#Please be aware that it does compress your ribs and all the little blood vessels therein!

[zaraegis]

Come At The King|Part 4| T

Fandom: Cuphead

Pairings: Ride or Die QPP Wheezy & Dice

TW: haha, violence, descriptions of injuries, hints of past unhealthy alcoholism, 

Notes: BE SAFE WHILE WEARING A BINDER, DON’T BE A DICE.

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/Casino Rounds

The next match had Wheezy standing uneasily next to a lounging Devil. He swore he could hear unearthly chanting at the edge of his hearing every so often, emanating from his left, where the man was sat in a gold and red throne. Creepy.

His attention was caught by a small sound of pain coming from Dice. He was fighting the magician, Hopus Pocus. One of the swirling rabbit skulls had clipped him and exploded. It left an ashy mark on his white suit and despite the trepidation Wheezy felt at a solid hit, he laughed at the outraged look on Dice's face.

His arm was probably smarting right now, but he bet anything it was the marring of his suit that had Dice in a tizzy.

The small Dice looked up annoyed at the suit balloons that threatened to clip him as they fell, and threw a suspiciously glinting card up, popping the one directly above him. He slapped his palms together and a glowing pink die appeared between his fingers. Oh no. Not the smoke bomb.

There was the clinking of a dice spinning and hitting the floor between the two combatants before the arena was plunged into a smoke cloud. Wheezy waved away the smoke from his face, squinting to see two darkened smudges moving in the smoke. There were the sounds of more of those skulls exploding but nothing from Dice, which was typical. Then he saw Dice shoot up, jumping off something, another round of skulls?, to bring him back down precisely where Hopus was.

There was a pang of sympathy for the rabbit. Dice got really mad when his suits were messed with.

The knockout bell rang as soon as Dice started to use Hopus' bow tie as his own garrotte. Wheezy covered his face in second-hand embarrassment. The Devil chuckled next to him.

"Vicious little thing isn't he?"

Wheezy was startled, he'd forgotten the man was there holy shit, but he loyally lied, "Well, not- not when you get to know him!"

The arena was clear of smoke by now so Wheezy could see Dice hopping up and down to get his attention. He obligingly picked him up and let him stand on his palm as he stared down the Devil with something Wheezy could only describe as nonverbal polite demand.

With a snap of his fingers, (claws???), Dice was once again tall. Relatively speaking- Wheezy had him beat by quite a few inches. He was patting at his suit jacket with a frown, Wheezy wiping away the soot ignored on his face.

"It's fine, let's go look at that arm."

"My arm? I don't care, I need to get this to a dry cleaner."

Wheezy looked up at the ceiling, wishing for more patience to deal with this...this blockhead.

Dice twitched and squinted at him. "You just thought the word blockhead didn't you?"

"No." Wheezy lied.

"You have that face- don't lie-" Dice started, but was cut off by the Devil that they'd both ignored. That was probably a terribly survival instinct.

"We got people here for that," his voice was amused even as he continued lounging carelessly. "Someone will get it and return it back to you tomorrow. You'll want to look your best for Phear Lap."

Dice eyed him and slowly stopped patting at his arm. He smoothly tucked that arm into his chest and bowed over it. Singed arm suspiciously still at his side.

"Thank you, sir."

They were waved off shortly afterward and made themselves scarce to patch up Dice for his next match. There was a package of medicinal bath salts waiting for them in the suite when they got back. It was signed, "Pirouetta".

"Bless that woman." Wheezy muttered as Dice struggled out of his clothes with one arm gingerly held stiff. After helping him with that, Wheezy firmly steered Dice towards the steaming hot tub and dumped half the salts in. The water came up to his shoulders and while Dice hissed at the heat reaching the ugly bruise and welting burns on his arm he slowly relaxed back into it and soaked.

When Wheezy checked went back outside, he saw the suit was indeed gone.

-

"I can breath better now, what is this stuff?" Dice frowned down at the water, curiously poking his own ribs.

"I don't know but it smells like creme de menthe." Wheezy admitted, looking through the first aid kit for burn ointment and bandages. He missed the look Dice shot him, which was for the best.

After drying off and wrapping up the arm, Dice huddled in a soft thick bathrobe at the breakfast bar and watched Wheezy make some kind of seared meat and rice plate. It made the suite smell delicious.

"Are you sure you can't just take the next match on without the binder? Your ribs are just getting worse." Wheezy complained.

Dice frowned, He knew he was straining them, especially since he'd forgotten to take it off the first couple of days here. A dumb move that was hindering him now. How irritating.

"The weight will throw off my balance." He explained. It wasn't much weight but he'd been doing all his exercises and workouts with a binder for so long, he could feel the difference when he removes it.

"Shit." Wheezy mutters. "You can't afford to lag with the stuff these guys throw at you."

Dice's arm still twinged slightly but it wasn't as bad as they originally thought, the burns felt more like a bad sunburn and the bruise was a familiar strain.

"It'll be fine, don't worry." Dice assures him, doing some gentle stretches as Wheezy's plating up some food for them. The unimpressed look the man gives him is totally unfair.

-

The suit was there, freshly pressed and almost blinding white even amongst the white sofa. Dice hummed, impressed. Wheezy rolled his eyes. Dice and his thing about cleanliness.

After a light breakfast of fruits they made their way down to the next fight. Dice lit up at the sight of a single seat aeroplane.

Slapping his arm lightly in excitement, Dice muttered,"You'll love this. I get to fly a plane!"

