promptfic: s/d, failed

[sword_logic]

Drifter’s laughing so hard, he might actually be crying. He’s bent double over the railing, laughter wrenched from deep in his gut echoing discordantly through the Derelict.

Shin fumes.

“You–” Drifter gasps. “You fuckin’—” And he’s gone again, practically howling.

“You put me with three Guardians who were two days rezzed against four clanmates in full Prime sets been playin’ since the start,” he snaps. “No surprise I lost.”

Drifter’s still laughing when Shin jumps up and vaults over the railing, and he’s still laughing when his back hits the ground.

“Could cook a fuckin’ omelet on your helmet,” Drifter wheezes, and drags a hand across his eyes. He is crying with laughter. Shin kneels over him and wrings a hand into his robes.

“Could cook you.”

Drifter doesn’t sober up at all, and it’s the most insulting thing he’s ever done to Shin.

“Could make it up to you,” Drifter counters. He’s still laughing, but his amusement is sharper now, his smile a little darker, his hands insistent as he pulls Shin down in turn.

“You can try,” Shin snarls, putting forth his coldest shoulder, but he’s always run too hot and his thin resolve fails him yet again as Drifter laughs against his neck.