FIC: KHR! - Godzilla Killer
Title: Godzilla Killer
Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn
Pairings/Characters: 1859
Rating: NC-17
Genre: PWP, humour
Word count: 2,580 words
Summary: After a quite successful mission Gokudera thinks he deserves a breather. A broken elevator and Hibari have other plans. Look, people, it's a PWP. What did you expect?
Disclaimer: I do not own the series or any of its characters. Incidentally, I do not own Godzilla either.
A/N: Written for the amazing rodicks who won me/this over at help_japan. Thank you so much for bidding and I apologise profusely for being such a sucktard. I know I originally promised something HnI related but I got stuck and I didn't want to make you wait any longer. So I wrote this instead. I hope you're not too disappointed, bb.
Beta'd and approved of by the lovely andreaphobia and kentucka. Also, thanks to Andrea for having the inspiring thought that kicked this off. :)
Warnings:
~*~*~
Gokudera stands on the vast meadow and watches the inferno paint the night sky a dark red. Every now and then the flames flicker with different tinges where they eat up lingering traces of ring elements.
They've made a good job of it. The Dragonetti family won't be a problem any longer, that much is for certain. Their laboratories are destroyed, their research reduced to ashes and their experiments, as long as they could be considered non-aggressive, set free. The Dragonettis won't be tampering with ring flames ever again.
Gokudera smiles grimly and shakes a cigarette out of a battered pack. It's bent from the fight and he fiddles with the cigarette for a couple of seconds before discarding it and selecting another. Same difference. He grumbles but lights it anyway. It's better than nothing.
He is just about to enjoy the slow journey of the smoke through his lungs when he is suddenly standing in a downpour.
"Fucking sprinklers," he snarls, cigarette hanging limp and sludgy from his lips. He has no idea where the goddamned garden shed is. The Dragonetti's estate even has its own private little forest, for fuck's sake. How is he supposed to find a tiny little hut?
"The wind is carrying the water into the fire." Hibari appears next to him, not entirely noiseless because not even the Cloud guardian is capable of avoiding the squish-squash sound of his shoes on muddy ground.
"Is it now?" Gokudera scowls and crumples the soaked cigarette in his fist. "Thank you, Archimedes. Wouldn't have fucking figured that out on my own."
Hibari shrugs. He is still holding his tonfa, rivulets of water washing away the blood and leaving nothing but gleaming steel in their wake. He must be really fucking happy that he won't have to do all the cleaning himself, Gokudera muses.
"Can't be helped," Gokudera finally declares, flicking dripping-wet strands of hair out of his face. He pulls the collar of his jacket up and stalks through the quickly gathering puddles towards their car. The fire is infused with Storm flames so it burns just a bit hotter and brighter than normal. It should be enough to destroy all evidence before the fire brigade arrives, even if the sprinklers are lessening the effect a bit.
He doesn't check if Hibari is following him. For all he cares, Hibari can go catch pneumonia. He is beginning to feel the strain of the fight and their involuntary open air shower makes his suit grow clammy and cold. So, he really just wants to get back to their hotel and call it a day. Good work, well done.
When he wrenches the driver's door open Hibari is already standing on the passenger side, looking for all it's worth like he is late for something. But he doesn't say anything, not as he gets in and not on the drive home. All he does is sitting in the passenger seat like a crash test dummy planning on beating the wall this time.
Gokudera shivers and rolls his eyes. The wind has grown stronger when they arrive at their hotel. It's early in the morning but the doorman obediently pretends to be fully awake as he greets them. Gokudera hands the car keys to one of the interchangeable guys of the valet service and shuffles up the stairs into the lobby.
The receptionist on duty gives them a questioning look but knows better than to ask. They don't teach you how to chat up two men who are covered in dirt and blood, walking in at half past three in the morning, in receptionist school, Gokudera figures. He doesn't want to talk anyway. He wants a shower and clean clothes and a bed and certainly not Hibari looking at him like he's a piece of mouthwatering bacon.
"What?" Gokudera slumps against the back of the elevator cabin, sending dirty water flying everywhere and smearing the mirror with a smudgy, vaguely pinkish film. Oh, the cleaning personnel are going to love him.
Hibari wordlessly steps inside and immediately takes up most of the space despite being the lean, graceful creature that he is. Gokudera grumbles something about Hibari's ego and if they should get it an extra car next time and folds himself into the corner.
He is lazily hanging onto the handle bar at the back of the cabin when they are violently jerked around and with a flicker of the overhead lights the entire elevator comes to an abrupt standstill.
