Breakup Resolutions

Jack’s Idea

Jack swallowed hard, feeling sick to his stomach as he once more stood before Chase Young in the warlord’s palace, trying to explain his reason for returning.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me for walking out on you,” he began. “I don’t forgive me. I…I guess I thought you’d be better off without me, and maybe you are, but…I really…don’t…think I can live without you. I know it sounds corny, but I…” He sighed, keeping his eyes fixed on the floor.

“I know it’s dumb,” the goth admitted, “but…I was wondering if there was even a slight chance that you would take me back…?”

“You are lucky, you insolent cretin,” Chase spoke, the first thing the warlord said to him in three months sending shivers down Jack’s spine, “that I didn’t end your worthless life for assuming you had the authority to end our relationship.” He stood from his throne, moving to loom before the goth’s smaller, unimpressive form in a threatening manner as he demanded almost incredulously, “Now you have the gall to return, begging to be accepted again?”

The youth’s heart slammed against his ribs so hard he feared a few would snap and he could feel himself breaking out in a cold sweat, but as scared and as pathetic as he felt doing it, he nodded in confirmation.

An open palm cracked hard across the albino’s cheek, and Jack staggered backwards with a noise of pain, ready to bring his arms above his head to defend against any further blows when…

He was tugged close to Chase, his newly-sore cheek pressed against a cool, armored chest.

“I am glad you have come back home,” the warlord said sincerely, gently holding Jack against him.

Mutual

The night was cold and quiet: the perfect backdrop for a remorseful, wealthy young man to lean against the railing of his balcony and stare emptily at the night sky. Jack knew without a doubt that he hadn’t felt lonelier in his life and found that he could not even look at the sky anymore, the stars reminding him too much of Chase’s eyes.

The goth sighed, folding his arms over the cool marble of the balcony rail and desperately wishing the Sands of Time wasn’t in Xiaolin possession so that he could fix all this.

He had made a horrible mistake.

Suddenly a presence appeared beside him, and there was, of course, only one person who it could be.

“Are you having second thoughts, too?” he wondered quietly.

Jack didn’t look, but in his peripheral vision, he saw Chase nod with a frown, the warlord moving to mimic his position against the railing.

“What do you propose we do now, Spicer?” the man inquired softly, almost uncertainly if Chase Young could ever be called uncertain.

Jack found himself sighing again. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Maybe…”

“Maybe…?”

“Maybe we could just…” The albino’s hand inched across the railing towards the warlord’s, just shy of touching it. “…forget we ever broke up?”

There was a long moment of silence in which nothing happened and, biting his lip, Jack began to retract his hand.

Before he could, it was intertwined with a larger one and pulled back to where it had been.

“I would like that,” Chase finally said, an almost imperceptible smile on his features.

Jack met and exceeded the smile with one of his own, a very bright, clearly relieved grin. He leaned his head on the man’s shoulder and squeezed the hand holding his. “I’d like that, too…”

Chase’s Idea

“Spicer.”

The warlord felt ire rising within him as the young genius refused to even look up from his work and acknowledge him.

“Spicer!” he snapped.

Jack still didn’t look up, but this time, at least, he spoke, “Chase. I guess you want something from me.”

The man frowned. “Yes,” he said, “for what it is worth-”

“My Auctioneerbot can mathematically determine the worth of anything,” the goth interrupted coldly. “He should be somewhere in the Doom Wing if you need him.”

Chase scowled even further at the response, protesting, “I am not speaking of an item; I am speaking of us. I need you to at least be civil and help-”

“I’m pretty busy right now,” the genius said, still intently focused upon the blueprints he was sketching. “I don’t have time for any evil team-ups. My RoboJack should be able to help you, though: he’s much more complacent now that I’ve removed his AI, and besides that, he’s stronger than me anyways. I’m almost positive I left him in the Venom Sector, but he could be in the Faust Wing.”

The warlord snarled furiously and growled, “Spicer, can you not just let your animosity towards me go so that we may attempt to build on this-”

A pad of paper and a pen were abruptly thrown at the man, which he caught. “Just write down what you want and I’ll get around to building it after I finish my current project.”

The paper and pen were tossed harshly to the ground. “Alright, Spicer,” Chase conceded, getting straight to the point, “what is it going to take to right this?”

“A tearful speech about how things’ll be better,” the genius hummed quietly, gaze still on his blueprints.

The man sighed roughly. “Spicer…Jack…I…truly miss the way you…oh, who am I fooling? I was wrong,” the warlord said. “I am sorry I hurt you. I realize now that you are the only one I want. Are you coming back to me or not?”

Jack leaned over the lab table to kiss Chase fiercely. “Yup,” he grinned upon pulling away, “but if you break up with me again, I’ll not only not come back: I’ll start dating Hannibal just to spite you, no matter how gross and wrong it is.”

