Anarchy! Everyone Wants to be Me

Keep Back What the Clouds Are Hiding [1/1]

2013-03-30T09:37:12Z

Title: Keep Back What the Clouds Are Hiding [1/1]
Author: Melly
Rating: PG-15
Characters/Pairings: Joshua/Neku
Spoilers: None, it’s an AU
Warnings: Language, talk of sexual situations, but nothing very explicit
Summary: High School AU. “No strings attached” isn’t easy when you keep tying them on yourself.
A/N: Whew, another part done! I keep finishing bits of these, and then life gets in the way, and I can’t seem to get it done in one go. Oh well. Chronologically, this is fourth in the series. Enjoy!

The student council office was empty, silent enough that the buzzing of the florescent lights sounded as loud as conversation, snippets of words that faded into nothingness when Neku listened more closely. He didn’t know what he was still doing leaning back on a desk in the vacant room, at least half an hour after Joshua had left for home. Absently reaching under his collar, he rubbed at the curve where his neck met his shoulder. A mark was likely there, and would undoubtedly worsen into dark purple and red later, but Neku wasn’t sure if he was trying to wipe away the lingering sensation of Joshua’s teeth against his skin, or press it firmly into his memory.

He’d been fixated from the start, from the very second Joshua glanced over in literature with a smile edged in suggestion, casual and coaxing all at once. Want to have some fun today? And every time since, he hadn’t refused a single invitation, hadn’t missed a chance to meet in some secluded spot for kissing and touches that escalated dizzyingly quick into disheveled clothes or somebody on their knees. It wasn’t often they had enough time or privacy for more, but very rarely Joshua used his influence to get the keys to some hidden corner of the school, and a locked door went a long way. It was on one such occasion that they fucked, really fucked for the first time, and he became absolutely lost in the heat and friction and the sounds Joshua had made. Like the one exhaled just before he came, a breathy moan so perfect Neku wished for a recording of it, just so it could filter through his headphones on loop all day.

But, even with the sex always leaving him hazy and sated, there was an emptiness that lingered in the center of his chest that made him stare at his ceiling some nights, and at the back of Joshua’s head in class. It reminded Neku of the chill left over when Joshua moved away after touching him casually, leaning over to peer at something in his sketchbook or their shoulders bumping when they walked together. He wondered if their hands fit as well as their bodies did.

Such plaguing thoughts finally propelled him out of the classroom and off campus, but weren’t enough for his feet to take him home. He wandered the city streets instead, headphones on and music cranked up loud enough to drown out the white noise of the crowds and the cars. By the time the playlist he had been listening to ended, he’d already looped back around to the mouth of Cat Street. Maybe, he thought, he should stop in for a cup of coffee. Not like he felt like being anywhere else at the moment.

The bell gave off a familiar, musical ring as he stepped inside WildKat, Hanekoma glancing over from where he was drying off espresso mugs when he heard it.

“J isn’t here, if you’re lookin’ for him,” he said, automatically. “Not with his concert tomorrow and all.”

“I know.” It applied to both statements, and Neku shuffled over to the bar, setting his bag down before perching on one of the stools. “I was just…in the neighborhood, I guess.”

“Right. The usual, then?”

“Yeah, sure.” Neku nodded, leaning his forearms on the counter, slouching slightly as he watched Hanekoma make his drink. The relative quiet of the café wasn’t uncomfortable, but it certainly felt weighty, something hanging in the air that left Neku both anticipatory and contemplative. Likely because Hanekoma had a knack for knowing the answers to questions Neku hadn’t been aware he even wanted to ask. He could certainly use a tip or two for untangling the mess his thoughts had become lately, he just wasn’t sure he’d like hearing about it.

“How’s your art been lately?” The casual inquiry was paired with a fresh mug of coffee, and Neku took his time in blowing a concentrated stream of air over the surface to stall for a response that wouldn’t be incriminating or suspicious. His drawings, while still comprised of abstract, stylized cityscapes and creatures, had taken on an additional focus recently. Small, soft sketches of Joshua had been appearing in the corners of his notes for school, which moved onto portions of his sketchbook, which moved onto entire pages dedicated to portraits of Joshua smiling or studying or fixing his hair. The pictures were disquieting, a compulsion, and Neku desperately wanted to keep them hidden. It wasn’t something fuck buddies did. He was sure of that much.

“It’s been going okay,” Neku said, finally, offering a slight shrug. “I haven’t really had time for much. School and stuff.”

“Sure, sure. I understand.” Hanekoma’s tone was deceptively unconcerned, and underlying thread of skepticism that had Neku worried, but the subject of conversation was changed before he could dwell on it much further. “You lookin’ forward to hearing Josh play?”

“Oh, yeah. It’ll be really cool.” He took a short sip of his drink, staring at one of the imperfections on the bar’s surface. “My friends are coming too. Shiki and Eri said they had to go get flowers, for whatever reason.”

“It’s tradition. Means good job and good luck next time,” Hanekoma explained. “You’re not getting him anything?”

“I wouldn’t know where to start.” Neku hunched his shoulders, tone turning a shade more sullen as he started picking at the skin around his fingernails. With flowers or anything else concerning Joshua, he was quickly realizing.

“You ever consider askin’ him?”

“You say that like I’d get a straight answer.” He snorted, disturbing the last, thin wisps of steam rising from his coffee.

“Y’got a point.” Chuckling, Hanekoma gave a wide, conceding sweep of his hand. “Doesn’t hurt to try, though.”

“Maybe.” Neku took another long sip of his drink, falling quiet. Stepping over a boundary, admitting affection beyond what was wanted could easily cause Joshua to pull away entirely. Neku’s chest tightened painfully at the very idea of the other keeping him at the same careful distance he maintained with everyone else. What was the point in risking anything, when it was going so well, when Joshua seemed perfectly content with the status quo? Neku could afford wait a little longer, if only to appease the scared, selfish part of him that wanted more close, heated moments, if that was all he thought he was going to get.

“Well, you got a better chance at wrangling info outta him than most.”

“What?” He blinked, finally glancing up from where he’d been staring fixedly into the depths of his coffee. “Seriously?”

“You’re great friends, aren’t ya?” Hanekoma tipped his head down, allowing his sunglasses to slide down the bridge of his nose enough that he could peer pointedly at Neku over the rims. “Practically attached at the hip, now.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” He hadn’t meant for any of the sullenness infecting his thoughts to creep over his tone, but the edge of it caught Hanekoma’s attention, enough that he paused in the midst of stashing the last of the espresso mugs into the cabinets.

“A lot, I would’ve thought.” Not for the first time since he came into WildKat that day, Neku scrambled to think up a diverting, nonchalant answer to a probing question he knew had to be coming. But much to his surprise, again, Hanekoma went on a different track. “Josh’s hard to deal with, I get it, but a little prying now and again is good for him. He might not act like he likes it, but he’ll get it means you care.”

“I guess.” Neku tipped his mug back and forth, watching the last dark dregs of his coffee float around at the bottom. How far was too far?

“Y’might think you’re pushing your luck—” The way the phrase was drawled, drawn out and weighted, erased the last doubts that Hanekoma knew, knew every underlying piece to the conversation Neku thought he had been getting away with. “—but give it a shot.”

“It’s…” He stopped himself, exhaling a slow breath through his teeth. “It’s not that easy.”

“If ya say so.” Hanekoma scrutinized him for just a beat longer before he rubbed the back of his neck, attention shifting elsewhere, and that was the end of it. Neku noted then that it had gotten a little late, and he had homework he’d been putting off to finally do, and Joshua to talk to if he was online later.

