[team 1] punch
Note: not really happy with this but needed to post something so. It's Bakaleya verse and connected/inspired by kira_shadow 's fic for them too.
Bakaleya Verse - Koba-sensei (Miyata) / Mashima Kenji (Tamamori)
The cherry blossoms blooming overhead are too idealistic, the school grounds too clean and well kept, the walls unusually free of vandalism - all together the obvious clues give the dream blatantly away for it is, nothing more than a fantasy - no matter what good influence the girls bring to his school Koba-sensei knows with a sigh of resignation that it will never look like this. So perfect.
Inevitably soon the sweet spring day turns dark and the sounds of uproar and heavy punches filter into his mind. The constant background noise of Bakaleya.
- bang bang -
Something in the distance hits hard and all the blossoms fall dead from the tree at the force of the echo. Koba pauses briefly undecided what action to take, he doesn’t need to be a responsible teacher dealing with conflict in his dreams, he can be a coward. Koba squeezes his eyes tightly shut in fear and when they open again the school is gone replaced with his bedroom.
- bang bang -
The noise somehow follows him from his dream but it’s not longer disorderly students but someone knocking persistently at his front door. Koba’s half asleep still as he rises on auto-pilot to stumble in the direction of the genkan. The lights are all off but through the peephole despite the darkness he recognizes instantly the profile and he no longer minds quite so much being woken up at such a late hour and pulled from such a sweet dream. Sleepy fingers fumble quickly with the locks as a small thrill of anticipation runs down his spine.
“Mashima-kun-” Koba starts.
“Thought I’d drop bye.” Mashima interrupts, speech casual as he shoulders past Koba slipping out of his shoes easily and breezing away in the direction of the bathroom. Koba follows automatically brain still slow, lethargic and confused, usually Mashima only showers after they’ve had sex.
The bathroom lights are bright and Koba blinks lost until his eyesight adjusts - he sees the bright red blood drips in the white sink first then the cuts along Mashima’s cheek, the beginnings of heavy bruises around his right eye, a swollen punctured lip and a heavy gash along his brow bone. From a dream to a nightmare Koba’s chest squeezes tight in fear and his eyes widen in panic.
“What-”
“Fools holding grudges,” Mashima interrupts casually again searching through the wall cabinet for first aid items and cleaning his own wounds with practiced ease. Doesn’t even flinch at the disinfectant. “See, I didn’t fight.” Mashima’s voice drops to a whispers as he turns towards Koba and holds up his knuckles for Koba to inspect - the skin is milky and pure and soft as Koba takes the hand into his - and in contrast to the rest of Mashima’s body there’s not a single scratch or bloody scrape. It’s clear that for all the hits Mashima’s taken there were no punches thrown on his part.
“Aren’t you happy Sensei?”
“How could I be happy when you’re hurt?” Koba questions running a gently thumb along the palm.
“I thought you’d be proud.” Mashima scowls trying to pull his hand away when Koba won’t let go.
“Do they know where you live?” Koba asks worried, guessing at the reason Mashima came here, “We should call the police.”
“It’s fine. They’re not the patient sort, they’ll be bored and gone by tomorrow. Let me stay the night.”
The borrowed sweat pants are too short for Mashima but they fit easily together on the futon. Koba keeps his distance too worried he might in his clumsiness open a cut or brush a bruise so he lets Mashima take the greater share of pillow and blanket.
When Mashima falls asleep first, his features relaxed and at ease Koba can’t resist but watch over and hope his dreams are full of cherry blossoms and peaceful days. His own mind won’t let him rest a mix of bizarre contrasting images of Mashima beaten in pain and memories of other evenings or afternoons when Mashima comes over unannounced. A different thrill runs down his spine in pleasure despite the circumstances as he thinks for all the times they’ve had sex Mashima’s never spent the night.
LTGMars it's your turn ( ～・◻・)～
Bakaleya Verse - Koba-sensei (Miyata) / Mashima Kenji (Tamamori)
The cherry blossoms blooming overhead are too idealistic, the school grounds too clean and well kept, the walls unusually free of vandalism - all together the obvious clues give the dream blatantly away for it is, nothing more than a fantasy - no matter what good influence the girls bring to his school Koba-sensei knows with a sigh of resignation that it will never look like this. So perfect.
Inevitably soon the sweet spring day turns dark and the sounds of uproar and heavy punches filter into his mind. The constant background noise of Bakaleya.
- bang bang -
Something in the distance hits hard and all the blossoms fall dead from the tree at the force of the echo. Koba pauses briefly undecided what action to take, he doesn’t need to be a responsible teacher dealing with conflict in his dreams, he can be a coward. Koba squeezes his eyes tightly shut in fear and when they open again the school is gone replaced with his bedroom.
- bang bang -
The noise somehow follows him from his dream but it’s not longer disorderly students but someone knocking persistently at his front door. Koba’s half asleep still as he rises on auto-pilot to stumble in the direction of the genkan. The lights are all off but through the peephole despite the darkness he recognizes instantly the profile and he no longer minds quite so much being woken up at such a late hour and pulled from such a sweet dream. Sleepy fingers fumble quickly with the locks as a small thrill of anticipation runs down his spine.
“Mashima-kun-” Koba starts.
“Thought I’d drop bye.” Mashima interrupts, speech casual as he shoulders past Koba slipping out of his shoes easily and breezing away in the direction of the bathroom. Koba follows automatically brain still slow, lethargic and confused, usually Mashima only showers after they’ve had sex.
The bathroom lights are bright and Koba blinks lost until his eyesight adjusts - he sees the bright red blood drips in the white sink first then the cuts along Mashima’s cheek, the beginnings of heavy bruises around his right eye, a swollen punctured lip and a heavy gash along his brow bone. From a dream to a nightmare Koba’s chest squeezes tight in fear and his eyes widen in panic.
“What-”
“Fools holding grudges,” Mashima interrupts casually again searching through the wall cabinet for first aid items and cleaning his own wounds with practiced ease. Doesn’t even flinch at the disinfectant. “See, I didn’t fight.” Mashima’s voice drops to a whispers as he turns towards Koba and holds up his knuckles for Koba to inspect - the skin is milky and pure and soft as Koba takes the hand into his - and in contrast to the rest of Mashima’s body there’s not a single scratch or bloody scrape. It’s clear that for all the hits Mashima’s taken there were no punches thrown on his part.
“Aren’t you happy Sensei?”
“How could I be happy when you’re hurt?” Koba questions running a gently thumb along the palm.
“I thought you’d be proud.” Mashima scowls trying to pull his hand away when Koba won’t let go.
“Do they know where you live?” Koba asks worried, guessing at the reason Mashima came here, “We should call the police.”
“It’s fine. They’re not the patient sort, they’ll be bored and gone by tomorrow. Let me stay the night.”
The borrowed sweat pants are too short for Mashima but they fit easily together on the futon. Koba keeps his distance too worried he might in his clumsiness open a cut or brush a bruise so he lets Mashima take the greater share of pillow and blanket.
When Mashima falls asleep first, his features relaxed and at ease Koba can’t resist but watch over and hope his dreams are full of cherry blossoms and peaceful days. His own mind won’t let him rest a mix of bizarre contrasting images of Mashima beaten in pain and memories of other evenings or afternoons when Mashima comes over unannounced. A different thrill runs down his spine in pleasure despite the circumstances as he thinks for all the times they’ve had sex Mashima’s never spent the night.
LTGMars it's your turn ( ～・◻・)～