La la la More Fic
Yep. I did more. I'm getting addicted to my own fic. Continues on from Unexpected Guests and Observing the Unobservable but they are not prerequisite to the understanding of this one. Mostly because there's not actually any plot. Hah.
Title: Steadfast and Hungry
Author: takadainmate
Rating: PG-13 probably
Description: Fai and Kurogane wander, Fai watches Kurogane talk and there is an alley.
Steadfast and Hungry
It never seemed to be daytime. The skies were so thick with black smoke and strange mists that the sun never really had a chance. It served only to create red, fractious patterns over the world as it rose and sank. Day was only a slightly less dark version of night. Electricity burned continuously, buzzing and humming and giving out strange artificial heat and over-bright white light and all the while wearing the world down just that little bit more. The sound and the glow and the warmth fascinated Fai. Like a moth to a flame, Kurogane had said, and though Fai had never even heard of a moth, he took it as an insult anyway. Which it had been.
They drifted. Street to house, house to bar, bar to street, deeper and deeper into the darker side of the world. All the while Kurogane complained and balked at the air and glared at the people and glared at Fai, as though this world was his fault. Fai watched Kurogane, and Kurogane watched back and they wandered around together, looking for a feather that wasn’t theirs. Another bar, another in-any-other-world undrinkable drink, and Kurogane was getting himself into another argument.
Fai watched in silence, leaning back on an old wooden chair which had seen better days and an upholsterer who had been either drunk or really into Contemporary Design. He counted off the Prerequisite Warning Signs for Kurogane’s Loss of Temper on his fingers. Set jaw (one), solid stance (two), straight back (three), shoulders tense (four), deep, brooding frown (only four and a half really, because Kurogane wore it most of the time anyway). It was only a quarter past so-called-tequila-shot and the Ninja was already in full swing; hand gripping his sword tightly (five and a half), a warning his soon-to-be opponents neither noticed nor heeded. Two more drinks, or one insult, and Kurogane would be trying to beat information out of people again.
Kurogane claimed to hate this world, but there was a wide, feral grin on his face as he downed another drink. It was anticipation. Fai had seen it so many times. In this world, in that world, in his own world. It was the anticipation of a good fight. Or a bad fight. Fai got the impression Kurogane didn’t really care just so long as he was fighting something. Which was probably why Kurogane liked him so much, Fai concluded. Everything they ever did together seemed like a battle; a conversation became a challenge, a grin became a dare, a touch became inevitable disagreement. It was always the same in some ways, but it was a game Fai thought he would never tire of. Maybe Kurogane wouldn’t either. They would look and prod and wander together and sit on the floor and drink but still their conversations would go nowhere. They would go nowhere.
Fai would have sighed dramatically, and lamented the tragedy that was their relationship. Except they didn’t really have one and Fai didn’t feel like it anyway. He was enjoying watching Kurogane too much. It felt oddly voyeuristic; wasn’t he the one Kurogane should be directing those dangerous scowls at? Gritted teeth, clenched fists and the rest. Didn’t Kurogane reserve those just for him? Well no. They were for everyone, really. How sharing Kuro-pon could be, Fai thought sardonically. But still. Fai took some perverse pride in seemingly being the only person in the universe (that he knew of) who could effect Kurogane the way he did. Kurogane’s words to him more terse than simply bored, his looks more piercing and honest. And longer. And more often. And in this place there was no civility or regard between them. Or between Kurogane and the world. Fai liked Kurogane like this, all emotion and illogic.
He was watching. It didn’t take long. Another’s touch, and Kurogane was brushing them off, fiercely smacking the unfortunate man into the floor. There were protests and insults exchanged, Kurogane’s demands reiterated with a most obvious handle on his sword now, but they would not yield. Pride was at stake and Fai scoffed at the concept, especially at such a thing in such a world. But he recognised that Kurogane knew it well and could not help but wonder if Kurogane was actually picking a fight.