“I gotta go.” He fished out his wallet from his pocket before slipping off the barstool, setting enough yen on the counter to cover his coffee. “Thanks for the chat.”

“Sure, anytime. And, ah, before I forget, something I wanna tell you.” Neku had already hoisted his bag over his shoulder and was halfway towards the door, but he turned around on his heel at that, waiting for the other to continue. “Oriental lilies. In orange.”

It took Neku at least half a minute to grasp what Hanekoma was getting at, but when he finally did, he grinned in tacit gratitude, throwing a wave over his shoulder as he stepped back out onto the streets. Seemed he had one more errand to run before finally heading home.

*****

Backstage was always a mess. Nervous muttering and pacing and breathing exercises mixed in with teachers spouting last-minute advice and the technicians running every which way. Joshua could never find a quiet spot in any of it, and that, far more than public performance, made him antsy. Although, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something else adding to his restlessness. While he deeply cared for music, concerts were never that interesting to him, and at all the previous ones, he generally felt nothing but apathy. Perhaps it was finally being able to play his own song that lent a splash of novelty and anticipation.

Or, it could be Neku. He was out there in the audience somewhere, Joshua knew, but what difference did that really make? He’d never wilted under focused attention, so it wasn’t anxiety brought on simply by the other’s presence. It was puzzling, and not conducive thinking just before he had to go onstage, but luckily his teacher approached him before he could get any more preoccupied.

“All set? Hands warm?” When Joshua answered in the affirmative, his teacher nodded, looking over at the entrance to the stage. “You’re on in five minutes…or whenever Aiko finishes. She’s playing a little fast.”

“Nerves, likely.”

“Probably. Not like that’s a worry of yours. Cool and composed as ever.” His teacher patted his shoulder approvingly, and Joshua smiled just enough to be deemed polite. “Just make sure you don’t decide to change anything for your own song on the fly, all right? It’s fine as is.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Not like the audience would know if he decided to tweak it in the middle of his performance, but the fuss it would cause from others wasn’t worth disobeying.

“Good, good.” Appeased, his teacher pointed at one of the assistants standing in the wings, looking steadily more uneasy about Joshua not yet standing at the ready for any cue. “And looks like it’s about time. Best of luck out there.”

Pushing himself away from the prop he had been leaning against, Joshua gave a light wave in acknowledgment before heading over to the position for his entrance, just as the previous performer made a final acknowledgement to the crowd. He tuned out whatever the MC was saying for his introduction and waited until she swept her arm in a short arc and glanced towards his end of the stage, before stepping out into the bright glare of the lights and applause. After having done so many performances before, the pivot towards the audience for a bow once he got to his piano could be done without thought, and he took the brief window of time to scan the seats, spotting who he was looking for almost immediately, in the front section, stage right. He didn’t think Neku, or anyone else for that matter, noticed the corners of his mouth quirking up, but a heartbeat later he straightened and turned to settle down on the bench, lips pressed together to keep the secret.

The keys were cool despite the relentless heat of the stage lights, familiar, reassuring smoothness under his fingertips. He settled his hands in the right positions, letting the silence that lingered after the applause hang in the air for a moment or two longer before he began to play.

For Joshua, concerts were typically events to endure, and he relied solely on talent to get through them with the bare amount of focus necessary for success. With Neku in the audience, though, something had shifted, and Joshua found himself attuned to his movements and the music itself, keeping his ear trained on the tempo and dynamics. It was no different than those lulls in the afternoon when they didn’t feel like going anywhere and Neku would turn to him and say, Hey. Play something for me, all feigned casualness broken by how his gaze sharpened with interest. Joshua obliged, most of the time, always satisfied when he managed to get just the slightest flicker of admiration across the other’s face. He didn’t know when that had become a reward, something he tried to obtain every time Neku was around to listen, but it was already too entrenched, practically a reflex, for the origin to matter.

In the midst of his original composition, he had a momentary, fleeting urge to turn his head and steal a glance into the crowd, just to see what Neku’s reaction was to it, to something that was not just a song, but a song that represented Joshua, his thoughts and sentiments in imprinted in every line. Although, that would have to wait until afterwards, when he had more time to pick out the subtleties he had grown so used to spotting in Neku’s expression. The stray whim was ignored, and Joshua continued to the end fluidly, the rhythmic press and lift of his fingers on the keys practically effortless.

At the finish, his fingers may have lingered in their final positions a fraction too long, trying to draw out the last ringing chord, but it was soon drowned out in applause, so Joshua didn’t think his teacher would find fault. He stood, moving to the front of the piano, taking one short bow followed by another when the volume of the audience increased as he attempted to make an exit. Eventually, he managed to slip backstage, into further praise by fellow musicians and one of the assistants, who offered a water bottle to help cool him off after being under the lights. There was one more performance following his to sit through, and Joshua was a little appreciative of the break. Post-concert tended to be exhaustingly hectic, and he wondered if he’d even get a spare moment to speak to Neku properly.

It didn’t seem very likely when everything finally wrapped up and he was ushered out into the lobby with the rest of the crowd. Finding anyone in the mess was difficult enough without people stopping him for congratulations or to hand over a bouquet. After a short while, he decided it might be a better venture to go search for a place to drop off all the flowers, but the sound of someone calling his name distracted him from that task. The voice wasn’t Neku’s, as it was too light and feminine, but it did belong to one of his friends, Eri, followed by Shiki and Beat.

“Joshua, hi!” She waved once she was in comfortable speaking distance. “You were really great up there. Seriously, wow, I see what all the talk is about.”

“These are for you.” Shiki managed to squeeze in next to her companion, posture faintly diffident as she handed Joshua a bunch of orchids. “You play really well.”

“It was nice of you to come. Thank you.” He smiled, enough that it seemed to ease her shyness, before going on to ask, “is Neku with you?”

“He was. Where in the world did he go?” Surprised, Eri turned around to address Beat, who seemed far more concerned with whatever he had grabbed from the refreshment table, and only offered a wide shrug. “He was right behind us!”

“Maybe he got lost in the crowd,” Shiki mused, trying to look over the heads of the people around them. “Funny, he had a gift for you too, Joshua.”

“Well, whatever.” Rolling her eyes, Eri checked something on her phone quickly, before facing Joshua again. “You’re probably swamped right now, but whenever you see him, can you send him our way?”

“Not a problem.”

“Awesome. Thanks a bunch.” Assured by that, Eri began making her way through the crowd again. “We’ll see you later!”

Shiki and Beat weren’t far behind with their goodbyes, and once they were out of sight, Joshua headed in another direction, pondering the locations Neku could be if it was not with his other friends. Eventually, he reached one of the outer edges of the lobby, spotting his mother and Hanekoma standing a short distance away. He had barely taken a step towards them when his godfather tipped his head meaningfully towards the corridor that led out to the back of the performance hall.

Easily taking the hint, he over to it, pausing only to surreptitiously place the flowers he was carrying down by Hanekoma’s feet. Joshua’s mother, deep in conversation with another parent, thankfully didn’t notice him at all, and he strode down the hall and out the door into the cool nighttime air without further interruption. Sure enough, Neku was there, leaning back against the wall a few feet away, heel tapping out a rhythm against the brick behind him.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were avoiding me.”

“Wha—Josh?” He jumped, startled, nearly tipping himself forward onto the concrete. “No, just kinda suffocating inside. How did you know I was out here?”

“Sanae pointed me in the right direction.” Joshua made a dismissive gesture, moving to join Neku and rest his shoulder against the wall. The other’s tie was already pulled undone, but he had kept his hair down and unspiked, the strands soft without gel. “You look nice.”

