've forgotten that look you give me that you try to hide. What are you. What are you. What is this -
Ah. Leather, spice, something sweet underneath it all. There he is.
"Scar," he says again, and watches him laugh.
"Rover," he says, smiling so wide that it has to hurt, Rover thinks. "My pretty, lovely, smart boy. How long?"
"Since I left Rearguard Base," he says, and smiles at his subtle surprise. "Come here."
Scar's stops smiling for a second, his face painfully and blissfully honest for a moment, until he comes back to himself and smiles even wider. "Rover - "
"You're quiet today." Because he is. He's not posturing as much, he looks like he's fighting himself, hands and eyebrows twitching. He looks dangerous, and lost. And whatever being or God is up there, he thinks, please show me mercy. His hair, his hair.
"You should stop staring at me dear," Scar says, after who knows how long. "I might juuust get the wrong idea."
Rover takes one step forward, watches Scar watch him. "Please do," he mutters.
Scar's eyebrows shoot up, and he asks, laughing, "What?"
"Come here, to me," Rover says.
"Come there to do what?" Scar's still laughing, but for some reason it's delightful to his ears, doesn't make his hair stand on end. "You're already halfway there, sweetheart. Just a few steps left."
Rover raises a brow.
Scar narrows his eyes, smirk widening, "Whatever are we to do, dear hero of mine? Savior of Jinzhou, precious guest of our world. . . In the end, none of these titles, and none of any which will surely come after will matter. In the end, sweetheart, you'll be with me." He laughs again, making Rover shiver, yet he takes a step forward nonetheless. "You'll be in my arms, I'll be in yours. The world will start anew."
They are so close now. Rover can taste Scar's, and his own, desperation and excitement in the air. What is this other thing, he wonders, yet a part of him knows it. Desire. Hot, burning, all-consuming. He looks at Scar again, his sinful bodysuit, his coat, his hair, his . . . his -
He looks away. Better they talk now with a clear head before he goes fully insane.
"Just one tiny step left," Scar says, materializing a card out of thin air, and oh, oh. He thinks Rover's here to fight him. Of course he does. How would he react, he wonders, if he could see his perverse thoughts, and sees Rover on top of him, touching his hair, body, touching him there - "Rover," he sings. "I'm getting impatient, sweetheart. Either join me, or let's continue our lovely dance. Let's fight. And fight. And fight and fight and fight until you understand."
Rover takes half a step forward.
Scar bursts out laughing, and Rover allows himself a smile, too. Relishes in the way Scar looks at him when he notices.
There, he thinks. There's that gaze. "I'm not here to fight you," he says.
"Then," Scar starts loudly, shouts even, looking so happy for a second that it hurts to look at him, "then you're mi - "
"Not joining you either," Rover says. "Come here. Take this last step yourself."
Again, he watches Scar watch him. He wonders what he's thinking. His card's still in his hand, his grip even tighter around it. He's not smiling. He's not doing anything. It's like time froze around them, and even though it's dangerous, Scar's dangerous, Rover feels, for the first time since he stepped foot in this world, that he's doing the right thing. The prophecy, the Lament, everything between and beyond is all a lie. Scar, with his ridiculous outfit and hair that drives him crazy, is real and solid before him.
Just as he's starting to lose his mind, just as he's ready to say fuck it and take that step for himself, Scar moves with a grace that shocks him into quiet and brings them chest to chest, and grabs his hand with his own, card nowhere to be seen.
"Pretty little hero," Scar murmurs. He's so tall, but if he raises his head just a bit, he can feel the softness of his hair, and that all consuming hot brightness envelopes him completely and so suddenly that he has to close his eyes. "Aw," Scar whispers, and Rover feels his hot breath on his nose, tastes his breath almost, "are you overwhelmed baby? Shall I take a step back, or - " he pushes him a bit with his chest, the impact making them both take a step back, and Rover's hard, so hard, Scar has to feel it "- or. . . what should I do, dear. What other option is left for me?"
"Can I touch your hair?" Rover finally asks with all the strength he has left, which is not a lot. His eyes refuse to open, and he feels boneless against Scar's chest.
"You," Scar licks the tip of his nose, and oh, everything about him is perfect, the feel of his breath, tongue, fuck, his hair - "should open your eyes, and look at me."
"I can't," he whines.
"You can't?" Scar laughs. "But you asked me so nicely, Rover. You were the one who told me to take this step, remember? I came all this way," he licks his cheek this time, and continues licking, flickering his tongue against him. Rover tries turning his head, so that he can feel that tongue on his lips, but nothing happens, it's like his body has shut down, like all this proximity left him powerless. Scar kisses him on his eyelid, then, and both of them freeze for a moment, surprised at the intimacy.