Knives were produced, and sharper words. Fai finished his drink, gagging slightly at the vinegar-esque aftertaste, and stood, meeting the eyes of the man sitting at the next table. He was all black beard and long shaggy hair, dark eyes reflecting curiosity rather than the usual suspicion. Fai smiled. There was a loud smash, shouts, laughter and cries of foul play rising from the crowd. Fai looked back to see Kurogane clutching the back of his head with his left hand, red running over his fingers. There was glass on the floor and raw rage on Kurogane’s face. He didn’t turn, stood his ground like a good Ninja. His assailants attacked anyway. Fai was surprised. In the few seconds he had looked away, an argument with one man had become a fight with three. Fai stepped back, closer to the door, and leaned against the wall, smiling and wondering if Kurogane had always been this bad or if it was the world corrupting him. He wondered how else Kurogane might be corrupted. And Fai watched, along with all the other drifters and hopeless of this world, indifference and defeat smeared as clearly as the grime covering their dull faces.
Hand still to his head Kurogane swung high and caught the tallest of the attackers on the side of the head with the back of his sword. The man spun away, hit the bar and fell unceremoniously to the floor. Fai cringed. He wouldn’t want to be down there. It was sticky underfoot, coated in stains of every shade of dirt, and littered with the detritus of an age of not-being-cleaned. Another body fell, tripping over the first as he backed away. Kurogane’s eyes narrowed and he used the butt of the sword to punch the remaining assailant in the stomach, hand still clutching his head. Show off. The crowd cheered and booed and were generally noisy as the man doubled over, hacking up what looked worryingly like the liquor they served at the bar. His partner growled and made to retrieve his knife, but before he could stand Kurogane turned away and made for the door, his eyes fixed on Fai. No smile now. No grin. But no frown either. Fai thought perhaps this was Kurogane’s Special Stress Relief Technique. There were yells and curses but Kurogane didn’t seem to notice. He just took Fai’s arm roughly with a bloody hand and pulled him from the bar. He didn’t look back. They wouldn’t follow. It was the reason Kurogane turned his back on them. Cowards.
“You enjoyed that.” Kurogane’s voice was tinged with anger, and annoyance. But it sounded more like Kurogane was angry at himself rather than Fai. He continued to drag Fai down the narrow, brown-lit street. Fai let him.
“You enjoyed it more.” And that didn’t help. The frown returned and Kurogane grunted in disapproval. Fai chuckled.
“I hate this place,” Kurogane spat and turned a corner, lowering his hand from the back of his head and gripping his sword tightly. Maybe the bleeding had stopped but thick red still clung to Kurogane’s hair and neck. That had to have hurt. Still, Kurogane seemed unconcerned with his wound, eyes and concentration fixed unwaveringly before him, cautious and wary. Fai watched him and realized he was protecting him. Fai let him.
“You seemed to be having fun back there,” Fai teased, an easy grin on his face. Kurogane made it easy.
“Damn,” he swore, pulling Fai closer to his side and Fai could see Kurogane listening. It’s just that hum, Kuro-mii, Fai thought. That light that they make. It was noisy and Fai wondered if it was deafening to the Ninja. “I’m going to end up like you at this rate.” And Fai had a clap a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter at that.
“Like me?” he asked through fingers and guffaws. Kurogane spared him an accusing look, then scowled back at the shadows. “No one can be like me!” Movement in the darkness beyond the light, and Kurogane’s grip on his arm tightened.
“Crazy like you,” Kurogane clarified, not disagreeing, his voice lower now. Fai thought it pointless and there was an eruption of riotous laughter somewhere in the distance. There was that knife-edge again. “This world is insane,” Kurogane said distastefully. This time Fai did not disagree.
“I don’t see,” Fai said, amusement in his voice, “How my mental state has anything to do with you starting bar-room brawls, Kuro-chi.” Kurogane was picking up speed. He scoffed.
“I didn’t start it.”
“Uh huh,” Fai replied agreeably, earning him another pointed look from Kurogane. He offered a bright smile in return. Kurogane stopped walking and stared at him. In the dim street light all Fai could see was angry shadows and piercing red eyes. This, Fai thought, Is what I believe is called “a moment”, and wondered if he should be blushing or something. Except he wasn’t fifteen and didn’t think he had ever blushed at anything in his life that didn’t involve severe wind-chill factors or inordinately high alcohol percentages.
