When Quinn the Eskimo gets here
I have no excuses for this other than boredom and not wanting to do my homework.
So. Brawlverse, Kira, Katou, Emma, mentions of Setsuna. Humor, probably in-between PG-13 and R, mostly for language and drugs. Crack. CRACK. And written in a hurry, so, um, don't get your hopes up too much. Alexiel/Kira, only... well, that'd give it away.
Even Katou could admit it wasn’t necessary to have three people cleaning one community bathroom. But it did make it a much less miserable job when there were other guys there to woe over yet another disgusting thing found in the trash can.
Or woe at, anyway. Setsuna would whine some (less than his emo music would’ve led Katou to believe, surprisingly), but Kira wasn’t one to bitch much in return. Privately Katou had always suspected Kira’s secretive-silent-mysterious-asshole exterior stemmed more from his drug intake than any actual mysteriousness. Setsuna, of course, was so clueless it was almost hilarious. His drugs of choice were usually beer, marijuana, and the ever-present cigarettes, but Kira would pretty much take anything Katou offered provided Katou happened to be taking it with him.
It was all in how the crap affected you. Once three weeks ago he’d slipped a heavy dose of LSD unawares into Kira’s morning coffee and Kira had mistaken the door going out of the dining hall for Alexiel.
It had been… a fucking riot, really. Kira ran his hands down that door like it was hair or something, mumbling “finally you’re mine, Alexiel,” while the mutant kids gathered around to stare in complete horror. For his part, Katou managed to keep the grin on his face to a bare minimum, until Kira’s mumbles started resembling a romance novel gone wrong.
“Alexiel…. oh, Alexiel…. it’s been so long, so many, many centuries… and yet you’re still so cold, so cruel…”
Katou’s snickers turned into out and out laughter. It was too bad Setsuna always skipped breakfast to put on his eyeliner perfectly-or whatever the hell he did for the twenty minutes before work started. He was missing a show. One that might’ve finally gotten him to stop worshipping the ground Kira walked on.
Possibly.
“But that doesn’t matter, does it? I’ve got you here, and now, and fore-”
Kira was kissing the door with more passion than a porn star. Katou was laughing so hard his breath was coming in short, ragged gasps.
“Kira! What the hell are you doing?”
Fuck, Katou cursed mentally, and tried to force his features into a stern expression. Or a horrified one. Or a “Looks Like Senpai Stole from My Stash Again, Obviously” one. He knew that voice all too well. Miss Hot Bitch herself, Emma Frost came marching down the hall, all in her usual white leather that left zilch to the imagination-practically the only time Katou could recall not being happy to see her.
From the heated glare she gave Katou as she strode past him towards the door, Katou figured she probably had used her psychic powers already and knew he was the culprit. On the off chance she hadn’t, though, Katou put on his best horrified expression.
“Kira-I think he’s delirious or something…”
“You think.” Emma’s tone was like absolute ice, and Katou swallowed hard.
“Maybe we ought to just let him, y’know.” Katou waved his hands. “Bang the door. You never know, it could help-”
Emma stared for half a second, blue eyes widening in shock, then disgust, and finally she just mouthed the words “danger room.”
Katou shut up.
“Alexiel.” Oblivious, Kira stroked the door again with his hands, sighing loudly. “You cruel, beautiful woman…”
Katou was pretty sure that given just one more minute before getting wrenched away from the door by a completely unamused Emma, Kira would’ve had hearts for eyes.
And definitely would’ve started humping the door.
So. Brawlverse, Kira, Katou, Emma, mentions of Setsuna. Humor, probably in-between PG-13 and R, mostly for language and drugs. Crack. CRACK. And written in a hurry, so, um, don't get your hopes up too much. Alexiel/Kira, only... well, that'd give it away.
Even Katou could admit it wasn’t necessary to have three people cleaning one community bathroom. But it did make it a much less miserable job when there were other guys there to woe over yet another disgusting thing found in the trash can.
Or woe at, anyway. Setsuna would whine some (less than his emo music would’ve led Katou to believe, surprisingly), but Kira wasn’t one to bitch much in return. Privately Katou had always suspected Kira’s secretive-silent-mysterious-asshole exterior stemmed more from his drug intake than any actual mysteriousness. Setsuna, of course, was so clueless it was almost hilarious. His drugs of choice were usually beer, marijuana, and the ever-present cigarettes, but Kira would pretty much take anything Katou offered provided Katou happened to be taking it with him.
It was all in how the crap affected you. Once three weeks ago he’d slipped a heavy dose of LSD unawares into Kira’s morning coffee and Kira had mistaken the door going out of the dining hall for Alexiel.
It had been… a fucking riot, really. Kira ran his hands down that door like it was hair or something, mumbling “finally you’re mine, Alexiel,” while the mutant kids gathered around to stare in complete horror. For his part, Katou managed to keep the grin on his face to a bare minimum, until Kira’s mumbles started resembling a romance novel gone wrong.
“Alexiel…. oh, Alexiel…. it’s been so long, so many, many centuries… and yet you’re still so cold, so cruel…”
Katou’s snickers turned into out and out laughter. It was too bad Setsuna always skipped breakfast to put on his eyeliner perfectly-or whatever the hell he did for the twenty minutes before work started. He was missing a show. One that might’ve finally gotten him to stop worshipping the ground Kira walked on.
Possibly.
“But that doesn’t matter, does it? I’ve got you here, and now, and fore-”
Kira was kissing the door with more passion than a porn star. Katou was laughing so hard his breath was coming in short, ragged gasps.
“Kira! What the hell are you doing?”
Fuck, Katou cursed mentally, and tried to force his features into a stern expression. Or a horrified one. Or a “Looks Like Senpai Stole from My Stash Again, Obviously” one. He knew that voice all too well. Miss Hot Bitch herself, Emma Frost came marching down the hall, all in her usual white leather that left zilch to the imagination-practically the only time Katou could recall not being happy to see her.
From the heated glare she gave Katou as she strode past him towards the door, Katou figured she probably had used her psychic powers already and knew he was the culprit. On the off chance she hadn’t, though, Katou put on his best horrified expression.
“Kira-I think he’s delirious or something…”
“You think.” Emma’s tone was like absolute ice, and Katou swallowed hard.
“Maybe we ought to just let him, y’know.” Katou waved his hands. “Bang the door. You never know, it could help-”
Emma stared for half a second, blue eyes widening in shock, then disgust, and finally she just mouthed the words “danger room.”
Katou shut up.
“Alexiel.” Oblivious, Kira stroked the door again with his hands, sighing loudly. “You cruel, beautiful woman…”
Katou was pretty sure that given just one more minute before getting wrenched away from the door by a completely unamused Emma, Kira would’ve had hearts for eyes.
And definitely would’ve started humping the door.