[KHR] Because my twin wanted Spanner
Title: Little curiosities
Pairing: Spanner x The Vongole. One great sex fest. You didn't see this coming? Hurr...
Rating: Gen. Spanner porn is gen.
Summary: A week in Spanner's life
Note: Ara. This was maman's request from me during Christmas. Ara... this came in too late, but I hope you don't mind, maman. As I said, this is a challenge for me to find my words again. I hope you like it, twin. I had fun writing it. :3
Little Curosities
There were seven things that Spanner didn’t understand and he spent seven days trying to understand them.
Mondays were spent for cleaning and airing out the week-old dust gathered on his desk. On this day, the Sun Guardian would come in with a beaming smile, fresh from his morning boxing regimen at the gym.
“Hey! Need some help?”
The mechanic would quietly nod in reply, handing a box or two to the guardian. He’d immediately return to his routine, wiping/arranging/brushing parts of his machines until he would hear something rip/crash/crack at the end of his lab. Uh-oh. Not again.
With curious steps, he would look at the damage, less on his things and more on the man who was probably bleeding on his floor. “Don’t ya worry about it, Spanner. It’ll heal soon!” Ryohei would answer, laughing brashly as he propped himself back up with his better arm.
Together, they would stare at the deep gash in his arm and watch the muscles and tissues slowly regenerate itself like plaster being poured into a mold. The mechanic watched with utmost fascination, wondering for the rest of the day how those same muscles would work had he accidentally lost control of a chain saw or poured sulfur over the Sun Guardian’s skin. It was a miraculous curiosity indeed, even if he was one who did not believe in miracles.
Tuesdays would mean a visit to the slovenly Thunder Guardian’s bedroom. Or was it his armament room? The mechanic honestly didn’t know since the room had a bed and Lambo was messy enough to leave his guns, rifles, and bazookas on the floor. These days were days spent helping the guardian find upgrades for his artillery -- laser pointers, custom bullets, coils and gazettes, name it. It was their goal for the day to come up with a crazy gun that the guardian could probably toy with during his hits.
His youth as a guardian always fascinated the mechanic. Being ten years younger from the lot made the kid really interesting.
On these days, he would always find the guardian asleep, snoring like a cow with a comic over his head. It became all the more interesting for Spanner when he took out a tazer he kept in his pocket and stunned the boy like a bull.
One… two… thirty five minutes later and the guardian would still sleep sounder than a cow after grazing. During those minutes, Spanner would run equations in his head about human conductivity. Was it the hair that made him less conducive? Or did those horns disperse the electricity elsewhere? More so, how did he keep those horns on while he’s fighting? He’s checked the horns many times and it doesn’t have velcro in it. Nor does Lambo’s head. It never made sense to the mechanic but as he doused the boy with some water to wake, he found himself smiling at his electric experiment. It was an amusing curiosity indeed.
On Wednesday afternoons, he would find himself in the company of the Mist Guardian, Chrome Dokuro. She would carry with her a pot of tea and two small cups, greeting the mechanic with a soft “Good afternoon.”
Spanner always fumbled for his words when the young lady was around, only because he can never figure out who he’s talking to. Sometimes he would hear her soft voice laugh about some funny thing she read over the internet and the next minute he would find himself talking to a man giving him a fair warning not to get too close to his Nagi or to his Tsuna.
The mechanic would often answer Mukuro with a sly grin or a taunting smirk. It was interesting enough for him to figure out the mystery of the man’s possession. He had never believed in such mystical things, yet to see one happen before him at a trigger of some ill-placed jealousy made the mechanic all the more curious on how this Mist Guardian actually worked. A far stranger curiosity indeed.
Thursday would be a busy day for Spanner. Or shall we say explosive. He would get a visit from the Cloud Guardian at exactly 7:00 a.m., right before he could even take a sip of his morning coffee.
“Have you made the necessary adjustments?” Hibari would ask, and Spanner would simply nod and drag his feet out of his computers and to his storage area to take out four, sometimes five units of Gola Mosca. With a crack of a neck, the guardian would do his weekly exercise, taking his tonfa out to crash and blow the Moscas out of proportion. Thankfully, this was all done in the safety of Spanner’s lab.