“Shiki and Eri said I should dress up.” In the dim light from the single streetlamp above them, Joshua wasn’t sure Neku was blushing, but he had a good hunch. “I’m not used to it.”

“I can tell.” He gestured to his own neck, to draw attention to the state of the other’s tie. “I ran into your friends, earlier. They said you had a gift for me.”

“Oh. Yeah, I do.” Neku bit his lip, looking like he was going to tack on something else, but instead, only held out a bouquet of oriental lilies, in orange and white and wrapped with silver tissue paper. “Here. You were…really, really good up there.”

“Thank you.” Joshua took the flowers, smile brief but wide and genuine, before running his index finger along one of the petals thoughtfully. That praise, coming from Neku, could be categorized as glowing. “These are my favorites. How did you know?”

“I asked around.”

“Ah.” There was obviously more of a story to be had, but details could be uncovered later. There were more important things Joshua wanted to know. “So what did you think? About my composition, I mean.”

“That was the last one you played, right?” Neku frowned, craning his head up to stare at the few stars that could be seen through the hazy, bright film of the city. “I don’t know about any of the technical stuff, but I liked it.”

“You did?”

“Yeah.” He turned his attention back to Joshua, brows furrowed slightly. “Was there some meaning behind it or something?”

“Not really.” Not until he had gotten onstage and wanted Neku to listen, wanted it to make an impact, a mark, something as lasting and possessive as a love bite. A song that would stick, get lodged in the other’s mind as he went about his day, until he was humming it to himself and thinking of Joshua along with the notes. “Beyond wanting to be heard, that is.”

Neku nodded, slowly, like he was still digesting the words, before turning his body so he was facing Joshua, cautiously extending one hand. He touched his palm to a spot just below Joshua’s ribs, sliding it up over his chest, thumb running over the golden silk of the tie. Gripping part of the suit jacket, Neku tugged Joshua forward until they were nearly pressed flush together, and Joshua found his lips parting unconsciously in anticipation.

“Hey, uh. I know we don’t have a lot of time, but…” His words dropped off into nothingness as he pressed a kiss to Joshua’s mouth, slow and deep and full of promises they couldn’t keep right then with other people waiting for them. But Joshua curled his free hand against the back of the other’s neck to keep him close, fingers curling into the strands of hair there, texture surprisingly smooth without all the product in it. And he almost suggested they forget all obligations, head out into the city together, because doing ridiculous, silly things with Neku was a high comparative to how he felt before about finally enjoying himself on stage.

“Your friends are looking for you,” was what he said instead when they did finally break for air, distance between them so slight he could see the reflection of the single faint lamp in Neku’s eyes.

“I—yeah.” He swallowed, hand dropping from Joshua’s jacket lapel. “Yeah, you’ve probably got somewhere to go too, right?”

“Coffee and dessert with mother and Sanae, yes.” Joshua took a small step back, reaching up to smooth down his clothing. “We can always continue this at school.”

“Sure.” Neku looked anything but for a moment, but he managed a smile after another second. “Play me that song you wrote again, too.”

“A please would be nice.” Joshua sighed, mockingly longsuffering. “Especially for a musician of my caliber. But all right.”

“Show off,” Neku tossed back at him, nudging Joshua’s shoulder with his own, and started shuffling towards the lobby access. “Talk to you later, Josh.”

Joshua only managed to get out a short affirmative before the other slipped back inside, the door shutting behind him with a decisive thud.

The arrangement was meant to be an outlet with no risk, and Joshua felt downright stupid about the impulses cropping up that deviated from it. They were just friends, it was just fucking, but if he was even an ounce honest with himself, he knew Neku had never been just anything. Which was an issue on top of an increasingly growing pile of problems about something that was supposed to be uncomplicated. But it didn’t have to be dealt with that night, and besides, the shell of normalcy was preferable to whatever tangled mess he’d made for himself.

The sound of a car horn in the nearby parking lot jolted Joshua out of his thoughts, and he realized he’d lingered outside for a little too long. He quickly returned to the lobby, noticing a good chunk of the crowd had dissipated. As expected, his mother scolded him for running off when they finally met up, but a short apology was sufficient to drop the subject.

“You’re not forgetting anything backstage?” She reached up to brush his hair away in order to kiss his forehead, pulling back when Joshua shook his head.

“I grabbed my phone and things after I was done playing.”

“All right.” His mother’s hand fell to his shoulder, gently steering him towards the exit. “Darling, don’t you want Sanae to take the flowers you’re holding? He’s got all your other ones.”

“No, it’s fine.” He dropped his gaze to the lilies, pointedly ignoring the knowing look he was sure Hanekoma was shooting him. “I’d rather hold onto these.”

A/N: It's not really mentioned explicitly, but if you want some mood-music, the songs Joshua plays before his own are Chopin’s Nocturne No. 9 Op. 1 in B flat minor and Schubert’s Piano Sonata in C minor, Third Movement. The title comes from “The Carpal Tunnel of Love” by Fall Out Boy.

Sales Post

2013-03-22T00:20:54Z

Hi everyone! I've found myself in need of cash so I'm selling a bunch of doujin. Please come take a look!

How it Works
1. In a comment, please give me the number of the item you want, and your zip code. I ship from the USA, and at this time, I do not take holds.
2. I will give you the total price+shipping, so you can look it over and make sure. I do not ship internationally, sorry for the inconvenience
3. If the pricing looks okay, I'll then PM you my PayPal information. Once you have sent the payment, please respond to that PM with "payment sent!" and the address you want the doujin sent to.
4. I will send your doujin out no later than 3 days after I get confirmation of payment and your address.

Doujin I'm selling are below the cut.

01
Title: Oui Oui
Pairing: France/Canada
Rating:R-18
Circle: Multiple, including B*MPOC, Chrona, and Empty
Pages: 188
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02
Title: Unknown
Pairing: France/Fem!Canada
Rating:R-18
Circle: Multiple, including B*MPOC, Empty, Baby Green, and Hot and Cold
Pages: 167, 4 of those are color illustrations, 55 are novel.
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03
Title: Unknown
Pairing: France/America
Rating: R-18
Circle: Kaburaza
Pages: 30
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04
Title: Egoistic Rendezvous
Pairing: France/America
Rating: PG
Circle: Hobby Hobby
Pages: 30
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Title: (You don't have to fear) This Love!
Pairing: America/England, France/Canada
Circle: B*MPOC
Rating: G
Pages: 32
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Title: Unknown
Pairing: France/Canada
Circle: B*MPOC
Rating:R-18
Pages: 25
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Title: Free and Freedom
Pairing: France/America
Circle: Clanpore
Rating: R-18
Pages: 56
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08
Title: Unknown
Pairing France/Canada (World Academy AU)
Circle: Amayirodim
Rating: PG-16? There's sex and nudity but nothing very explicit
Pages: 50
Price: 15$SOLD

09
Title: Je Te Veux
Pairing: France/Canada
Circle: B*MPOC and Empty
Rating: R-18
Pages: 22
Price: 10$

If you want to see sample pages of anything, just ask! I cannot guarantee the picture quality, since I only have my itouch to work with. Any other questions, please ask!

The Songs You Grow to Like [1/1]

2013-02-16T10:29:08Z

Title: The Songs You Grow to Like [1/1]
Author: Melly
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Really super vague Joshua/Neku. More like just the stirrings of it.
Spoilers: None, this is an AU
Warnings: Language is all, really. Pretty tame.
Summary: High School AU. If Neku had just gone home that afternoon, things would have turned out a lot differently.
A/N: FoB came off hiatus, I figured it was a cosmic sign I should write more of Bang the Doldrums series. And I’m writing these out of order again. But this has a little something that needs to be established before anything else moves forward, so, there you go. Chronologically, this is first in the series, and happens about seven months before the previous installment. Enjoy!

