smapfic day 29! - we become light, chapter thirty-eight
thank goodness lj is working again, I can't handle that much html XD
Title: We Become Light
Pairings: Nakai/Tsuyoshi, Kimura/Shingo/Goro
Rating: R for violence and swearing
Notes: Five men meet in a dystopian cyberpunk future to free their city from the Tower, with the help of motorcycle rebels, mysterious memories, and love.
Nakai shut the door to the broadcasting room behind him, feeling dazed. He looked at the rows of communications workers, and realized with a start that several of them were looking back. He was still holding the knife, he'd forgotten the workpad where he'd dropped it, there were still traces of tears on his face, clear for all to see.
The elite had disappeared; Nakai wasn't sure whether to find that reassuring or not.
He ran to the elevator-- no, he didn't dare trust the elevator now, but there was a door next to it that revealed a stairwell, even the Tower had to be practical-- and dashed up to the next floor. He threw open the door, ready to fight through a crowd if necessary-- but the room was a simple laboratory, grey overcast light from the windows illuminating a single table with an IV drip leading down to it--
"Tsuyoshi!" The name all but tore itself out of his throat as he flew to the younger man's side. "Tsuyoshi, wake up, it's Nakai--"
He tried to take Tsuyoshi's hand; the younger man flinched, breathing in sharply, his face twisting in fear and pain. He didn't wake.
Nakai spared a glance for the IV-- experimental saline solution integrating F22-- he yanked the drip out, throwing the whole thing to the floor. How dare they-- how dare they--
Tsuyoshi shuddered, making a soft, broken noise. Nakai took his hand again, brushing sweat-slicked hair from the younger man's forehead. "Tsuyoshi. Tsuyoshi. Wake up."
"Nn--" Tsuyoshi twisted away, nearly sliding off of the table. Nakai caught his shoulders, clutching him desperately-- he could overcome his own fear, but how could he even hope to overcome someone else's?
Comfort. A touch, an arm around a waist, a hug--
Nakai sat on the edge of the table, pulling Tsuyoshi up, wrapping his arms around him tightly. He'd done this so many times, hadn't he? Reaching out and comforting Tsuyoshi in his sleep, waking up warm and comfortable and at peace inside--
Tsuyoshi's breath grew shallow, fast. "Can't--" he mumbled, struggling. "--too weak--"
Nakai pressed closer. "You're not weak. Even Mori thought so." His voice was shaking.
Tsuyoshi trembled as if in reaction. "--just holding everyone back-- again--" His arms stayed limp at his sides.
"You're what got us so far," Nakai told him. He stroked Tsuyoshi's back, remembering the feel of so many mornings and one night. "You taught us kindness. You taught us-- love."
Tsuyoshi's trembling stopped. "--did I?" His hands twitched slightly. "I wanted-- to show you--"
"Yes." Nakai buried his head in Tsuyoshi's neck, breathing in the way the younger man smelled, feeling the warmth of his skin and the pulse of his heart. "I love you, Tsuyoshi, I already did but you taught me how to feel it, I love you, I love you, I--"
Tsuyoshi stirred, breath slowing. His eyelashes flickered against Nakai's skin. "...Nakai?"
Nakai lifted his head, still holding the younger man tightly. "Tsuyoshi." Their eyes met, and Tsuyoshi smiled softly. "You saved me again." His hands found Nakai's back, fingers curling into his jacket. "Nakai. I love you, too."
There weren't any words for what he felt in that moment, or if there were he didn't know them. He leaned in kissed Tsuyoshi, wonderful, perfect, everything.
Tsuyoshi was a little flushed when they pulled apart, gazing at Nakai as if he didn't want to look away. "So, now what?"
Nakai checked him over for injuries, feeling a bit pink himself. "Shingo and the others are going to try to meet up with us. Then we'll--" Tsuyoshi made a noise, his gaze focusing past Nakai, and rolled them both off the other side of the table. A dark blur came leaping over the table after them-- the elite from earlier, something flashing in his hand-- Nakai's hand found the knife in his pocket and flew out, blocking desperately.
The knives connected with a pained noise, the elite bearing down on Nakai. "Traitor," the man said tonelessly. "The Tower will not be fooled."