When the Cloud Guardian knocked the heads of the Moscas, the walls of his test room shook with the big explosions that came after. It was a beautiful sight to see, like a perfectly executed napalm explosion, smoke and fire exponentially covering the area of his testing room.
And each week the Cloud Guardian would emerge unscathed, except, if lucky, for a small singe on his suit. He would tug his suit as he exits the test room and leave the lab without a word except for a thin smile on his face.
Once Hibari left, Spanner would look at the numbers left by the experiment, completely baffled how every week Hibari’s numbers just didn’t compute. He would make tedious adjustments, making his creations smarter, stronger, and faster. Yet the guardian always rose above and beyond it. It was an amazing curiosity.
The next day was the Rain Guardian’s turn in his laboratory, armed with a sword and dressed in his hakama. Inside the same room that exploded the day before, Yamamoto would wave his hand eagerly and shout “Hey Spanner! Bring it on!!”
The mechanic would a press a button after and then the guardian would be surrounded by ten androids, slightly smaller and swifter than Gola Mosca. Spanner would crouch on his chair and observe the battle with much curiosity, watching the guardian’s dim-witted grin change to a vicious smirk. Yamamoto was almost like Hibari in terms of strength and it was amazing how the guardian would knock his androids down like domino blocks -- until Spanner presses another button. And he’d hear a body crash unto a wall. And it wasn’t an android.
He’d then hear the guardian shout “I’m okay,” followed by a strained chuckle. Yamamoto would regain his composure not soon after and wave his hand once more to the mechanic. As Spanner watched the guardian destroy then crash to a series of walls he’s laid out, he pondered on the limits of peripheral vision. For sure, the guardian didn’t have any problems with his. He got those androids down where he wanted them. But those walls seem to escape him.
It is then that Spanner would question on the concept of luck, that maybe, there were guys just unlucky with things. In Yamamoto’s case, he ran out of luck with walls. They’ve been doing this every week and yet the guardian would still slam to those walls without fail. He had hoped the guardian would improve with their training, but the walls just came in his way. Literally, what an unlucky curiosity.
On Saturdays, Gokudera would visit his laboratory, often stopping at one of the tables in his lab where the mechanic has laid out a chess set. It took one move of the pawn for the mechanic to take his cue and drop whatever he was doing and challenge the guardian to a game. There were days where their games would go on for hours, and often it happened on days when the guardian was calmer and acted like the brimming genius that he is. And there were days when their games were shorter, where he would do quick strident moves that often lead to his pyrrhic downfall. Spanner would keep his eyes on the game yet keep his ears listening to every grumble the Storm Guardian made.
“How could Tsuna choose him!?” would be followed by a hasty move of a rook. “Didn’t he trust me?” would entail the queen rushing forward to save the king before Spanner would call a checkmate. It is on these days that Spanner questioned the guardian’s genius. How could someone create his own hieroglyph be easily distraught over a few words? Are true geniuses humanity’s eager puppies at heart? As he ran the games they played the rest of the day, the mechanic pondered over his definition of genius. It was a baffling curiosity, one that struck him harder than most.
By the time the family’s Sunday lunch started, Spanner's more baffled than he already was than when the week had started. There were more things to ask and more things to compute to the point that Spanner questioned the very logic he’s equated his life to. And it unsettled him greatly to the point that he found himself wryly smiling in his seat when Tsuna stopped by to say “Hi” to him.
“How was your week, Spanner-san?” The Vongole would ask, his smile brimming like sunshine. The mechanic would turn by Tsuna’s way and answer him with a curt “OK” before detailing to him some details of the week that just came. The Vongole would listen intently, like he would every week, to the small details, to the big discoveries, and even to the mundane things. Spanner’s eyes would shift for every expression the Vongole made for anything that he said. He couldn’t see anything questionable. The man was honest, straightforward, and expressed complete faith in every failure and victory that his men made. All the more, the man would actually spend his time with him in earnest. Listening. Laughing. Like a good friend.
And as the Vongole asked more of Spanner’s ‘experiments’ (as he would call it), he was curious about was why he was sitting next to him and why he cannot find any reason to leave his side. For Spanner, this was the greatest curiosity indeed. Somehow, he could find no reason to leave the Vongole.