For a few seconds the only sound is their heavy breathing and the rustling of clothes as they rearrange themselves.
"No." Gokudera grimaces and leans past Hibari to abuse all buttons on the silver panel. "No, no, no! Not this. Please."
Hibari watches him out of the corner of his eyes like a deer hunter waiting for the perfect shot. Gokudera is aware of it. He can see it in all the gleaming surfaces that surround them but he ignores it. He just keeps pressing buttons in the vague hope that it will somehow miraculously unstuck the elevator.
"I don't have time for this bullshit!" He exclaims and rams his foot into the control panel. It sends sparks flying and the light behind a few buttons dies. It is not as satisfying as he had hoped.
He takes to banging his fists on the door. "Hey! Anyone out there? You fucking morons need to get us out of here!"
"Stop shouting," Hibari growls next to him but if Gokudera has little understanding for broken elevators he has even less for Hibari's antics.
"Or what?" He spits back, thumping his foot against the door for emphasis. It leaves a tiny, shoe-shaped dent. Marginally more satisfying than the control panel, Gokudera notes.
"Or I'll make you stop."
"By doing what, fuckwit," Gokudera gestures wildly, "fight me in this chicken cage?"
He knows Hibari has been looking for an excuse to let loose since they left the Dragonetti's property. Their enemies obviously haven't provided enough resistance for Hibari's tastes. Hell, even freaking Godzilla probably isn't enough of a challenge for that bastard, Gokudera thinks and immediately realises where he's gone wrong. He has just used the words 'fight me' in Hibari's presence. It matters little to the Cloud guardian which punctuation mark Gokudera has chosen to end his sentence on.
It's a logistic challenge to carry out a full-blown fight in the confines of a 5 by 5 feet metal cabin, hanging suspended in a vertical tunnel. But they manage. The steel cabin creaks and all the lamps on the control panel go out when Gokudera barely avoids pressing all of the buttons with his head. The mirror splinters in a cobweb pattern when Hibari stumbles backwards due to Gokudera's knee in his stomach.
Jackets and shirts rip and bones crack ominously. Somebody loses a shoe and everything is damp and hot like a freaking sauna and Hibari has him by the tie and Gokudera can't fucking breathe because all of a sudden Hibari is kissing him. Or what passes for a kiss in his fucked-up world of violence. Gokudera isn't sure they have the same understanding of the term but he is willing to learn something new every day.
It's really more like - Gokudera searches for an appropriate word but decides that the only people who might be able to even remotely relate are astronauts. He suspects that this is exactly what it must feel like to enter Earth's atmosphere.
He feels teeth, raw and sharp on his lips and he can't even tell if they are his or Hibari's. They do to their clothes what they did to the Dragonetti mansion earlier - they tear them to pieces and abandon them. Gokudera's shirt is missing three buttons now and is dangling off one shoulder. The other is occupied by Hibari and his remarkably pointy teeth.
"Ouch! Quit that shit will y-hmph!" Gokudera gawks and tries to form profanities around the tie that Hibari has managed to work into his mouth.
"Quiet." Hibari swats his hands away and manhandles him around so Gokudera is facing the mirror. Ten of him are blinking back through the shards. They all look equally ridiculous with that tie between their lips but all his attempts of removing it are scotched.
He growls in warning but somewhere along the line he forgets how that works and ends it all on a deeply felt moan when Hibari works his fingers into the front of Gokudera's pants. His belt is a long forgotten memory and without its support his pants are slowly slipping towards the floor, helped by the frantic rocking motions his hips seem to be doing all on their own.
He hates Hibari a little for it. A couple of minutes ago Gokudera was ready to fucking rip Hibari apart and now he's thinking of very intimate places to put his dick. Actually, he should be used to it by now because this is by far not the first time this has happened. Hibari is just as manipulative a bastard as Mukuro. He's merely more hands-on than the Mist guardian. And his hands surely know what they are doing.
Gokudera presses his forehead against the mirror, his breath fogging up the glass and making it more and more slippery with every twist of Hibari's hand, every flick of his thumb. Something stings for a second and through the haze of smothering heat Gokudera realises that he's clipped his brow on the broken mirror. It takes him about as long to care as it takes Hibari to flip him back around and almost gently lick over the small scratch.