It was fair, Neku thought, to assume that nothing would go wrong during one of the rare instances when he had made actual, genuine plans to hang out with his friends instead of go along with whatever Shiki and Eri wanted to do. But it was apparently too much to ask from whatever sadistic entity governed these things, and everything had fallen through by lunchtime. Beat had to pick up his sister after school, the president for one of Eri’s clubs was sick so she had to take over, and Shiki was dragged off for a group project, so Neku was left to pace around the halls alone at the end of the day. It was too cold to aimlessly wander around the city seeking out new graffiti tags, and heading home at this point struck him as admitting defeat. He still had his sketchbook for entertainment, after all.

It struck him, as he pushed through the door that led to the music and art wings, that he had plenty of empty, quiet spaces to utilize. The idea of extensive, interruption-free drawing time was a tempting one, and soon, he was moving down the hallway with purpose. After a few strides, he realized the art rooms were likely occupied, since they were big spaces good for club meetings. The music rooms, on the other hand, were mostly smaller and soundproof besides. Perfect.

Or it would have been, if most of the doors Neku tried weren’t locked. He jiggled one of the knobs forcefully in frustration before huffing and stepping back. They probably kept everything shut tight to prevent anyone from stealing or ruining the instruments, now that he thought about it, but it still jammed a wrench into his new agenda. He was partway through the motion of turning on his heel to head in the other direction, wondering if maybe he really should give up and trudge back home, when the faint strains of a song reached him. Neku cocked his head to the side, seeking out the source of the piano notes, before he finally noticed that the door at the very end of the corridor was propped open. With his curiosity piqued, he wandered over, the music growing louder as he grew closer, until he was able to see inside the room.

He was startled to see that he recognized was seated at the piano, albeit only vaguely. Joshua Kiryu was situated a few desks behind Neku in history and literature, but even without the shared class, it would be hard to forget someone with features as striking and uncommon as his. Beyond his appearance, though, all Neku knew about him was he was on student council. And played piano, apparently. The song was one Neku thought seemed very familiar, in a way he couldn’t quite bring forth to the front of his mind, like something he’d heard in passing years and years ago. He simply leaned his shoulder against the doorframe and focused on the music, begrudgingly admitting to himself that Joshua was obviously quite talented. It was becoming a little hypnotizing to watch his fingers dance along the keys effortlessly, to observe the actual movements of shifting to a new song, one with a slightly slower tempo.

“You can take a seat, you know.” The other glanced up, briefly, continuing to play even as he spoke. “If you want to keep listening.”

“I. Um.” Neku felt the tips of his ears heat up in sheepishness at being caught. “I just was looking for someplace quiet to draw and I heard—”

“It’s fine. I’m mostly messing around anyway.”

“Oh.” He paused, not sure what to make of that kind of playing being categorized as goofing off, but eventually asked, “what song is it?”

“A few things from Swan Lake.” Joshua shrugged, hands coming to a rest. “I heard the orchestra practicing earlier, so it was stuck in my head.”

“And you just…” Neku gestured vaguely to the piano, a little baffled. He didn’t see any sheet music anywhere.

“I can play by ear.” Joshua tapped his index finger to his lobe. “A rare talent to be sure, but useful.”

“So you were just showing off.”

“No. How could I be showing off if I didn’t expect to play for an audience?” He crossed his ankles, an infuriatingly smug smile pulling at the corners of his lips. “In case you’ve forgotten, you were the one who intruded on my practice.”

“Okay, right. Guess I’ll just go, then.” Neku pushed himself away from the doorframe, but before he took a single step out into the hall, Joshua started laughing, light and mockingly.

“Now, now, don’t get touchy. I’m just stating fact.” The other tipped his head to the side, thoughtfully, gaze appraising. “You’re Neku, right? Neku Sakuraba?”

“Yeah?” He frowned, eyebrows furrowing. “How’d you know?”

“You sit in front of me, caddy-corner, in history and lit. I hear your name called for roll all the time.” Joshua heaved a sigh, feigning disappointment. “I suppose I just pay attention. Unlike some people.”

“Hey! I know who you are.” He really had to wonder, amongst all the rumors floating around, why he hadn’t heard anything about what a haughty asshole Joshua was.

“Do you really?” Neku was about to protest, even try to slip in a quip about calling him Yoshiya if they were going off attendance, but the tone of the question made him hesitate. It wasn’t rhetorical. Not exactly. There was a searching edge to it that made him think Joshua wanted a different answer than just verification that Neku knew his name. But after another few seconds, he glanced away, topic shifting as he moved. “It’s funny seeing you around here this late. You’re not in any clubs.”

“How did you know that?”

“We have the rosters in student council.” He gestured, dismissively. “So, why are you here? Waiting for someone? Had detention, maybe?”

“No, just…killing time.” Neku shrugged one shoulder, dismissively. “I had plans, but they kinda fell apart at the last minute.”

“So you’re bored?” Joshua slipped off the piano bench, closing the lid to the instrument. “Me too. Let’s go somewhere.”

“What?” Just like that?

“It’s not like you have anything better to do, right?” He tossed Neku a look over his shoulder as he picked up a bag set in one of the cubbies under the window. “You just said so.”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“Don’t worry. Your virtue and stellar social reputation will remain safe, even if you spend some time with me.” Joshua stepped past him into the hall, sarcasm dripping from his words so thickly, Neku thought he could taste it. He glowered at the quip, but received only a slight, self-satisfied smile in return. “Let’s go. Do you like bubble tea?”

“It’s okay, I guess.” Against all better judgment and instincts, Neku found himself following after the other, falling into step beside him. Boredom must have reached the point of insanity. “I don’t like the super sweet kind.”

“The new place near Towa is supposed to have every flavor you could ever want.” Joshua pushed open the door that led out into the quad, reaching into his bag to pull out a deep orange scarf the second an influx of stinging cold air hit them. “Or so the gossip says. I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

“Sure.” Neku shoved his hands into his pockets, giving Joshua a curious, indirect glance. “…you’re not what I expected.”

“Oh? And what did you imagine me to be like?”

“I dunno…more formal. I mean, you’re stuck-up, but you don’t act like you have a stick up your ass.” He caught a brief snippet of high, lilting laughter that could almost be classified as a giggle before the other muffled it, ducking his head into the bright fabric wrapped around his neck. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.” Joshua shook his head, voice still tinged with amusement. “You’re just not what I really expected, either.”

“Right.” Huffing, Neku glanced off to the other side of the street, a little surprised someone like Joshua had bothered to form any sort of opinion about him in the first place. Didn’t he have better things to do? “What did you think about me, anyway?”

“You seemed like the typical brooding antisocial type.” He raised one shoulder in an absent shrug. “I thought you’d have been going on about what a conformist I am by now.”

“What, seriously?” Neku scrunched his nose up, disbelieving. “Should I be insulted?”

“I don’t know. You asked me a question and I answered it,” Joshua pointed out. “You don’t really give off a friendly, approachable aura, you know.”

“You don’t either.”

“You care about my opinion enough to be arguing this point?” He had slowed to a stop in front of a simple glass paned door, one eyebrow quirked as he looked back to Neku.

“No, I mean—that’s—whatever.” The steadily growing blush he felt creeping up was a telltale sign anything he said in defense would just make things worse. “Let’s go inside.”

“All right.” Those two words, normally so innocuous, made Neku’s hands curl into fists from the snide, smug cadence in other’s tone, the barely concealed taunt of I won. Shockingly, he managed to follow Joshua inside without doing anything that could land him assault charges.