Rover wills his body to move, raises his hand slowly and tangles it in Scar's hair, moaning at how soft it is and how perfect it feels in his hand. "Fuck," he whispers, and says, nonsensically because he can't even see him, "look at you - "
"Exactly," Scar says, and he sounds breathless. "Look at me. Come on," he licks the corner of Rover's lips, then, and moans like this is destroying him, instead of Rover's sanity. "Look at me, sweetheart. Come on. Look at me."
He opens his eyes, his lids heavy, so heavy that he almost instantly wants to close them again, but the sight before him anchors him; Scar, breathless, pupils blown wide and his hair even messier, and he looks beautiful, so beautiful. "Scar," he tries to say. He has no idea if he was even able to open his mouth but his hand thankfully doesn't fail him, he pulls his hair hard, and Scar moans so loud that Rover can't help but groan as he grinds his hips forward, pulling Scar's head further back.
"Fuck," he hears Scar say, "Fuck. Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me - "
Rover pulls his head down, this time, and he knows he's being rough but he doesn't care, he crashes their mouths together like he's starving, moans at the taste of his lips and grinds his hips forward again, against Scar, against the lips of his pussy, seen so clearly in his stupid, sexy bodysuit. He wrenches his mouth away, ignores Scar's groan of disappointment which gets replaced by a moan when he pulls his hair back again a second later and asks, breathless, "You. . . you really wear this out in the open?"
Scar doesn't answer. He can't reach his mouth because Rover's pulling his head back by his hair like an animal, but he's trying to lick everything he can reach. He pulls his hair again, harder this time, "Scar."
"Fuck," Scar laughs. "Yeah. I like it tight around my pussy, I like to grind down when I sit, if I jump up and down fast enough I can make myself c - oh!" Rover opens that ridiculous zipper before he can finish his sentence, before he goes truly insane.
At the sight of his naked pussy, he thinks he does go insane. He doesn't even know what to do. He just looks at it like an idiot, tries not to be so obvious as he tries breathe his smell in, and fuck he's wet, he's so wet, and hard, his little cock peeking out between his lips, looking like it's begging to be sucked. Rover doesn't even fight the urge to kneel, to put his nose just above his clit and inhale like a madman, all the while ignoring Scar's manic laughter.
"Oh my sweet baby boy," Scar's laughing, but it's that sweet laughter of his, the one that sounds like song to his ears. "This is how it's supposed to be. Us at each other's feet. We're - "
"Shut up," Rover murmurs, and puts his lips around his cock and sucks.
"Oh," he feels Scar shiver. "Oh, yes, please please, my beautiful sweetheart please - " Scar puts one hand against his cheek, the other in his hand, and grinds against his face. Rover doesn't care that his nose hurts, he's in paradise, he can do this for an eternity; lick around his clit, his beautiful pink insides and suck around him, groaning as he hears Scar moan higher, louder. He pushes the heel of his hand against his own erection, pushes into it, moans around the little cock in his mouth and drools all over.
Scar gets quiet after a while, but then he shoves Rover's face against his cunt even more and grunts, shivering uncontrollably and then. . . stopping. Rover takes huge, gulping breaths as he's let up, hands on the dirt below him and his face on Scar's knee, tries to get his breathing under control.
He hears Scar laugh, "Look at how natural you were, Rover. You were meant for this. You were sent for this."
"I was sent - " he coughs, " - to eat you out?"
"You were sent for me," he says, and the tone in his voice makes Rover look up. Scar's eyes look crazy, like he just went on a rampage and maybe before they met here like this, before he started following him, he did.
He is crazy. A killer. A lunatic, he tries to remind himself, but even the thought of being one millimeter apart feels like torture, now. He wants to push his body into Scar's, feel his thoughts become his. He's really going insane.
They shouldn't have done this.
The feeling of cold fingers against his scalp makes him startle. Scar pushes his head against his thigh firmly, "Before regret takes over this lovely little moment of ours, let me take care of you, my dear."
"You don't have to - "
"I want to," the fingers in his hair tighten, making him wince. "I want you to fuck my face, or my thighs. My cunt, maybe. I'll let you do anything, sweetheart. I'll let you come in my hair - "
Fuck. That shouldn't be hot. That shouldn't be -
" - in my pussy, in my mouth, wherever you want. Whatever you want. You were meant for me, just as I was meant for you." He laughs again.
Rover looks up.
Scar's already looking down at him, smiling at him so sweetly as he plays with his hair. "Oh, Rover," he says, still smiling. "I'm never letting you go."
"I know."