"Jesus wept, I'm genuinely scared now." Wheezy muttered back. Dice huffed and took off his jacket.

"Yeah yeah. Here, hold onto this for me will ya?" Wheezy did as he was told, feeling like some valet as everyone watched Dice make his way to the plane. He caught the edges of the cockpit and vaulted himself up in an impressive display of flexibility and abdominal muscles.

It probably seriously stung his hurt arm. His face didn't show it. What a little-

"His arm is better then?" A voice cut through the murmurs around him. It was Pirouetta. Wheezy resisted the urge to check that his face wasn't as scruffy as the first time they met.

"Yes. Thank you, by the way. For the salts." He hoped he wasn't stuttering. This was possibly even more nerve wracking than spending yesterday standing next to the Devil.

She smiles at him, the dry humor in her face never faltering even as the Devil himself stepped between them to reach the throne that had appeared besides Wheezy sometime between Dice leaving and Pirouetta's greeting.

Wheezy can feel his collar heating up out of nerves, now firmly bookended by the Casino owner and manager. Oh boy...

"Ready?" The Devil growled out, over the roar of the crowd. It seems even bigger than the previous ones. Wheezy wonders if there is anyone who won't hear about King after this. There's a voice that booms, "Ready? IT'S ON."

The arena this time is set above a race track. Phear Lap is a spry old timer with a lime green visor and exploding presents that force Dice to do some risky maneuvers to avoid getting hit. There's riders streaming below them both that takes potshots at Dice's plane every so often.

It's getting to about the middle of the match when Dice seems to just lose it and starts fumbling one-handedly at his bow tie. He frees the purple cloth and-

"Is he..." Wheezy squints, incredulous,"Tying the controls together?" He is, isn't he. Oh no.

Pirouetta and the Devil lean forward at this, and raise a synchronized eyebrow when Dice jumps out of the cockpit and balances on the wings of the cruising plane. It seems to give even Phear a pause with the sheer lunacy of the move.

Dice shuffles a suspiciously familiar deck and with a nonchalance that should not be possible that high up and at that cruising speed, springs the deck from one hand to the other.

Everyone can hear the faint, smug, "Pick a card! Any card." That he tells Phear.

Wheezy would put his head in his hands in sheer exasperation if he could take his eyes from the scene happening in the air. Everyone is similarly hushed. Oh good, no one is really used to the ridiculousness that King Dice at full blast tends to bring.

Almost reluctantly, Phear shoot another gift at him, and when it explodes into gold gleaming horseshoes, Dice-

Dice moves.

He's almost blurred with the sheer speed of it. Eight cards are quickly flung with unerring accuracy away from Dice. Wheezy knows if they were actual metal horseshoes, they'd be cut clean through.

Phear Lap jerks awkwardly in the air, to Wheezy's confusion. He's dodging something, but what-

Dice hadn't stopped at eight cards, of course, and was aiming for Phear himself with the lethally sharp deck. He hadn't stopped smiling.

His eyes are glowing a cold mint green, leaving behind a faint color trail as he tilts his plane by shifting his weight. Dice is charging the sharp cards with magic. That's never good.

A royal flush strikes Phear Lap's aircraft head on which knocks it off course. He skids on the ground, leaving a dark grey dust cloud that highlights the stark white of Dice's suited figure. He does an irritating little hop to bring his legs back together and drops into the cockpit to land the plane.

Wheezy kind of wants to throttle him for this harebrained stunt, but he feels like that all the time when Dice does this.

Not that he rides many aeroplanes, thank God, but any chance to show off and flex his skills, he's quick to take. 'I'm getting rusty, Wheeze.' 'I can feel my muscles turning to flab Wheeze.' Bah.

"He's certainly something, your man Dice." The Devil hums. Wheeze laughs weakly. That seemed to sum up King Dice quite well. Pirouetta and her boss exchange a quick glance that sets his teeth on edge. There's something there that he doesn't like.

When Dice makes his way over to them, smiling tightly at the kind but unwanted pats and congratulatory thumps on his shoulders. No wonder though, he hasn't retied his bow tie and the collar of his shirt is windswept and rakish. He looks like a handsome devil-may-care flyboy.

He almost bounces up to Wheezy, and does nothing except beam up at him until the older man puts one hand over that expression and grumbles, "Fine, that was a pretty cool trick, don't look so smug."

There are some muffled titters coming from his hand and he keeps it there to spare the people around them the horror of a maniacally cackling Dice. No one needs to hear that.

-

Later on, Wheezy lights up and carefully puts his hot hands on Dice's spine to ease the muscle strain the binder leaves. One more opponent left, though, so Wheezy doesn't bother Dice about the idiocy of leaving it on for too long this night.

"Pirouetta and her boss are up to something." He mentions. Sometimes Dice has a sixth sense for these things, but other times the nuances of social mores fly by him. It's hit or miss.

"I know." He sighs, stretching under Wheezy's hands, stopping when his ribs gently protest. He pauses and does it again. "But I think she's fond of me, so hopefully it's not my impending demise."

"Please don't talk about death threats so nonchalantly." Wheezy complains. Dice laughs quietly.

There's comfortable silence as they try to minimize the ache in Dice's ribs.

This time they curl up together, Dice greedily soaking in all the heat Wheezy gives off. They drowse until Wheezy murmurs to him, "Do you know what you're gonna do for Pirouetta?"

"Smoke and mirrors." Dice mumbles back, before dropping off.