The place was typical, trendy, with multi-colored chairs and bubblegum pop playing dimly from speakers somewhere amongst the weird, oddly molded lamps hanging from the ceiling. Whoever remarked on the selection wasn’t kidding, and Neku saw things on the menu board that he never even knew you could flavor tea with, but considering he was never one to be adventurous with food, stuck with simple, inoffensive sesame. They settled down at a table near the back, removed from the bulk of the noise and chatter.

“I thought you would have gone with something weirder than peach,” Neku remarked, gesturing to Joshua’s drink.

“Well, hasn’t today been a lesson in making assumptions?” He took a sip of his tea, making a quiet noise of approval before continuing. “I’m actually quite picky, if you must know.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.” Rolling his eyes, Neku tentatively tried a bit of his own drink, a little surprised when he could actually taste the black tea underneath the sweetness of the milk and sesame. Huh, not bad.

“So if you’re not writing tortured, dark poetry, what is it you do with your spare time?”

“What?” He glanced up, wondering if Joshua’s inquisitive expression was feigned or not. “Uh. Draw, listen to music, play video games…stuff like that.”

“Considering how much time you spend with your nose in that sketchbook, I’m not surprised.” Joshua smirked around his straw. “Do you even take notes in class?”

“Yes.” Neku shot a glare across the table, but when the other remained completely undaunted, he deflated slightly. “Sometimes.”

“Mm, I thought as much.” He rested his cheek on the back of his hand, eyes shifting over to the window. “Not that I can really blame you. It’s all so tedious.”

“…that’s weird coming from you.” As far as Neku knew, Joshua scored in the top ten on a regular basis.

“Just because I do well at something doesn’t mean I find it interesting.” Neku watched the other’s gaze follow the paths of people walking by outside. “It’s expected of me, is all. Otherwise, I’d only care about the subjects I enjoy.”

“I get that, yeah.”

“It’s difficult not viewing it as a waste of my time.” Joshua shrugged, widely, turning back around to take a long sip of his tea and absently chew on a tapioca ball.

“That’s called being a selfish brat,” Neku retorted, but yet again, any attempt at a comeback only seemed to make Joshua more amused.

“I don’t hear you disagreeing.” He folded both arms on the tabletop, stare pinning Neku to his chair as easily as the truth of his words did. The whole conversation was grating to the point of teeth grinding and headaches, yet Neku wasn’t walking away, wasn’t saying fuck you to Joshua and storming out the door. Because, despite how frustrating, how impossible it was, Neku hadn’t ever had a conversation flow so easily upon first meeting someone. The banter was natural, engaging, an effortless back and forth. Joshua was a little like a puzzle box, a hint of something fascinating underneath all the panels and hidden switches. Or maybe Neku was simply too stubborn to keep letting someone always get the last word in.

“So? Doesn’t mean what I said isn’t true.”

“Then you’re just as much of a brat as me.” Joshua tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear, Neku watching the gesture with narrowed eyes. “Although…isn’t there a adage about thieves keeping each other company?”

“Is that your way of saying you like hanging out with me?” He quirked an eyebrow, expression turning more incredulous as Joshua laughed again, the cadence lighter this time, and without mockery.

“Maybe.” He drew the word out, teasing, and it hit Neku, sharp and startling like missing a step when walking down stairs, that Joshua was impressed with him. “I haven’t made up some excuse to leave yet, have I?”

“No. Guess not.” Neku lowered his head, sucking up a mouthful of tea and tapioca to cover the slow spread of a smile. He wasn’t quite sure where it came from, some strange variation of pride or that he was genuinely having fun.

Either way, a small victory was still a victory.

****

“So I heard a funny rumor about you.”

“Me?” Neku barely spared any attention away from his history notes, desperately tying to cram another date into his memory. “You sure about that, Eri?”

“Yep.” She perched on the edge of Shiki’s desk, folding her arms as she looked Neku over, critically. “People are saying you’ve been hanging around Joshua Kiryu.”

“Yeah, so?”

“So, you of all people suddenly becomes buddy-buddy with him. That’s weird, right?” Neku didn’t answer, steadfastly trying to ignore the conversation in favor of frantic studying. “Right?”

“I wouldn’t say weird,” Shiki chimed in, setting her flashcards aside. “But Joshua doesn’t seem like the kind of person you’d make friends with, Neku.”

“We actually have a lot in common.” Rolling his eyes, he turned a page in his notebook, a little dismayed to see the paper was filled three quarters of the way with doodles of the cityscape instead of a timeline. “As shocking as that might be.”

“Well, it’s probably not entirely you.” Eri examined her nails, frowning when she found some imperfection in the polish.

“What d’you mean?”

“I mean, Joshua’s kinda…how do I put this?” She let out a long exhale, repetitively turning her wrist so her hand moved in a circle, as if to summon the right phrasing out of thin air. “He was my partner for chem lab last semester. He knew what he was doing and wasn’t mean or anything, but I always got the impression that he was just being polite to me.”

“He treats everyone like that, I think.” Shiki adjusted her glasses, thoughtfully, while Eri nodded along in commiseration. “Holding people at arms length all the time. It’s why there’s so much talk. No one gets what you did differently.”

“I don’t really get it either,” Neku muttered, looking back and forth between the two girls, eyebrows furrowing with steadily increasing puzzlement. “We were just bored one day and decided to hang, and then things went from there.”

“Huh. So it was dumb luck?” Eri seemed just as perplexed, but the insistant ringing of the bell, signaling the end of the free period, stopped any further gossip and speculation in its tracks. “Whoops. We better get going.”

“Right.” Shiki packed up her things, smiling as she slid out of her seat and moved to Eri’s side. “See you later, Neku. Good luck on your test.”

“Yeah, thanks. I’ll need it.” He waved, absently, slouching in his seat once they had left. Really going to need it.

“You’re not going to die, you know.” His head shot up, startled, realizing he must have been exceedingly preoccupied with his private dread if he hadn’t noticed Joshua filing in with the rest of the students. “Just one little test.”

“Easy for you to say.” Sullen, Neku glared half-heartedly at the other, watching him sit at his desk and throw a casual arm across the back of his chair.

“I’ll lend you my notes next time, if you’re so worried,” Joshua said, waving his hand dismissively. “But, listen, are you free after school? I want to go somewhere.”

“Uh, sure.” He closed his notebook once the teacher walked in, eyeing the papers she held with apprehension. “Don’t you have student council stuff to do, though?”

“They won’t miss me today.” There was a brief flash of a smile as Joshua turned back around in his seat, and Neku felt a tiny tendril of curiosity creep up, wondering what he had agreed to, but that was smothered the second class started, when he had thirty exam questions to occupy his thoughts instead.

Eventually, once he had survived that and the following two classes, Neku found Joshua waiting at his locker, phone in hand and nonchalant, one shoulder supporting his weight against the metal. Maybe it was the conversation from earlier, but Neku was picking up on a few prying stares from their classmates as he drew closer. Was it seriously that difficult to believe?

“Hey.”

“Oh, hello.” Joshua took a short step back when Neku approached, no longer blocking the locker door. “So, do you like coffee?”

“Yeah. Sure.” He stuffed a few unneeded textbooks onto the shelves once he got the lock undone, relieving some weight from his bag. “Why? Are we going to a café?”

“Mm-hmm.” Joshua waited for Neku to slip on his jacket and headphones before starting down the hallway. “Oh, and on our way out, tell me if you see any of the other council members. I’m not the mood and don’t have the energy to come up with an excuse for them right now.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll help you play hooky.” It had to be what Shiki and Eri were talking about that made him feel stupidly pleased at the fact Joshua was skipping out on duties for him. When had he ever cared about that kind of thing before?