Nakai struggled to push back against the elite's strength, landing a kick that the man seemed to barely notice. Even if he could gain the upper hand-- Goro's face flashed through his mind, pale and stricken in the spotlight--
Something swung through the air, landing a sharp blow on the elite's head. Nakai scrambled back in the moment of distraction-- it was Tsuyoshi, wielding the toppled IV stand. The elite turned, eyes flicking between Nakai and Tsuyoshi as if assessing threat levels. Then-- Nakai saw the faintest movement in the muscles across his chest-- and the elite sprang toward Tsuyoshi.
Nakai lunged after him, knife in hand, there was no choice, no time to think about it--
Tsuyoshi brought the IV stand around hard, landing a blow inside the elite's knife arm and knocking it wide. The elite reached for Tsuyoshi's throat, knife hand raising again-- and Tsuyoshi grabbed his arm, yanking them both backwards, one leg coming up between them to throw the elite over his head.
The elite hit the floor with a heavy thump. Nakai dove after him and caught an arm around his throat, squeezing as hard as he dared-- and the elite went limp.
Tsuyoshi stood, offering Nakai a hand. "I've been wanting to do that," he said with a little smile. "Should we tie him up?"
Nakai accepted, looking about for anything useful. "Told you you were strong," he said, smiling back. "Maybe we should get to--"
They ducked as the windows on one side suddenly burst in. A dark shape was hovering outside-- a silencer--
"Nakai! Tsuyoshi!" A figure was dangling from a ladder underneath the silencer. They ran over to peer out through the broken glass, wind and scattered raindrops whipping into the room.
It was Shingo, apparently clinging to the ladder for dear life. Above, Goro sat in the pilot seat, Kimura hanging halfway out of the door behind him. "Give me a hand, will you?"
Nakai managed to catch the end of the ladder as Goro maneuvered closer, and they helped Shingo scramble in to safety. "Thank goodness," he said, momentarily sprawling on the floor in relief. Then he was up again, wrapping Tsuyoshi in a tight hug. "Thank goodness."
The silencer hovered slightly lower, and seconds later Kimura came tumbling through the window. He greeted Tsuyoshi with a thump on the shoulder, and immediately turned to lean back out, yelling something into the wind. Goro nodded, reaching up to flip a switch-- when Nakai caught sight of a beam of light. The spotlight was on, cold light searching hungrily through an increasing rain.
Nakai rushed back to the window, pushing past Kimura. Below, fights filled the streets, the tide seemingly even for the time being. If the spotlight hit them-- if they succumbed to fear--
"Goro!" he shouted, above the raging wind. "The spotlight! Stop the spotlight!"
Goro looked up, into the mass of swirling dark clouds above. The spotlight loomed, barely a few stories up, its light almost tangibly bright. The dark-haired man nodded again, his face set in determination. The silencer began to maneuver away.
Kimura grabbed Nakai's shoulder. "What's he doing, are you crazy--"
The dark shape rose higher and higher through the rain, until it was nearly above the spotlight. The beam of light shifted upward, as though trying to follow it. For a split-second, the silencer hung in the air, the light just catching the still-dangling ladder beneath it-- and then it plunged full speed downward toward the spotlight.
It slammed into the lens, great shards of glass flying, the spotlight itself tilting off balance with the force. Then, with a creaking groan, the light tore itself from its bearings, flickering into nothing as it fell from its Tower perch.
"Goro!" Kimura shouted, but they had to duck back inside as debris came raining down, staring helplessly at the pieces tumbling by, any one of which could be--
Something hit the window with a wet smack; it was the rope ladder, hanging down from some point above, just barely reaching their floor. Kimura leaned back out, catching the end, and a figure came sliding down along it, damp and windswept but otherwise in one piece. Goro staggered in through the window and into Kimura's arms, the older man clutching him tightly as if in disbelief that he had survived.
"That was insane," Kimura said, wide-eyed even for someone who regularly threw himself into death-defying feats with careless nonchalance.
"Sorry." Goro looked somewhat amused. "I couldn't think of a better way."
"Now you know how it feels," Shingo muttered to Kimura, rubbing the back of Goro's neck.
The elevator chimed, and Kimura and Nakai whirled. "So, is there a plan?" Tsuyoshi asked, stepping in close behind them.