Kurogane’s face snapped to the side, red eyes focused and seeing something beyond the darkness that Fai could not. But he could feel it. Something living. Something dangerous. Silent movement that Kurogane’s eyes followed intently and Fai couldn’t help but chuckle. Kurogane’s Super Secret Ninja Technique: Ultimate Glare Of Doom!
“What’s so funny?” Kurogane demanded, usual irritation in his voice coating tension and caution. He started moving again, slowly at first, eyes still locked to the shadows.
“You don’t need a sword, Kuro-rin.” Fai was teasing again, his tone carefree and oddly suited to the situation. “All you need is those eyes and you’ll scare off any enemy.” Faster walking and a slight lessening of his grip on Fai. Kurogane’s frown deepened and Fai knew he’d hit a nerve somewhere.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kurogane mumbled. Moodily.
“It’s the glare,” Fai replied, always choosing his words carefully. Kurogane humphed and it sounded like approval. “I’ve been subjected to it enough, so I should know how scary it is,” Fai went on. A left turn, a right turn. Fai had no idea where they were. Hadn’t been paying attention and was surprised that he didn’t much care. “You do know where we’re going, right?” he asked anyway and Kurogane didn’t deign to answer. “Because if you don’t…”
And then Fai was wrenched into an alley, pitch black, air thick and heavy in the confined space and Kurogane pushed him against the wall and stood in front of him, looking back out into the light. Fai didn’t like it. He couldn’t see and the walls felt too close. He looked up, hoping to see the sky, but all he could see was walls and black and a dark shadow that was Kurogane. Fai took the arm he was still being held with, needing to hold onto something that wasn’t damp and cold and fell apart in his hand in what for him was nothingness. Kurogane stepped closer, which wasn’t really helping the claustrophobia threatening to grip Fai, but he appreciated the gesture anyway and just held that arm and heard figures running past out in that world of light.
Then Kurogane’s mouth was at his ear, whispering.
“I don’t start fights unless I have to,” as though that ended their earlier discussion.
“But did you have to prove your point by dragging me down this horrible alley?” Even if he couldn’t see Kurogane, Fai knew full well that Kurogane could see him, so he painted a mock-annoyed grin on his face that wasn’t really mock at all. Kurogane moved closer still.
“Are you scared?” There was amusement in his voice. Another challenge and Fai didn’t think this was very fair when he couldn’t even see Kurogane’s arm planted beside his head, or Kurogane’s eyes burning trails across his neck. But he could feel it. Fai raised his free hand to rest on Kurogane’s shoulder and pulled him a little closer.
“Why would I be scared,” he chided, “When I have a big strong Ninja like you to protect me.” Kurogane snorted a laugh and made to move back, but Fai wasn’t losing this round and he held Kurogane still and let the hand lying on the Ninja’s shoulder roam up his neck and across his face to his lips. Kurogane said nothing, and for a moment they just stood there in the darkness and the dampness and Fai felt Kurogane’s breath against his finger and Kurogane’s hand on his arm. What was he waiting for anyway? Wasn’t this about as much as he was going to get by way of invitation? He wished he could see Kurogane’s face. He imagined a scowl, more curious than angry and went with that image as his hand slid to Kurogane’s chin and he leaned forward to within inches of his face, eyes searching for eyes. Still shadow, but now that shadow was breathing harder than usual and Fai wondered if the Ninja knew he was doing that. It made him wonder what he looked like to Kurogane. Not a dark shapeless form. Not a dim shadow of reality. But Fai was grateful for the breath and the not-silence and pressed his lips to Kurogane’s.
Kurogane did nothing for a moment, not surprised or angry or anything, so Fai just ran his tongue along Kurogane’s lips, tasting bad liquor and feeling warm skin. His hand slid to the back of the Ninja’s neck and he felt drying blood and cold flesh and it just felt like Kurogane should. He was kissing him, then Kurogane was kissing him back, intense, serious, angry. Kurogane pressed Fai harder against the wall, his hands now running over his body in search of something that wasn’t rough, dark cloth. Lips together, hands and tongues struggling, and the world beyond that alley forgotten.