You're a sick whacko, Gokudera wants to say but his own tie is still his worst enemy. Besides, he shivers at the wet sensation of Hibari's tongue and he closes his eyes because he doesn't want to see that triumphant smirk on Hibari's face when he leans back. His hand is still stroking Gokudera's cock with so much ease as if he's done a whole doctoral thesis on how to get Gokudera off.
It's not fair, Gokudera complains in the corners of his mind that haven't been taken over by pleasure yet. Why is the damned son of a bitch so fucking good at everything?
Because right now Gokudera is doing his best to prove him right, that's why. Hibari nips at his lower lip and kisses the corner of Gokudera's mouth where the tie is already damp with spit and breath and smiles. "That stays on."
Gokudera has half a mind to look confused before Hibari drops to his knees and yanks his briefs down. His confusion quickly turns into a somewhat muffled yelp and the helpful reflex of grabbing the handle bar behind him with both hands.
Hibari wastes no time. His tongue feels ten times hotter down there and Gokudera is now convinced that, no, he's not an astronaut. He's the fucking space shuttle.
He gasps and coughs and wonders why the hell he isn't ditching the damned tie but then he remembers that this would require letting go of the handrail and he is in no condition to remain upright at the moment. So, he just lets it the fuck be and waits for the moment that he forgets it's even there.
He breaks the record of forgetfulness when Hibari swirls his tongue over the head of his cock, which makes his thighs feel like jelly and causes his knuckles to go white with the effort of holding on. Gokudera wants to curse and spit but he is restricted to watching Hibari lick and press and suck in silence. He swears on his mother's grave that he will choke the fucker later on with the very same tie that is keeping him from voicing that threat.
And Hibari knows, God damn that cocky bastard, he knows. He swallows Gokudera down until the heat and the pressure are so overwhelming that Gokudera thinks he might go insane. Every time they stumble into this kind of situation Gokudera is reminded that sensory overload is not just a myth. It's a fact and he can testify to it each and every goddamned time.
He gulps down the knot of words that can't get out and clings to the handle bar like a drowning man to a piece of driftwood. He can't quite tell if he's bucking his hips or if Hibari is just that annoyingly perfect at finding just the right rhythm. If he's entirely honest, he doesn't really care because the hairs on the back of his neck are standing up and the prickling sensation of hundreds of imaginary fingertips on his skin is crawling towards his balls and everything hurts and is completely pliant both at the same time.
He comes with a defenceless sob that should have been a cry. He throws his head back, bumps into the mirror and doesn't even notice because Hibari's mouth is still stretched wide around him and he can feel the Cloud guardian's throat constrict around him and this might be a really good moment to die.
But they don't call it little death for nothing.
Gokudera slides down to the ground as soon as Hibari lets go of him, unconcerned about the fact that he is the picture-perfect example of a herbivore right now. Spent and completely useless. He can't get himself to give a fuck.
"Are you going to stay down there forever?" Hibari wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, his tongue darting out to lick away a tiny trickle of cum or spit, Gokudera really can't say. It's an utterly mesmerising gesture though.
Gokudera finally remembers to get rid of the tie and fumbles it over his head, tossing it into a corner. "I will get you back for this, asshole."
Hibari smirks as he crouches down before Gokudera, his clothes almost back in order. "And how exactly are you planning on doing this?"
"Like this." Gokudera says and yanks his fellow guardian down by his tie to kiss him. Or what passes for a kiss in his world of explosions, gunfire and smoke.
Hibari's lips quirk up and he hums quietly, "Interesting."
Gokudera grins and means to elaborate but the elevator cabin makes another rough jerk upwards and is suddenly back en route.
---
The elderly couple waiting on the ninth floor encounters two men, one of which giving a rather dishevelled impression, amongst the wreckage of a once pristine elevator cabin.
"He had a panic attack." The one with the silver hair points at his companion who looks like he has never even heard of the word before. "Had to comfort him."
"Claustrophobia, huh?" Grandfather De Luca ascertains and his wife gives a sympathetic nod.
"Basket case." The young man rolls his eyes and taps at the side of his head. His friend seems to disagree because he starts dragging the silver-haired one down the corridor.
Mr and Mrs De Luca poke their heads out of the elevator to watch the two men disappear into a room.
"Strange kids." De Luca senior shakes his head and tries to press the button for the ground floor but it is somehow missing. As is the rest of the panel.
Mrs De Luca pouts, "Next time we're staying at the Rialto. Basta!"
"Yes, dear." Mr De Luca agrees and uses the tip of his shoe to shove the mysterious, wet tie away from him.