Luckily, they weren’t detained during their escape from campus, and fell into easy small talk after a block or two, which eventually devolved into mutual complaining. Joshua was surprisingly easy to vent to, likely because whether the snide comments he slipped in were directed at the object of Neku’s ire, or at Neku himself, they were always a good distraction.

“You know, I rather envy you for not being involved in anything like that,” Joshua mentioned, shifting the topic over from Neku grumbling about how he wouldn’t join art club because they never varied mediums or topics enough to be interesting. “It’s takes up far too much of your time.”

“Hey, if you hate student council so much, why don’t you quit?” That had been bothering him for a while, why the other ran for the position in the first place if it was so obvious he didn’t want to be a part of it.

“It’s not so simple.” Something in Joshua’s expression soured, subtly, a slight tightening in the set of his jaw, gaze cast to the side. “My parents want me to be in it. I need to uphold a certain standard, apparently.”

“A standard?”

“Never mind.” He gave a quick shake of his head, hair swinging in front of his face with the movement. Pausing, he brushed it out of the way with a distracted sweep of his hand before sidestepping around Neku to head towards one of the shops lining the street, a sign reading WildKat hanging above its entrance. “Anyway, here we are.”

Still preoccupied with trying to unravel what Joshua had meant, Neku trailed after the other into the café wordlessly, distantly noting the sound of a bell chiming as the door swung inwards.

“Well, well, look who finally decided to pay me a visit.”

“I’ve been busy. And there’s no rule against you coming to see me.” Joshua made a beeline for the bar, resting his elbows on it in order to address the man working behind the counter more easily. Baffled by the familiarity, Neku wandered over, choosing to stand self-consciously next to one of the stools, unsure if he should sit down if Joshua wasn’t. “By the way, this is Neku, a friend from school. Neku, this is Sanae Hanekoma, my godfather.”

“Uh. Nice to meet you.” Neku fiddled with the strap of his bag, thinking the distance over the counter was a little too large for a comfortable handshake.

“Same here.” Even behind the dark lens of Hanekoma’s sunglasses—who the hell wore those indoors, anyway?—Neku got the distinct impression he was being scrutinized, instantly evaluated from head to toe. “So, what’ll it be?”

“I’ll have my usual,” Joshua said, airily, tapping the fingers of one hand against the wood of the bar in an ordered, repeating rhythm, as if on piano keys.

“Just regular coffee and cream for me.” Neku watched him, trying to piece together what song it might be, what melody was playing in the other’s head, but ultimately failing.

“Y’know, it’s rare Josh brings other people by,” Hanekoma mentioned as he started making their drinks. “Blink twice if you’re here against your will.”

“That’s not funny.” Joshua rolled his eyes. “It’s actually a little insulting you think I’d resort to blackmail.”

“Maybe not blackmail, but you could’ve promised to write an essay for him or somethin’.”

“History notes,” Neku interjected, grinning when Hanekoma stated laughing and Joshua all but glowered at him. “What? It’s true.”

“You’re not helping.” He sighed, petulant and sulking now that he failed to get back the upper hand, until a pale blue mug was placed in front of him, caramel swirled on top of the foam. Hanekoma slid a similar mug, in pine green, over to Neku, steam rising up from the coffee’s surface in gentle curls. Picking up his drink, Joshua stepped away from the bar, motioning for Neku to follow him as he moved towards a door at the rear of the café. “We’ll be in the back room.”

“Sure thing, J. Don’t break anything.” Hanekoma waved them off, smile equal parts enigmatic and pleased as he watched them leave the main part of the cafe, before turning back to tinkering with the espresso machine.

The room Joshua had led Neku to was small, barely leaving enough distance between the furniture to maneuver around comfortably. But despite the limited space, it felt cozy rather than cramped, the chairs scattered about plush and inviting. Neku placed his cup on the low table in the middle so it wouldn’t spill, and slipped his bag off his shoulder, flopping back onto a seat with a heavy sigh.

“This is pretty cool.”

“Good you think so.” Joshua had pulled out his phone, index finger sweeping down the touch screen as he scrolled along with whatever he was reading. “This used to be a storage closet. When I was younger and came to the café, I’d hide out here, and eventually Sanae decided to make it comfortable if he wasn’t going to use it for anything else.”

“So…this is your secret clubhouse or something?” Neku reached out for his mug, blowing lightly over the surface before having a cursory taste. When it didn’t burn his tongue and wasn’t overly bitter, he had another.

“If you want to make a ‘no girls allowed’ sign and stick it on the door, I’m not going to stop you.” Joshua’s eyes flicked up, meeting Neku’s gaze for just a second, the corner of his mouth curled up in a smirk. “Could build a pillow fort while you’re at it.”

“Not enough blankets or cushions.” Snorting derisively, he put his feet up on the table, ignoring the other’s subsequent frown. “So your godfather’s…interesting.”

“Oh, yes. He’s certainly that.” Joshua finally set his phone aside in order to pick up his drink, both hands wrapping around the mug. “You’d get along with him, though. He’s an artist like you.”

“Seriously?”

“Completely.” He nodded, taking a long sip of coffee, lips lingering on the rim of the cup. “Some of his works are out in the main part of the café. Sanae likes to keep a low profile, for whatever reason, but he’s very good.”

“Huh.” Neku tipped his head back, staring at the ceiling while his thoughts flickered from that newest tidbit, to how being allowed in the back room felt incredibly personal, to what Hanekoma said about Joshua never bringing anyone else by, to the incredulous looks from all their classmates. “Hey, Josh?”

“Mm?”

“Did you know people are talking about us? Like, how it’s funny we’re friends.” He tried to flatten his tone into something casual, indifferent, but it came out edged in anxiousness. “It’s not that weird, is it?”

“I’ve heard a little here and there,” Joshua replied, looking contemplatively into his mug. “And it’s…well. I haven’t really spent time around someone like I have with you.”

“Yeah, I—uh, there was something about that, too.” It was stupid, he reminded himself, completely and utterly ridiculous that he was this concerned over the reasoning behind their friendship. But the words came out before he could rein them in entirely. “Everyone’s wondering what I did different, I guess. I didn’t know what to tell them.”

“You didn’t do anything.” Resting his drink on the table to free his hands, Joshua curled the fingers of one tightly into the tips of his hair, head minutely tipped down towards the floor. Something about the gesture, subtle and understated as it was, made a heavy, sour, disconcerted feeling settle in Neku’s chest, something about the brief instance of vulnerability flickering across the other’s features. But before he could act on it, Joshua continued speaking. “That’s the point. With everyone else it’s…they don’t want to get to know me. Not really. They have some ideal in mind before they even speak to me, and I don’t want to deal with that. You, though, obviously didn’t have an agenda concerning me. So I gave you a chance.”

“…are you glad you did?” Neku wished he could grab the all hesitance and insecurity right out of his tone, but he could no longer maintain it was a mutual way alleviate boredom, and the loss would be more than entertainment value.

“I let you into my super secret hideout,” Joshua teased, giggling when he pushed his foot firmly against Neku’s calves to knock his legs off the table. All worry evaporated before his shoes even hit the floor. “So what do you think?”

“I think you need to skip out on clubs more often.”

“I will. If you take the blame for my delinquency.” A small price to pay for more of this, for more talks over coffee in warm, private rooms. For more of Joshua.

“Deal.”

A/N: The title comes from the song “Dead on Arrival” by Fall Out Boy. The music Joshua is playing is from here.