Pairing: Spanner x The Vongole. One great sex fest. You didn't see this coming? Hurr...
Rating: Gen. Spanner porn is gen.
Summary: A week in Spanner's life
Note: Ara. This was maman's request from me during Christmas. Ara... this came in too late, but I hope you don't mind, maman. As I said, this is a challenge for me to find my words again. I hope you like it, twin. I had fun writing it. :3
Little Curosities
There were seven things that Spanner didn’t understand and he spent seven days trying to understand them.
Mondays were spent for cleaning and airing out the week-old dust gathered on his desk. On this day, the Sun Guardian would come in with a beaming smile, fresh from his morning boxing regimen at the gym.
“Hey! Need some help?”
The mechanic would quietly nod in reply, handing a box or two to the guardian. He’d immediately return to his routine, wiping/arranging/brushing parts of his machines until he would hear something rip/crash/crack at the end of his lab. Uh-oh. Not again.
With curious steps, he would look at the damage, less on his things and more on the man who was probably bleeding on his floor. “Don’t ya worry about it, Spanner. It’ll heal soon!” Ryohei would answer, laughing brashly as he propped himself back up with his better arm.
Together, they would stare at the deep gash in his arm and watch the muscles and tissues slowly regenerate itself like plaster being poured into a mold. The mechanic watched with utmost fascination, wondering for the rest of the day how those same muscles would work had he accidentally lost control of a chain saw or poured sulfur over the Sun Guardian’s skin. It was a miraculous curiosity indeed, even if he was one who did not believe in miracles.
Tuesdays would mean a visit to the slovenly Thunder Guardian’s bedroom. Or was it his armament room? The mechanic honestly didn’t know since the room had a bed and Lambo was messy enough to leave his guns, rifles, and bazookas on the floor. These days were days spent helping the guardian find upgrades for his artillery -- laser pointers, custom bullets, coils and gazettes, name it. It was their goal for the day to come up with a crazy gun that the guardian could probably toy with during his hits.
His youth as a guardian always fascinated the mechanic. Being ten years younger from the lot made the kid really interesting.
On these days, he would always find the guardian asleep, snoring like a cow with a comic over his head. It became all the more interesting for Spanner when he took out a tazer he kept in his pocket and stunned the boy like a bull.
One… two… thirty five minutes later and the guardian would still sleep sounder than a cow after grazing. During those minutes, Spanner would run equations in his head about human conductivity. Was it the hair that made him less conducive? Or did those horns disperse the electricity elsewhere? More so, how did he keep those horns on while he’s fighting? He’s checked the horns many times and it doesn’t have velcro in it. Nor does Lambo’s head. It never made sense to the mechanic but as he doused the boy with some water to wake, he found himself smiling at his electric experiment. It was an amusing curiosity indeed.
On Wednesday afternoons, he would find himself in the company of the Mist Guardian, Chrome Dokuro. She would carry with her a pot of tea and two small cups, greeting the mechanic with a soft “Good afternoon.”
Spanner always fumbled for his words when the young lady was around, only because he can never figure out who he’s talking to. Sometimes he would hear her soft voice laugh about some funny thing she read over the internet and the next minute he would find himself talking to a man giving him a fair warning not to get too close to his Nagi or to his Tsuna.
The mechanic would often answer Mukuro with a sly grin or a taunting smirk. It was interesting enough for him to figure out the mystery of the man’s possession. He had never believed in such mystical things, yet to see one happen before him at a trigger of some ill-placed jealousy made the mechanic all the more curious on how this Mist Guardian actually worked. A far stranger curiosity indeed.
Thursday would be a busy day for Spanner. Or shall we say explosive. He would get a visit from the Cloud Guardian at exactly 7:00 a.m., right before he could even take a sip of his morning coffee.
“Have you made the necessary adjustments?” Hibari would ask, and Spanner would simply nod and drag his feet out of his computers and to his storage area to take out four, sometimes five units of Gola Mosca. With a crack of a neck, the guardian would do his weekly exercise, taking his tonfa out to crash and blow the Moscas out of proportion. Thankfully, this was all done in the safety of Spanner’s lab.