~*~*~
Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn
Pairings/Characters: 1859
Rating: NC-17
Genre: PWP, humour
Word count: 2,580 words
Summary: After a quite successful mission Gokudera thinks he deserves a breather. A broken elevator and Hibari have other plans. Look, people, it's a PWP. What did you expect?
Disclaimer: I do not own the series or any of its characters. Incidentally, I do not own Godzilla either.
A/N: Written for the amazing rodicks who won me/this over at help_japan. Thank you so much for bidding and I apologise profusely for being such a sucktard. I know I originally promised something HnI related but I got stuck and I didn't want to make you wait any longer. So I wrote this instead. I hope you're not too disappointed, bb.
Beta'd and approved of by the lovely andreaphobia and kentucka. Also, thanks to Andrea for having the inspiring thought that kicked this off. :)
Warnings:
- Nifty use of ties.
~*~*~
Gokudera stands on the vast meadow and watches the inferno paint the night sky a dark red. Every now and then the flames flicker with different tinges where they eat up lingering traces of ring elements.
They've made a good job of it. The Dragonetti family won't be a problem any longer, that much is for certain. Their laboratories are destroyed, their research reduced to ashes and their experiments, as long as they could be considered non-aggressive, set free. The Dragonettis won't be tampering with ring flames ever again.
Gokudera smiles grimly and shakes a cigarette out of a battered pack. It's bent from the fight and he fiddles with the cigarette for a couple of seconds before discarding it and selecting another. Same difference. He grumbles but lights it anyway. It's better than nothing.
He is just about to enjoy the slow journey of the smoke through his lungs when he is suddenly standing in a downpour.
"Fucking sprinklers," he snarls, cigarette hanging limp and sludgy from his lips. He has no idea where the goddamned garden shed is. The Dragonetti's estate even has its own private little forest, for fuck's sake. How is he supposed to find a tiny little hut?
"The wind is carrying the water into the fire." Hibari appears next to him, not entirely noiseless because not even the Cloud guardian is capable of avoiding the squish-squash sound of his shoes on muddy ground.
"Is it now?" Gokudera scowls and crumples the soaked cigarette in his fist. "Thank you, Archimedes. Wouldn't have fucking figured that out on my own."
Hibari shrugs. He is still holding his tonfa, rivulets of water washing away the blood and leaving nothing but gleaming steel in their wake. He must be really fucking happy that he won't have to do all the cleaning himself, Gokudera muses.
"Can't be helped," Gokudera finally declares, flicking dripping-wet strands of hair out of his face. He pulls the collar of his jacket up and stalks through the quickly gathering puddles towards their car. The fire is infused with Storm flames so it burns just a bit hotter and brighter than normal. It should be enough to destroy all evidence before the fire brigade arrives, even if the sprinklers are lessening the effect a bit.
He doesn't check if Hibari is following him. For all he cares, Hibari can go catch pneumonia. He is beginning to feel the strain of the fight and their involuntary open air shower makes his suit grow clammy and cold. So, he really just wants to get back to their hotel and call it a day. Good work, well done.
When he wrenches the driver's door open Hibari is already standing on the passenger side, looking for all it's worth like he is late for something. But he doesn't say anything, not as he gets in and not on the drive home. All he does is sitting in the passenger seat like a crash test dummy planning on beating the wall this time.
Gokudera shivers and rolls his eyes. The wind has grown stronger when they arrive at their hotel. It's early in the morning but the doorman obediently pretends to be fully awake as he greets them. Gokudera hands the car keys to one of the interchangeable guys of the valet service and shuffles up the stairs into the lobby.
The receptionist on duty gives them a questioning look but knows better than to ask. They don't teach you how to chat up two men who are covered in dirt and blood, walking in at half past three in the morning, in receptionist school, Gokudera figures. He doesn't want to talk anyway. He wants a shower and clean clothes and a bed and certainly not Hibari looking at him like he's a piece of mouthwatering bacon.
"What?" Gokudera slumps against the back of the elevator cabin, sending dirty water flying everywhere and smearing the mirror with a smudgy, vaguely pinkish film. Oh, the cleaning personnel are going to love him.
Hibari wordlessly steps inside and immediately takes up most of the space despite being the lean, graceful creature that he is. Gokudera grumbles something about Hibari's ego and if they should get it an extra car next time and folds himself into the corner.
He is lazily hanging onto the handle bar at the back of the cabin when they are violently jerked around and with a flicker of the overhead lights the entire elevator comes to an abrupt standstill.
