scapegoat ━━ mike schmidt

𝟬𝟬𝟲 springlocks

SCAPEGOAT / Chapter Six

Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria was as trashy as it had been the day before. And Malakai was late like he'd been the day before. He probably should've got that habit fixed but he'd arrived via bus this time and the stupid thing had been late.

Mike was already inside the security office. Malakai made a show of entering, strutting into the room and doing a spin as he pulled out a small bottle from his pocket.

"Guess what I brought!" He held the bottle out, "Whiskey!"

"Why would you bring that?" Mike couldn't hide his confused frown nor his scoff. He clearly wasn't impressed and Malakai's stomach churned, but he continued anyway.

"It'll make this shift fun," He shrugged as he sat down on the chair he'd brought back to the room on their first shift.

Malakai's real reasoning was that he hoped they both might loosen up a little if they had some alcohol in their system. They might actually be able to get along for longer than a few minutes without it turning into an argument. Malakai knew for a fact that he had less of a temper when drinking.

He pulled out another bottle, "I brought you one."

Mike scoffed again, "I don't want whiskey."

Malakai's mouth went dry, "You don't drink?"

"Not on the job."

Shaking his head to clear his anxious thoughts, Malakai cocked his head to the side and fixed the man opposite with a teasing look, "Someone's taking this seriously."

Mike rolled his eyes, "I need this job. I have responsibilities. Unlike you, I don't turn everything into a massive joke."

Malakai froze. Of course. Of fucking course. Why the hell would Mike ever want to be friends with Malakai? He was useless, good for nothing—whereas Mike probably had a good future laid out for him, or had the possibility of it, at the very least. Why did Malakai even try anymore? What was it even for? He wasn't worth—

Mike held out his hand.

Slowly, hesitantly, Malakai placed the small bottle of whiskey into his hand. "You said you don't drink on the job."

"I'm making sure you don't get drunk on the job," Mike returned, placing the bottle in his pocket.

"I'm not gonna get drunk on two tiny bottles of whiskey," Malakai protested, voice weak. His anxiety was still there, grip loose now but still ever-present when around Mike.

Mike shrugged, "You could be a light-weight for all I know."

Malakai was confused. Then, his eyes slowly narrowed as he realised something, "You just want to keep the alcohol, don't you?"

It was silent for a few moments. A long silence, stretching as the two gazed at each other. Malakai opened his mouth to speak again but Mike beat him to it.

"And if I did?"

Malakai brightened considerably at that. He was accepting a gift; it was a start. Grinning, Malakai teased him some more, "Most people say thank you when they get gifts, Mike."

"Thank you, Mal," Mike's tone was warm. Was Malakai imagining it or was he almost smiling?

Malakai scoffed loudly, "I didn't even use your nickname this time."

"I know," Mike replied, smug, "This is pay-back for how much you've annoyed me, Mal."

"Okay, Michael," Malakai returned immediately. If he wanted to act like that, he'd act the same, especially because this was their first conversation that hadn't dissolved into an argument instantaneously.