Fai kissed him. Kurogane let him.
Comments and concrit welcome. I am always looking to improve my new shiny pretentious writing style!
Title: Steadfast and Hungry
Author: takadainmate
Rating: PG-13 probably
Description: Fai and Kurogane wander, Fai watches Kurogane talk and there is an alley.
Steadfast and Hungry
It never seemed to be daytime. The skies were so thick with black smoke and strange mists that the sun never really had a chance. It served only to create red, fractious patterns over the world as it rose and sank. Day was only a slightly less dark version of night. Electricity burned continuously, buzzing and humming and giving out strange artificial heat and over-bright white light and all the while wearing the world down just that little bit more. The sound and the glow and the warmth fascinated Fai. Like a moth to a flame, Kurogane had said, and though Fai had never even heard of a moth, he took it as an insult anyway. Which it had been.
They drifted. Street to house, house to bar, bar to street, deeper and deeper into the darker side of the world. All the while Kurogane complained and balked at the air and glared at the people and glared at Fai, as though this world was his fault. Fai watched Kurogane, and Kurogane watched back and they wandered around together, looking for a feather that wasn’t theirs. Another bar, another in-any-other-world undrinkable drink, and Kurogane was getting himself into another argument.
Fai watched in silence, leaning back on an old wooden chair which had seen better days and an upholsterer who had been either drunk or really into Contemporary Design. He counted off the Prerequisite Warning Signs for Kurogane’s Loss of Temper on his fingers. Set jaw (one), solid stance (two), straight back (three), shoulders tense (four), deep, brooding frown (only four and a half really, because Kurogane wore it most of the time anyway). It was only a quarter past so-called-tequila-shot and the Ninja was already in full swing; hand gripping his sword tightly (five and a half), a warning his soon-to-be opponents neither noticed nor heeded. Two more drinks, or one insult, and Kurogane would be trying to beat information out of people again.
Kurogane claimed to hate this world, but there was a wide, feral grin on his face as he downed another drink. It was anticipation. Fai had seen it so many times. In this world, in that world, in his own world. It was the anticipation of a good fight. Or a bad fight. Fai got the impression Kurogane didn’t really care just so long as he was fighting something. Which was probably why Kurogane liked him so much, Fai concluded. Everything they ever did together seemed like a battle; a conversation became a challenge, a grin became a dare, a touch became inevitable disagreement. It was always the same in some ways, but it was a game Fai thought he would never tire of. Maybe Kurogane wouldn’t either. They would look and prod and wander together and sit on the floor and drink but still their conversations would go nowhere. They would go nowhere.
Fai would have sighed dramatically, and lamented the tragedy that was their relationship. Except they didn’t really have one and Fai didn’t feel like it anyway. He was enjoying watching Kurogane too much. It felt oddly voyeuristic; wasn’t he the one Kurogane should be directing those dangerous scowls at? Gritted teeth, clenched fists and the rest. Didn’t Kurogane reserve those just for him? Well no. They were for everyone, really. How sharing Kuro-pon could be, Fai thought sardonically. But still. Fai took some perverse pride in seemingly being the only person in the universe (that he knew of) who could effect Kurogane the way he did. Kurogane’s words to him more terse than simply bored, his looks more piercing and honest. And longer. And more often. And in this place there was no civility or regard between them. Or between Kurogane and the world. Fai liked Kurogane like this, all emotion and illogic.
He was watching. It didn’t take long. Another’s touch, and Kurogane was brushing them off, fiercely smacking the unfortunate man into the floor. There were protests and insults exchanged, Kurogane’s demands reiterated with a most obvious handle on his sword now, but they would not yield. Pride was at stake and Fai scoffed at the concept, especially at such a thing in such a world. But he recognised that Kurogane knew it well and could not help but wonder if Kurogane was actually picking a fight.