For a few seconds the only sound is their heavy breathing and the rustling of clothes as they rearrange themselves.
"No." Gokudera grimaces and leans past Hibari to abuse all buttons on the silver panel. "No, no, no! Not this. Please."
Hibari watches him out of the corner of his eyes like a deer hunter waiting for the perfect shot. Gokudera is aware of it. He can see it in all the gleaming surfaces that surround them but he ignores it. He just keeps pressing buttons in the vague hope that it will somehow miraculously unstuck the elevator.
"I don't have time for this bullshit!" He exclaims and rams his foot into the control panel. It sends sparks flying and the light behind a few buttons dies. It is not as satisfying as he had hoped.
He takes to banging his fists on the door. "Hey! Anyone out there? You fucking morons need to get us out of here!"
"Stop shouting," Hibari growls next to him but if Gokudera has little understanding for broken elevators he has even less for Hibari's antics.
"Or what?" He spits back, thumping his foot against the door for emphasis. It leaves a tiny, shoe-shaped dent. Marginally more satisfying than the control panel, Gokudera notes.
"Or I'll make you stop."
"By doing what, fuckwit," Gokudera gestures wildly, "fight me in this chicken cage?"
He knows Hibari has been looking for an excuse to let loose since they left the Dragonetti's property. Their enemies obviously haven't provided enough resistance for Hibari's tastes. Hell, even freaking Godzilla probably isn't enough of a challenge for that bastard, Gokudera thinks and immediately realises where he's gone wrong. He has just used the words 'fight me' in Hibari's presence. It matters little to the Cloud guardian which punctuation mark Gokudera has chosen to end his sentence on.
It's a logistic challenge to carry out a full-blown fight in the confines of a 5 by 5 feet metal cabin, hanging suspended in a vertical tunnel. But they manage. The steel cabin creaks and all the lamps on the control panel go out when Gokudera barely avoids pressing all of the buttons with his head. The mirror splinters in a cobweb pattern when Hibari stumbles backwards due to Gokudera's knee in his stomach.
Jackets and shirts rip and bones crack ominously. Somebody loses a shoe and everything is damp and hot like a freaking sauna and Hibari has him by the tie and Gokudera can't fucking breathe because all of a sudden Hibari is kissing him. Or what passes for a kiss in his fucked-up world of violence. Gokudera isn't sure they have the same understanding of the term but he is willing to learn something new every day.
It's really more like - Gokudera searches for an appropriate word but decides that the only people who might be able to even remotely relate are astronauts. He suspects that this is exactly what it must feel like to enter Earth's atmosphere.
He feels teeth, raw and sharp on his lips and he can't even tell if they are his or Hibari's. They do to their clothes what they did to the Dragonetti mansion earlier - they tear them to pieces and abandon them. Gokudera's shirt is missing three buttons now and is dangling off one shoulder. The other is occupied by Hibari and his remarkably pointy teeth.
"Ouch! Quit that shit will y-hmph!" Gokudera gawks and tries to form profanities around the tie that Hibari has managed to work into his mouth.
"Quiet." Hibari swats his hands away and manhandles him around so Gokudera is facing the mirror. Ten of him are blinking back through the shards. They all look equally ridiculous with that tie between their lips but all his attempts of removing it are scotched.
He growls in warning but somewhere along the line he forgets how that works and ends it all on a deeply felt moan when Hibari works his fingers into the front of Gokudera's pants. His belt is a long forgotten memory and without its support his pants are slowly slipping towards the floor, helped by the frantic rocking motions his hips seem to be doing all on their own.
He hates Hibari a little for it. A couple of minutes ago Gokudera was ready to fucking rip Hibari apart and now he's thinking of very intimate places to put his dick. Actually, he should be used to it by now because this is by far not the first time this has happened. Hibari is just as manipulative a bastard as Mukuro. He's merely more hands-on than the Mist guardian. And his hands surely know what they are doing.
Gokudera presses his forehead against the mirror, his breath fogging up the glass and making it more and more slippery with every twist of Hibari's hand, every flick of his thumb. Something stings for a second and through the haze of smothering heat Gokudera realises that he's clipped his brow on the broken mirror. It takes him about as long to care as it takes Hibari to flip him back around and almost gently lick over the small scratch.