When the Cloud Guardian knocked the heads of the Moscas, the walls of his test room shook with the big explosions that came after. It was a beautiful sight to see, like a perfectly executed napalm explosion, smoke and fire exponentially covering the area of his testing room.
And each week the Cloud Guardian would emerge unscathed, except, if lucky, for a small singe on his suit. He would tug his suit as he exits the test room and leave the lab without a word except for a thin smile on his face.
Once Hibari left, Spanner would look at the numbers left by the experiment, completely baffled how every week Hibari’s numbers just didn’t compute. He would make tedious adjustments, making his creations smarter, stronger, and faster. Yet the guardian always rose above and beyond it. It was an amazing curiosity.
The next day was the Rain Guardian’s turn in his laboratory, armed with a sword and dressed in his hakama. Inside the same room that exploded the day before, Yamamoto would wave his hand eagerly and shout “Hey Spanner! Bring it on!!”
The mechanic would a press a button after and then the guardian would be surrounded by ten androids, slightly smaller and swifter than Gola Mosca. Spanner would crouch on his chair and observe the battle with much curiosity, watching the guardian’s dim-witted grin change to a vicious smirk. Yamamoto was almost like Hibari in terms of strength and it was amazing how the guardian would knock his androids down like domino blocks -- until Spanner presses another button. And he’d hear a body crash unto a wall. And it wasn’t an android.
He’d then hear the guardian shout “I’m okay,” followed by a strained chuckle. Yamamoto would regain his composure not soon after and wave his hand once more to the mechanic. As Spanner watched the guardian destroy then crash to a series of walls he’s laid out, he pondered on the limits of peripheral vision. For sure, the guardian didn’t have any problems with his. He got those androids down where he wanted them. But those walls seem to escape him.
It is then that Spanner would question on the concept of luck, that maybe, there were guys just unlucky with things. In Yamamoto’s case, he ran out of luck with walls. They’ve been doing this every week and yet the guardian would still slam to those walls without fail. He had hoped the guardian would improve with their training, but the walls just came in his way. Literally, what an unlucky curiosity.
On Saturdays, Gokudera would visit his laboratory, often stopping at one of the tables in his lab where the mechanic has laid out a chess set. It took one move of the pawn for the mechanic to take his cue and drop whatever he was doing and challenge the guardian to a game. There were days where their games would go on for hours, and often it happened on days when the guardian was calmer and acted like the brimming genius that he is. And there were days when their games were shorter, where he would do quick strident moves that often lead to his pyrrhic downfall. Spanner would keep his eyes on the game yet keep his ears listening to every grumble the Storm Guardian made.
“How could Tsuna choose him!?” would be followed by a hasty move of a rook. “Didn’t he trust me?” would entail the queen rushing forward to save the king before Spanner would call a checkmate. It is on these days that Spanner questioned the guardian’s genius. How could someone create his own hieroglyph be easily distraught over a few words? Are true geniuses humanity’s eager puppies at heart? As he ran the games they played the rest of the day, the mechanic pondered over his definition of genius. It was a baffling curiosity, one that struck him harder than most.
By the time the family’s Sunday lunch started, Spanner's more baffled than he already was than when the week had started. There were more things to ask and more things to compute to the point that Spanner questioned the very logic he’s equated his life to. And it unsettled him greatly to the point that he found himself wryly smiling in his seat when Tsuna stopped by to say “Hi” to him.
“How was your week, Spanner-san?” The Vongole would ask, his smile brimming like sunshine. The mechanic would turn by Tsuna’s way and answer him with a curt “OK” before detailing to him some details of the week that just came. The Vongole would listen intently, like he would every week, to the small details, to the big discoveries, and even to the mundane things. Spanner’s eyes would shift for every expression the Vongole made for anything that he said. He couldn’t see anything questionable. The man was honest, straightforward, and expressed complete faith in every failure and victory that his men made. All the more, the man would actually spend his time with him in earnest. Listening. Laughing. Like a good friend.
And as the Vongole asked more of Spanner’s ‘experiments’ (as he would call it), he was curious about was why he was sitting next to him and why he cannot find any reason to leave his side. For Spanner, this was the greatest curiosity indeed. Somehow, he could find no reason to leave the Vongole.