"Keep moving up," Kimura said, and launched himself forward.
Title: We Become Light
Pairings: Nakai/Tsuyoshi, Kimura/Shingo/Goro
Rating: R for violence and swearing
Notes: Five men meet in a dystopian cyberpunk future to free their city from the Tower, with the help of motorcycle rebels, mysterious memories, and love.
Nakai shut the door to the broadcasting room behind him, feeling dazed. He looked at the rows of communications workers, and realized with a start that several of them were looking back. He was still holding the knife, he'd forgotten the workpad where he'd dropped it, there were still traces of tears on his face, clear for all to see.
The elite had disappeared; Nakai wasn't sure whether to find that reassuring or not.
He ran to the elevator-- no, he didn't dare trust the elevator now, but there was a door next to it that revealed a stairwell, even the Tower had to be practical-- and dashed up to the next floor. He threw open the door, ready to fight through a crowd if necessary-- but the room was a simple laboratory, grey overcast light from the windows illuminating a single table with an IV drip leading down to it--
"Tsuyoshi!" The name all but tore itself out of his throat as he flew to the younger man's side. "Tsuyoshi, wake up, it's Nakai--"
He tried to take Tsuyoshi's hand; the younger man flinched, breathing in sharply, his face twisting in fear and pain. He didn't wake.
Nakai spared a glance for the IV-- experimental saline solution integrating F22-- he yanked the drip out, throwing the whole thing to the floor. How dare they-- how dare they--
Tsuyoshi shuddered, making a soft, broken noise. Nakai took his hand again, brushing sweat-slicked hair from the younger man's forehead. "Tsuyoshi. Tsuyoshi. Wake up."
"Nn--" Tsuyoshi twisted away, nearly sliding off of the table. Nakai caught his shoulders, clutching him desperately-- he could overcome his own fear, but how could he even hope to overcome someone else's?
Comfort. A touch, an arm around a waist, a hug--
Nakai sat on the edge of the table, pulling Tsuyoshi up, wrapping his arms around him tightly. He'd done this so many times, hadn't he? Reaching out and comforting Tsuyoshi in his sleep, waking up warm and comfortable and at peace inside--
Tsuyoshi's breath grew shallow, fast. "Can't--" he mumbled, struggling. "--too weak--"
Nakai pressed closer. "You're not weak. Even Mori thought so." His voice was shaking.
Tsuyoshi trembled as if in reaction. "--just holding everyone back-- again--" His arms stayed limp at his sides.
"You're what got us so far," Nakai told him. He stroked Tsuyoshi's back, remembering the feel of so many mornings and one night. "You taught us kindness. You taught us-- love."
Tsuyoshi's trembling stopped. "--did I?" His hands twitched slightly. "I wanted-- to show you--"
"Yes." Nakai buried his head in Tsuyoshi's neck, breathing in the way the younger man smelled, feeling the warmth of his skin and the pulse of his heart. "I love you, Tsuyoshi, I already did but you taught me how to feel it, I love you, I love you, I--"
Tsuyoshi stirred, breath slowing. His eyelashes flickered against Nakai's skin. "...Nakai?"
Nakai lifted his head, still holding the younger man tightly. "Tsuyoshi." Their eyes met, and Tsuyoshi smiled softly. "You saved me again." His hands found Nakai's back, fingers curling into his jacket. "Nakai. I love you, too."
There weren't any words for what he felt in that moment, or if there were he didn't know them. He leaned in kissed Tsuyoshi, wonderful, perfect, everything.
Tsuyoshi was a little flushed when they pulled apart, gazing at Nakai as if he didn't want to look away. "So, now what?"
Nakai checked him over for injuries, feeling a bit pink himself. "Shingo and the others are going to try to meet up with us. Then we'll--" Tsuyoshi made a noise, his gaze focusing past Nakai, and rolled them both off the other side of the table. A dark blur came leaping over the table after them-- the elite from earlier, something flashing in his hand-- Nakai's hand found the knife in his pocket and flew out, blocking desperately.
The knives connected with a pained noise, the elite bearing down on Nakai. "Traitor," the man said tonelessly. "The Tower will not be fooled."