You're a sick whacko, Gokudera wants to say but his own tie is still his worst enemy. Besides, he shivers at the wet sensation of Hibari's tongue and he closes his eyes because he doesn't want to see that triumphant smirk on Hibari's face when he leans back. His hand is still stroking Gokudera's cock with so much ease as if he's done a whole doctoral thesis on how to get Gokudera off.
It's not fair, Gokudera complains in the corners of his mind that haven't been taken over by pleasure yet. Why is the damned son of a bitch so fucking good at everything?
Because right now Gokudera is doing his best to prove him right, that's why. Hibari nips at his lower lip and kisses the corner of Gokudera's mouth where the tie is already damp with spit and breath and smiles. "That stays on."
Gokudera has half a mind to look confused before Hibari drops to his knees and yanks his briefs down. His confusion quickly turns into a somewhat muffled yelp and the helpful reflex of grabbing the handle bar behind him with both hands.
Hibari wastes no time. His tongue feels ten times hotter down there and Gokudera is now convinced that, no, he's not an astronaut. He's the fucking space shuttle.
He gasps and coughs and wonders why the hell he isn't ditching the damned tie but then he remembers that this would require letting go of the handrail and he is in no condition to remain upright at the moment. So, he just lets it the fuck be and waits for the moment that he forgets it's even there.
He breaks the record of forgetfulness when Hibari swirls his tongue over the head of his cock, which makes his thighs feel like jelly and causes his knuckles to go white with the effort of holding on. Gokudera wants to curse and spit but he is restricted to watching Hibari lick and press and suck in silence. He swears on his mother's grave that he will choke the fucker later on with the very same tie that is keeping him from voicing that threat.
And Hibari knows, God damn that cocky bastard, he knows. He swallows Gokudera down until the heat and the pressure are so overwhelming that Gokudera thinks he might go insane. Every time they stumble into this kind of situation Gokudera is reminded that sensory overload is not just a myth. It's a fact and he can testify to it each and every goddamned time.
He gulps down the knot of words that can't get out and clings to the handle bar like a drowning man to a piece of driftwood. He can't quite tell if he's bucking his hips or if Hibari is just that annoyingly perfect at finding just the right rhythm. If he's entirely honest, he doesn't really care because the hairs on the back of his neck are standing up and the prickling sensation of hundreds of imaginary fingertips on his skin is crawling towards his balls and everything hurts and is completely pliant both at the same time.
He comes with a defenceless sob that should have been a cry. He throws his head back, bumps into the mirror and doesn't even notice because Hibari's mouth is still stretched wide around him and he can feel the Cloud guardian's throat constrict around him and this might be a really good moment to die.
But they don't call it little death for nothing.
Gokudera slides down to the ground as soon as Hibari lets go of him, unconcerned about the fact that he is the picture-perfect example of a herbivore right now. Spent and completely useless. He can't get himself to give a fuck.
"Are you going to stay down there forever?" Hibari wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, his tongue darting out to lick away a tiny trickle of cum or spit, Gokudera really can't say. It's an utterly mesmerising gesture though.
Gokudera finally remembers to get rid of the tie and fumbles it over his head, tossing it into a corner. "I will get you back for this, asshole."
Hibari smirks as he crouches down before Gokudera, his clothes almost back in order. "And how exactly are you planning on doing this?"
"Like this." Gokudera says and yanks his fellow guardian down by his tie to kiss him. Or what passes for a kiss in his world of explosions, gunfire and smoke.
Hibari's lips quirk up and he hums quietly, "Interesting."
Gokudera grins and means to elaborate but the elevator cabin makes another rough jerk upwards and is suddenly back en route.
---
The elderly couple waiting on the ninth floor encounters two men, one of which giving a rather dishevelled impression, amongst the wreckage of a once pristine elevator cabin.
"He had a panic attack." The one with the silver hair points at his companion who looks like he has never even heard of the word before. "Had to comfort him."
"Claustrophobia, huh?" Grandfather De Luca ascertains and his wife gives a sympathetic nod.
"Basket case." The young man rolls his eyes and taps at the side of his head. His friend seems to disagree because he starts dragging the silver-haired one down the corridor.
Mr and Mrs De Luca poke their heads out of the elevator to watch the two men disappear into a room.
"Strange kids." De Luca senior shakes his head and tries to press the button for the ground floor but it is somehow missing. As is the rest of the panel.
Mrs De Luca pouts, "Next time we're staying at the Rialto. Basta!"
"Yes, dear." Mr De Luca agrees and uses the tip of his shoe to shove the mysterious, wet tie away from him.
~*~*~