Knives were produced, and sharper words. Fai finished his drink, gagging slightly at the vinegar-esque aftertaste, and stood, meeting the eyes of the man sitting at the next table. He was all black beard and long shaggy hair, dark eyes reflecting curiosity rather than the usual suspicion. Fai smiled. There was a loud smash, shouts, laughter and cries of foul play rising from the crowd. Fai looked back to see Kurogane clutching the back of his head with his left hand, red running over his fingers. There was glass on the floor and raw rage on Kurogane’s face. He didn’t turn, stood his ground like a good Ninja. His assailants attacked anyway. Fai was surprised. In the few seconds he had looked away, an argument with one man had become a fight with three. Fai stepped back, closer to the door, and leaned against the wall, smiling and wondering if Kurogane had always been this bad or if it was the world corrupting him. He wondered how else Kurogane might be corrupted. And Fai watched, along with all the other drifters and hopeless of this world, indifference and defeat smeared as clearly as the grime covering their dull faces.
Hand still to his head Kurogane swung high and caught the tallest of the attackers on the side of the head with the back of his sword. The man spun away, hit the bar and fell unceremoniously to the floor. Fai cringed. He wouldn’t want to be down there. It was sticky underfoot, coated in stains of every shade of dirt, and littered with the detritus of an age of not-being-cleaned. Another body fell, tripping over the first as he backed away. Kurogane’s eyes narrowed and he used the butt of the sword to punch the remaining assailant in the stomach, hand still clutching his head. Show off. The crowd cheered and booed and were generally noisy as the man doubled over, hacking up what looked worryingly like the liquor they served at the bar. His partner growled and made to retrieve his knife, but before he could stand Kurogane turned away and made for the door, his eyes fixed on Fai. No smile now. No grin. But no frown either. Fai thought perhaps this was Kurogane’s Special Stress Relief Technique. There were yells and curses but Kurogane didn’t seem to notice. He just took Fai’s arm roughly with a bloody hand and pulled him from the bar. He didn’t look back. They wouldn’t follow. It was the reason Kurogane turned his back on them. Cowards.
“You enjoyed that.” Kurogane’s voice was tinged with anger, and annoyance. But it sounded more like Kurogane was angry at himself rather than Fai. He continued to drag Fai down the narrow, brown-lit street. Fai let him.
“You enjoyed it more.” And that didn’t help. The frown returned and Kurogane grunted in disapproval. Fai chuckled.
“I hate this place,” Kurogane spat and turned a corner, lowering his hand from the back of his head and gripping his sword tightly. Maybe the bleeding had stopped but thick red still clung to Kurogane’s hair and neck. That had to have hurt. Still, Kurogane seemed unconcerned with his wound, eyes and concentration fixed unwaveringly before him, cautious and wary. Fai watched him and realized he was protecting him. Fai let him.
“You seemed to be having fun back there,” Fai teased, an easy grin on his face. Kurogane made it easy.
“Damn,” he swore, pulling Fai closer to his side and Fai could see Kurogane listening. It’s just that hum, Kuro-mii, Fai thought. That light that they make. It was noisy and Fai wondered if it was deafening to the Ninja. “I’m going to end up like you at this rate.” And Fai had a clap a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter at that.
“Like me?” he asked through fingers and guffaws. Kurogane spared him an accusing look, then scowled back at the shadows. “No one can be like me!” Movement in the darkness beyond the light, and Kurogane’s grip on his arm tightened.
“Crazy like you,” Kurogane clarified, not disagreeing, his voice lower now. Fai thought it pointless and there was an eruption of riotous laughter somewhere in the distance. There was that knife-edge again. “This world is insane,” Kurogane said distastefully. This time Fai did not disagree.
“I don’t see,” Fai said, amusement in his voice, “How my mental state has anything to do with you starting bar-room brawls, Kuro-chi.” Kurogane was picking up speed. He scoffed.
“I didn’t start it.”
“Uh huh,” Fai replied agreeably, earning him another pointed look from Kurogane. He offered a bright smile in return. Kurogane stopped walking and stared at him. In the dim street light all Fai could see was angry shadows and piercing red eyes. This, Fai thought, Is what I believe is called “a moment”, and wondered if he should be blushing or something. Except he wasn’t fifteen and didn’t think he had ever blushed at anything in his life that didn’t involve severe wind-chill factors or inordinately high alcohol percentages.