Found Out In-Between Sheets

2013-01-07T02:39:44Z

Title: Found Out In-Between Sheets [1/1]
Author: Melly
Rating: MA/NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Joshua/Neku
Spoilers: None, it’s an AU
Warnings: Language, sexual situations
Summary: High School AU. Neku wants to talk. Not much talking gets done.
A/N: Whew. Sorry this took a little bit. Strangely I had this half finished for a long time, but then never found that last bit of inspiration until break. But, here you go! Chronologically, this is third in the series. Enjoy!

Neku S. (donttouchthephones) started chatting with Joshua K. (pianissimo)

6:02pm

Neku says
hey
what’s up?

6:43pm
Joshua says
Sorry, I was at dinner
Not much, to be honest

Neku says
haven’t seen you @ school much
except for class

Joshua says
I’ve been at student council on top of more piano practice
There’s a concert in a week or so
Why they decided to have one just after break is beyond me

Neku says
why do you even need to practice?
don’t you always brag about being a prodigy?

Joshua says
Even Mozart would lose his touch if he didn’t keep at it
Speaking of the concert, would you like to come?
You didn’t really get to attend any of my performances last year
You can invite your friends, too

Neku says
sure
i’ll be there
dunno about shiki and eri and beat til I ask tho
but it’ll be cool to hear you play in a concert instead of just practicing

Joshua says
I’ll give you some of the announcement cards for it tomorrow
That will have the time and date and such

Neku says
okay
have you started that lit essay yet?

Joshua says
Yes, I’m nearly done
Just need to write the conclusion
I take it you haven’t even cracked the book yet

Neku says
you’re done???
i hate you sometimes
and i’ve read the book

Joshua says
It’s only four pages, Neku
I’m sure you’ll survive

Neku says
easy for you to say

Joshua says
Regardless, I think I should leave you to it
I wanted to finish watching that series I started the other day
So I’ll talk to you later

Neku says
wait

Joshua says
??

Neku says
do you wanna hang out tomorrow?
since we haven’t for a while

Joshua says
Been feeling lonely without me?

Neku says not a chance
i just felt like doing something
and i kinda want to tell you something too
so it works out

Joshua says
Something you can’t talk to me about now?

Neku says
idk it’s just easier in person and stuff
so do you want to or not?

Joshua says
I think I can get out of practice early
So sure

Neku says
cool
i’ll meet you in the hall outside the music rooms

Joshua says
All right, it’s a date~
I’ll see you in class
Have a good night, Neku

Neku says
yeah you too
later

Joshua has gone offline

*****

Joshua set a small stack of cards on his desk at the beginning of literature, saying they were for his concert, before swiveling back around in his seat as class started. The paper stock was thick, in pale blue, with fancy, looping script printed across it stating the occasion, date, and time. Neku slipped them into his pocket where they felt unnaturally warm and obtrusive against his leg for the rest of the day. The interaction, as brief and ordinary as it was, did nothing but worsen Neku’s anxiety about what he was going to do—confess—later on. Optimism had never been his strong suit, so by the time the dismissal bell rang, he was convinced that the best-case scenario was one where he didn’t lose it completely when Joshua laughed derisively in his face.

“Neku?” He felt a gentle tap on his shoulder and raised his head off his desk enough to peer at whoever wanted his attention. Unsurprisingly, it was Shiki. She’d been shooting him concerned looks since lunch. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Fine. Just tired.” Neku tried to wave her off, but Shiki’s lips just pressed into a thin, dour line. She wasn’t buying it.

“You’ve been all…fidgety. It’s not like you.”

“Today’s been extra boring?” He laughed, hoping it wasn’t too noticeably hollow or flat and that Shiki would start smiling along with him and make a quip about their physics teacher’s monotone. Her expression didn’t ease, however, frown deepening out of worry, but before she could say anything further, Eri popped up behind her and tugged at her arm.

“Shiki! You said it would just be a second!” She finished tapping something onto her phone with her other hand, before flashing a smile. “Oh, hey, Neku. You wanna come with us to the movies? Promise we’re not going to watch anything too boring for you.”

“It might help you relax,” Shiki added, imploringly.

“Nah, I have plans with Josh already.” Neku shook his head, leaning back against his seat. The shift caused something to jab into his hip, and the announcement cards swung to the forefront of his mind again. “Oh. Here.”

“What’s this?” Shiki turned the paper over delicately once Neku fished the invitations out of his pocket and handed them out.

“S’for Josh’s concert. He wanted me to come and said to bring you guys along too, if you were interested.”

“Ooh, seriously? It’s not every day you hear a so-called musical prodigy play.” Eri slipped the card carefully into her purse with a grin. “Count me in.”

“Me too.” With a slight nod, Shiki did the same, giving Neku one last, searching look as she zipped up the side compartment of her bag. “You’re sure nothing’s the matter?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry, Shiki. Could you do me a favor and take an extra invite for Beat, though? You’ll see him in class tomorrow before I will.”

“No problem.” She took the extra card Neku offered, finally turning away when Eri pointed out they were going to be late for the showing time they wanted. “I’ll see you later, Neku. Take a break tonight, okay?”

His only response was to return her and Eri’s cheery wave, deciding that, once the two of them were out of sight, delaying the inevitable by sulking around in the classroom wasn’t going to do any good. He slung his bag over one shoulder and slipped his headphones on, picking a song with oppressive, distracting base, and cranked up the volume.

The halls were nearly empty, most students already in clubs, headed home, or out with friends, and Neku was sure if he plunked himself down right next to the music room doors, he wouldn’t be disturbed. He knew from experience he couldn’t go in to watch Joshua practice, since the first time he tried, the piano teacher had muttered something about being a distraction and spoiling talent until Neku had finally taken the hint and shuffled out of the room. He settled for waiting outside after that, but he could always hear the faint notes of a song, or light, varied warm up melodies if he listened close enough. Most days, that was nice, reassuring, and sometimes Neku let himself pretend for a second or two that Joshua was playing just for him.

This time, he didn’t take his headphones off. He didn’t want to hear anything but the hard guitar and forceful vocals blasting through his speakers, far removed from the music that reminded him of Joshua, of his elegant fingers and the sweep of his hair over his neck. His mind had been wandering into increasingly dangerous territory, as if finally brushing away the last of the denial broke a dam of repressed thoughts in the process. He kept jumping back to the day at the pool, to Joshua sitting at the edge and picturing what it would be like to bite and suck at the soft, sensitive skin over his stomach until he threw his head back and moaned.

Neku’s head felt like static, too busy and full of blips and half-formed musings and images, a whir of wondering what he was going to say that didn’t sound unbearably pathetic and cheesy to even his own ears. He never would have said a word had he realized sooner all his bravado was, in reality, nothing but paper-thin desperation.

He was in the middle of planning his escape—slipping away and making up some excuse about how Shiki and Eri dragged him off to the movies and he couldn’t say no—when a slight rush of air swept by him as the door to the music rooms opened, and Joshua was peering down at him with one eyebrow raised. Nowhere to run now.

“What in the world are you doing sitting on the floor?”

“Waiting for you.” Neku attempted a nonchalant shrug as he pressed pause on his mp3 player, slipping his headphones off so they rested around his neck. “Was practice okay?”

“It was practice.” Joshua sighed, expression still a mix of baffled and curious as Neku stood. “Putting the final touches on my composition for the concert and such.”

“You mean you’re playing something you wrote?” He paused halfway through starching and working out the kinks in his legs to stare over at Joshua, more than a little impressed. Neku knew the other wrote music, since he’d seen the sketched lines and notes doodled in the margins of Joshua’s papers sometimes, but he didn’t realize they might have been pieces for actual songs.