“Then it is a good thing,” the warlord spoke, “that I will not do something so foolish again…”

Friends' Idea

Bella watched with a frown as her master moped about his palace.

To any casual observer, there was no moping going on, but the tigress had known Chase Young for several hundred years and knew how the warlord moped. It wasn't external and didn't openly show, but Bella could clearly see Chase's sour mood in the way he had cut down his training hours, the nearly imperceptible reduction of the food he ate, and how much more easily frustrated he was when something went wrong.

She knew trouble would come of those pigheaded greenhorns driving Spicer away.

The tigress wasn't quite sure how they'd managed it, but two leopards that had only been part of her master's entourage for seventy or so years had convinced the warlord that the albino boy was plotting against him because they personally did not like the genius. The tension caused by their meddling had culminated in an explosive fight, which ended with Chase demanding that his lover leave and Jack seeming quite glad to storm out, sailor's mouth a'blazing.

At first, the leopards had been quite proud of themselves for driving the goth off, but their pride was stifled as the warlord took his anger and frustration out on the bearers of 'bad news': them.

Bella knew her master had done a bit of spying on Spicer immediately after their argument and had undoubtedly realized there was no plot to overthrow him, but he was stubborn.

He now refused to admit he had been wrong and would not go find Jack to apologize.

That was fine with the tigress, because she had a plan to fix things...

--

Master was moping.

Well, more than he used to, anyways.

The vast community of Jackbots were normally excited to have their master home for long periods of time, as having him live with Chase Young often meant long periods of the tech-wizard's absences, which often left them with nothing but household duties to attend to, which, to be honest, was boring.

After all, with Master Jack around, their tasks often got interesting; after all, in what other situation would they be ordered to come up with a medieval catapult and eight big-screen televisions set for immediate launch?

That was why a few of the ones with Artificial-Intelligence had concocted a plan to put suggestions in the goth's head while he was present at the Spicer mansion, putting the inkling of doubt in his mind by telling him that it was only a matter of time before Chase, the fickle man he was, would become tired of him.

It had been something of a shock to find that their suggestions had come true and the warlord had sent Jack home with such harsh words that the young man had immediately broken down into tears the moment he'd stepped into the lab.

Master really wasn't much fun when he was exhibiting signs of clinical depression.

But the community of Jackbots was once more rescued by the handful with AI, who had quickly devised a plan that involved collaboration with a sentient she-cat that ultimately shared their goal...

--

"Bella, what on earth are you doing?!"

The tigress offered no answer to the inquiry and shoved her master yet another step outside of his palace, silently praying that those machines would hold up their end of the bargain.

She truly hoped this worked.

Chase snarled as he was forced to stagger forward another step and growled, "Bella, if you do not answer me this very instant, I-"

"Put me the mother-fuck down, goddammit!"

The warlord's eyes widened as a black form fell from the sky to hit the ground harshly before him.

"Owww..." Jack moaned, wondering idly if that fall had shattered his pelvis, "totally not what I meant..."

One of the three Jackbots that had dragged him here kicking and screaming latched a claw onto his collar and pulled him to his feet, shoving him forward a bit.

The goth locked eyes with Chase Young.

For a long while, it seemed the youth could do nothing but stare like an idiot, mouth agape. At last, though, he managed to speak, though his voice cracked as he said it.

"Chase."

"Spicer."

The warlord was in a similar state of paralysis, though he did not show it externally as Jack did. Chase did not bite his lip or tense up, but his mind was at a total loss as to what he should be saying or doing.

The choice was made for him as a tigress' snout nudged against the back of his legs, forcing him forward as a Jackbot bumped into its master from behind.

Chase was put in just the right position to catch Jack as he lost his balance and fell, the black-clothed body falling perfectly into his arms and against his chest; pale, gloved hands clinging to his shoulders.

"Um..." was all the genius could find in his head to say, staring up at his former lover with nervous red eyes.

"I...believe they are trying to tell us something," the warlord commented.

"Yeah," the goth agreed with a half-chuckle, "I'm...thinking you're right."

As much as it pained him to do it, Chase realized that the point trying to be made was accurate, and he swallowed his pride to say what had to be said. "I should have trusted you, Spicer," he said. "I apologize."

"M'sorry, too," Jack admitted. "I shouldn't have gotten so mad and let you at least explain yourself first."

"Can we put this behind us, then?" the warlord inquired. "I don't believe they will leave us alone until we 'kiss and make up'."

The goth grinned, curling his arms around the man's neck. "Pucker up, hon..."

Bella purred in relief as her master bent to kiss his young lover, amused as the boy's robots saw fit to play a recording of a sitcom audience during an 'aww' moment.

It just went to show that teamwork...well, worked.