Kurogane’s face snapped to the side, red eyes focused and seeing something beyond the darkness that Fai could not. But he could feel it. Something living. Something dangerous. Silent movement that Kurogane’s eyes followed intently and Fai couldn’t help but chuckle. Kurogane’s Super Secret Ninja Technique: Ultimate Glare Of Doom!
“What’s so funny?” Kurogane demanded, usual irritation in his voice coating tension and caution. He started moving again, slowly at first, eyes still locked to the shadows.
“You don’t need a sword, Kuro-rin.” Fai was teasing again, his tone carefree and oddly suited to the situation. “All you need is those eyes and you’ll scare off any enemy.” Faster walking and a slight lessening of his grip on Fai. Kurogane’s frown deepened and Fai knew he’d hit a nerve somewhere.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kurogane mumbled. Moodily.
“It’s the glare,” Fai replied, always choosing his words carefully. Kurogane humphed and it sounded like approval. “I’ve been subjected to it enough, so I should know how scary it is,” Fai went on. A left turn, a right turn. Fai had no idea where they were. Hadn’t been paying attention and was surprised that he didn’t much care. “You do know where we’re going, right?” he asked anyway and Kurogane didn’t deign to answer. “Because if you don’t…”
And then Fai was wrenched into an alley, pitch black, air thick and heavy in the confined space and Kurogane pushed him against the wall and stood in front of him, looking back out into the light. Fai didn’t like it. He couldn’t see and the walls felt too close. He looked up, hoping to see the sky, but all he could see was walls and black and a dark shadow that was Kurogane. Fai took the arm he was still being held with, needing to hold onto something that wasn’t damp and cold and fell apart in his hand in what for him was nothingness. Kurogane stepped closer, which wasn’t really helping the claustrophobia threatening to grip Fai, but he appreciated the gesture anyway and just held that arm and heard figures running past out in that world of light.
Then Kurogane’s mouth was at his ear, whispering.
“I don’t start fights unless I have to,” as though that ended their earlier discussion.
“But did you have to prove your point by dragging me down this horrible alley?” Even if he couldn’t see Kurogane, Fai knew full well that Kurogane could see him, so he painted a mock-annoyed grin on his face that wasn’t really mock at all. Kurogane moved closer still.
“Are you scared?” There was amusement in his voice. Another challenge and Fai didn’t think this was very fair when he couldn’t even see Kurogane’s arm planted beside his head, or Kurogane’s eyes burning trails across his neck. But he could feel it. Fai raised his free hand to rest on Kurogane’s shoulder and pulled him a little closer.
“Why would I be scared,” he chided, “When I have a big strong Ninja like you to protect me.” Kurogane snorted a laugh and made to move back, but Fai wasn’t losing this round and he held Kurogane still and let the hand lying on the Ninja’s shoulder roam up his neck and across his face to his lips. Kurogane said nothing, and for a moment they just stood there in the darkness and the dampness and Fai felt Kurogane’s breath against his finger and Kurogane’s hand on his arm. What was he waiting for anyway? Wasn’t this about as much as he was going to get by way of invitation? He wished he could see Kurogane’s face. He imagined a scowl, more curious than angry and went with that image as his hand slid to Kurogane’s chin and he leaned forward to within inches of his face, eyes searching for eyes. Still shadow, but now that shadow was breathing harder than usual and Fai wondered if the Ninja knew he was doing that. It made him wonder what he looked like to Kurogane. Not a dark shapeless form. Not a dim shadow of reality. But Fai was grateful for the breath and the not-silence and pressed his lips to Kurogane’s.
Kurogane did nothing for a moment, not surprised or angry or anything, so Fai just ran his tongue along Kurogane’s lips, tasting bad liquor and feeling warm skin. His hand slid to the back of the Ninja’s neck and he felt drying blood and cold flesh and it just felt like Kurogane should. He was kissing him, then Kurogane was kissing him back, intense, serious, angry. Kurogane pressed Fai harder against the wall, his hands now running over his body in search of something that wasn’t rough, dark cloth. Lips together, hands and tongues struggling, and the world beyond that alley forgotten.
Fai kissed him. Kurogane let him.
Comments and concrit welcome. I am always looking to improve my new shiny pretentious writing style!