Nakai struggled to push back against the elite's strength, landing a kick that the man seemed to barely notice. Even if he could gain the upper hand-- Goro's face flashed through his mind, pale and stricken in the spotlight--
Something swung through the air, landing a sharp blow on the elite's head. Nakai scrambled back in the moment of distraction-- it was Tsuyoshi, wielding the toppled IV stand. The elite turned, eyes flicking between Nakai and Tsuyoshi as if assessing threat levels. Then-- Nakai saw the faintest movement in the muscles across his chest-- and the elite sprang toward Tsuyoshi.
Nakai lunged after him, knife in hand, there was no choice, no time to think about it--
Tsuyoshi brought the IV stand around hard, landing a blow inside the elite's knife arm and knocking it wide. The elite reached for Tsuyoshi's throat, knife hand raising again-- and Tsuyoshi grabbed his arm, yanking them both backwards, one leg coming up between them to throw the elite over his head.
The elite hit the floor with a heavy thump. Nakai dove after him and caught an arm around his throat, squeezing as hard as he dared-- and the elite went limp.
Tsuyoshi stood, offering Nakai a hand. "I've been wanting to do that," he said with a little smile. "Should we tie him up?"
Nakai accepted, looking about for anything useful. "Told you you were strong," he said, smiling back. "Maybe we should get to--"
They ducked as the windows on one side suddenly burst in. A dark shape was hovering outside-- a silencer--
"Nakai! Tsuyoshi!" A figure was dangling from a ladder underneath the silencer. They ran over to peer out through the broken glass, wind and scattered raindrops whipping into the room.
It was Shingo, apparently clinging to the ladder for dear life. Above, Goro sat in the pilot seat, Kimura hanging halfway out of the door behind him. "Give me a hand, will you?"
Nakai managed to catch the end of the ladder as Goro maneuvered closer, and they helped Shingo scramble in to safety. "Thank goodness," he said, momentarily sprawling on the floor in relief. Then he was up again, wrapping Tsuyoshi in a tight hug. "Thank goodness."
The silencer hovered slightly lower, and seconds later Kimura came tumbling through the window. He greeted Tsuyoshi with a thump on the shoulder, and immediately turned to lean back out, yelling something into the wind. Goro nodded, reaching up to flip a switch-- when Nakai caught sight of a beam of light. The spotlight was on, cold light searching hungrily through an increasing rain.
Nakai rushed back to the window, pushing past Kimura. Below, fights filled the streets, the tide seemingly even for the time being. If the spotlight hit them-- if they succumbed to fear--
"Goro!" he shouted, above the raging wind. "The spotlight! Stop the spotlight!"
Goro looked up, into the mass of swirling dark clouds above. The spotlight loomed, barely a few stories up, its light almost tangibly bright. The dark-haired man nodded again, his face set in determination. The silencer began to maneuver away.
Kimura grabbed Nakai's shoulder. "What's he doing, are you crazy--"
The dark shape rose higher and higher through the rain, until it was nearly above the spotlight. The beam of light shifted upward, as though trying to follow it. For a split-second, the silencer hung in the air, the light just catching the still-dangling ladder beneath it-- and then it plunged full speed downward toward the spotlight.
It slammed into the lens, great shards of glass flying, the spotlight itself tilting off balance with the force. Then, with a creaking groan, the light tore itself from its bearings, flickering into nothing as it fell from its Tower perch.
"Goro!" Kimura shouted, but they had to duck back inside as debris came raining down, staring helplessly at the pieces tumbling by, any one of which could be--
Something hit the window with a wet smack; it was the rope ladder, hanging down from some point above, just barely reaching their floor. Kimura leaned back out, catching the end, and a figure came sliding down along it, damp and windswept but otherwise in one piece. Goro staggered in through the window and into Kimura's arms, the older man clutching him tightly as if in disbelief that he had survived.
"That was insane," Kimura said, wide-eyed even for someone who regularly threw himself into death-defying feats with careless nonchalance.
"Sorry." Goro looked somewhat amused. "I couldn't think of a better way."
"Now you know how it feels," Shingo muttered to Kimura, rubbing the back of Goro's neck.
The elevator chimed, and Kimura and Nakai whirled. "So, is there a plan?" Tsuyoshi asked, stepping in close behind them.
"Keep moving up," Kimura said, and launched himself forward.