Dolls; One To Three
I've fallen in love with this series like....an avalanche falls on an unwary skier.
Title: One To Three
Series: DOLLS
Pairing/Characters: Kamijou/Shouta
Rating: PG-15? Suggestive but not explicit.
Summary: 1st, 2nd, 3rd. Three meetings for the 1st and 3rd Captains.
1st.
"Who is that?" Mikoshiba Shouta, Toutoh Police Academy fifth year, asked the student beside him.
"Who?"
"There." He pointed. The figure was quickly receding into the crowd of identically uniformed bodies. "The one who just walked past us. Blond-ish hair. One green eye and one blue."
"Oh - that's Kamijou Riku. He's below us I think. Why do you ask?"
Shouta shrugged. "No reason."
Practise target successfully eliminated on first shot. Light smoke from the barrel of the Colt.
"Hmm...who's that?" The gaze of the questioner was slightly disconcerting. It wasn't only the colour of the irises that was different, but the shape of the pupil as well.
"It's Mikoshiba Shouta."
2nd.
He didn't know how long the other had been standing there. Didn't care. Dirt and red streaks were still embedded in his hands.
"So, how does it feel now? First Brigade Captain? Because I suppose that is what you must be now. Since the previous Captain...passed away." It was surprising, Shouta thought, how fast a person could move from lethargy into speed. That was lost, though, in the feel of the wool of Kamijou's collar clutched under his fingers (more dirt underneath his nails), the pulsing of the vein in Kamijou's neck, the strain on the other's throat as he pressed harder.
"Shut your mouth or I will shut it for you." And even though it was Kamijou who was on the verge of having his windpipe crushed, Shouta's voice was strangled. Their faces were so close that their breaths mingled, one shallow, the other sharp and heavy. Shouta's knuckles were white and he imagined hooking his fingers into Kamijou's mouth and tearing, or shoving the barrel of his pistol in between those slightly open, slightly closed lips and pulling-
However, what was actually being pulled what Kamijou's collar. When had his grip loosened. Kamijou's hand was around his own neck, the difference in colour between his hand and whitened throat obvious. Yet the way he leant against the doorframe, one boot crossed over the other was somehow urbane, satisfied. As if he had achieved a victory.
"Goodbye, Captain." The sound of Kamijou walking out, Shouta sliding to the ground again.
3rd.
It was always like this.
He hated it like this.
Dragging Kamijou's shirt closer to him, still warm from the heat of him, them.
Title: One To Three
Series: DOLLS
Pairing/Characters: Kamijou/Shouta
Rating: PG-15? Suggestive but not explicit.
Summary: 1st, 2nd, 3rd. Three meetings for the 1st and 3rd Captains.
1st.
"Who is that?" Mikoshiba Shouta, Toutoh Police Academy fifth year, asked the student beside him.
"Who?"
"There." He pointed. The figure was quickly receding into the crowd of identically uniformed bodies. "The one who just walked past us. Blond-ish hair. One green eye and one blue."
"Oh - that's Kamijou Riku. He's below us I think. Why do you ask?"
Shouta shrugged. "No reason."
Practise target successfully eliminated on first shot. Light smoke from the barrel of the Colt.
"Hmm...who's that?" The gaze of the questioner was slightly disconcerting. It wasn't only the colour of the irises that was different, but the shape of the pupil as well.
"It's Mikoshiba Shouta."
2nd.
He didn't know how long the other had been standing there. Didn't care. Dirt and red streaks were still embedded in his hands.
"So, how does it feel now? First Brigade Captain? Because I suppose that is what you must be now. Since the previous Captain...passed away." It was surprising, Shouta thought, how fast a person could move from lethargy into speed. That was lost, though, in the feel of the wool of Kamijou's collar clutched under his fingers (more dirt underneath his nails), the pulsing of the vein in Kamijou's neck, the strain on the other's throat as he pressed harder.
"Shut your mouth or I will shut it for you." And even though it was Kamijou who was on the verge of having his windpipe crushed, Shouta's voice was strangled. Their faces were so close that their breaths mingled, one shallow, the other sharp and heavy. Shouta's knuckles were white and he imagined hooking his fingers into Kamijou's mouth and tearing, or shoving the barrel of his pistol in between those slightly open, slightly closed lips and pulling-
However, what was actually being pulled what Kamijou's collar. When had his grip loosened. Kamijou's hand was around his own neck, the difference in colour between his hand and whitened throat obvious. Yet the way he leant against the doorframe, one boot crossed over the other was somehow urbane, satisfied. As if he had achieved a victory.
"Goodbye, Captain." The sound of Kamijou walking out, Shouta sliding to the ground again.
3rd.
It was always like this.
He hated it like this.
Dragging Kamijou's shirt closer to him, still warm from the heat of him, them.