“Yes. I’ve been working on it for a while, and my teacher seems to like it.” He adjusted the books he had tucked under one arm before gesturing down the hall with his other hand. “Do you mind if we stop by my locker before heading out? I don’t need any of this, and I don’t want to be lugging it around for the rest of the day.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Neku followed after him as he started walking, shoes making soft clicks against the tile in the silence of the near-empty building. He was quiet until they reached Joshua’s locker, and the other began setting his books neatly inside the shelves. “So, have anything in mind for where you wanna go?”

“After you’re the one who invited me out?” Joshua gave him an unimpressed, sidelong glance as he grabbed a folder and slipped it into his bag before closing the door and snapping the lock shut. It struck Neku then how easy it would be to just let things go on as they had been, to hang out as usual, to play off what he had planned to say as some meaningless, trivial thing. But Joshua had turned around by that point, looking squarely at Neku with a slight, thoughtful tilt to his head that caused a stray bit of hair to curl over his cheek. Such a small, commonplace gesture shouldn’t be the cause of anything at all, but Neku suddenly felt a tendril of impulsiveness mixed in with a burst of affection, and he was only half-listening to what the other was saying. “I keep hearing about this new tea shop, and I’m not really a fan, but apparently, they make good hot chocolate too. It seems like the kind of place we could talk easily. Didn’t you say you had something to tell me?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I—” Before his thoughts fully caught up with him, Neku’s hands hit the cold metal of the lockers on either side of Joshua’s arms, caging him in. He hesitated once more, inhaling sharply and thinking that saying something, anything, would be the better idea, but Joshua was so pretty, so magnetic, so close. Neku only kept moving, surging forward to catch the other’s mouth in a kiss.

He felt Joshua stiffen almost instantly, the action seemingly leaving no room for expectations beyond the fleeting sensation of warmth and impossibly soft lips against his own, and Neku was about to pull away to stutter out some thin, feeble apology when fingers gently curled into the upper sleeve of his uniform. The grip grew firmer after another moment, actively tugging him nearer, and Neku didn’t know how to react to the change, to Joshua breathing out a short, quiet sigh and relaxing. Was it out of true reciprocation? Out of pity? Or was it out of Joshua’s stupid, frustrating aversion to boredom and this was convenient entertainment?

Despite that uncertainty, Neku was finding it increasingly difficult to keep his mind from sinking deeper into a heady, pleasured haze. Did it really matter when he was getting something straight from his daydreams? Did it really matter when Joshua was kissing him back, running his tongue along Neku’s lips before slipping it past his teeth? Did it really matter—?

A second later and Joshua pulled back, just enough to speak, still so close Neku could see how pale Joshua’s eyelashes really were, nearly translucent under the florescent lights. Their collective breathing sounded almost too loud to Neku, even over the hard thud of his heartbeat in his own ears.

“We’ll get caught if we stay here,” Joshua said, and Neku was made acutely aware of their surroundings, the familiar halls and one of the locker hinges digging into the palm of his hand. He nodded, not sure if he was agreeing to the other’s statement or the suggestion layered underneath, but he was already being tugged along, around the corner and down another corridor, mind clearing enough that the question of why began floating around again. But Joshua pulled him into an empty classroom, golden afternoon sun peeking through the gaps in the shutters, before those thoughts formed into anything Neku could voice properly.

“Josh—”

“It’s fine. No one comes back here at this time of day.” There was the dull sound of Joshua’s bag hitting the floor, and he leaned up to kiss Neku’s bottom lip, sucking on it gently before pulling back again. “Set all your stuff down.”

The gesture was so unexpected, so completely beyond what Neku had even imagined, that he did exactly as told, dropping his backpack down beside Joshua’s and placing his headphones carefully on top of the pile. His balance was a little off as he stepped forward, and he caught himself on the closest desk with one hand as he reached out to tug the other with him. Joshua only laughed against his mouth as they met for another kiss, fingertips slipping under the hem of Neku’s shirt. The touch was nearly burning, leaving trails tingling heat in the wake of Joshua’s palms moving up his torso. Neku didn’t know what to do with his own hands, keeping one hovering uselessly in the air, too caught up in the way their tongues were sliding together to do much more until he had to break for air. His eyes were drawn from the other’s kiss-swollen lips to the line of his neck, all the way down to where it disappeared under his collar. He’d stared before, in class when he was sure Joshua wasn’t looking, and he tipped his head forward to do exactly what he’d pictured a dozen times or more, pressing soft, wet kisses along the column of Joshua’s throat. He heard the other let out a sigh, the sound of it rising up into a quiet moan when Neku added suction.

The noise, as small as it was, only spurred him on further to start loosening Joshua’s tie and picking apart the buttons of his shirt, lips trailing lower as more skin was revealed. Neku shuddered at the feeling of nails digging into the small of his back, but he took that as encouragement, and nipped at the bit of collarbone he had just moved over. His hands, having finally settled against the other’s hips for a short while, traveled down, along the outer line of Joshua’s ass and thighs, pressing through the fabric of his slacks occasionally to get a hint of the smooth, pliant skin underneath. The touch elicited a shiver from Joshua, along with a muffled, hitched gasp, which sent sparks of heat straight down to Neku’s cock. Experimentally, he tightened his grip, earning a low, heavy moan from the squeeze.

He allowed himself a bit of a smile as he tucked away the knowledge that Joshua had sensitive thighs, possibly for next time, before the question of whether there would even be a next time cut through the pleasurable fog shrouding his mind. The thought was almost enough for him to start pulling away, but Joshua had already undone the button of his pants and tugged down the zipper. Having zero time to brace himself for it, Neku froze when the other’s hand first slipped into his boxers, but once he felt warm, sure fingers curl around his length, all tension left him in a long, shuddering exhale. Joshua started stroking him slowly, as if to ease into it, but soon his movements turned firmer, quicker, and—shit, oh shit that was better than anything conjured up in a daydreams.

“Neku. Come on.” He could feel the breath of Joshua’s words against his neck, followed by a poignant nip right above his collar. He wasn’t entirely sure what was being asked of him, not until his wrist was grabbed and guided over so his palm pressed right against the other’s crotch.

It was admittedly hard for Neku to focus through the shivers of pleasure trailing up his spine, made worse by the fact Joshua had started kissing and sucking at his throat. He fumbled blindly with the button, trying not to glance down because he was sure if he got a look at Joshua’s elegant, slender pianist’s fingers wrapped around his cock, he’d come right there. Eventually, he popped it open and pulled the zipper down, faltering only once before sliding his hand beneath the elastic of the other’s underwear. He tried to match what Joshua was doing to him, tried to discern what he’d like the best, what would get him shuddering and gasping. Sliding his thumb in a circle over the tip caused Joshua to moan and his hips to twitch, which gave Neku enough confidence that his strokes turned steady and more rhythmic.

Every touch, every move, seemed to pull something out of him, some reaction or noise, or even just building up the pleasure and exhilaration until his breath was coming in pants. Joshua was still lavishing attention on his neck, some spots already stinging from bites and hard suction, but Neku only gave encouragement, reaching up to run his fingers through the other’s hair. Joshua seemed to like the action, if the way he seemed to melt, entire body going lax for just a beat, was any indication. He let out a breathy, quivering moan, and Neku shifted closer for a kiss, missing to the side a bit out of eagerness. He tilted his head enough that their lips met correctly, harder and more desperate than before. Joshua’s grip tightened and Neku jerked forward at the ensuing jolt of pleasure, forcing him to set his free hand on the desk behind him for balance.

It was hard to breathe, but he didn’t want to move away a centimeter further than he had to, so he settled for long, deep kisses interspersed with shorter breaks for air, like diving underwater and coming back to the surface. Joshua fell into the pattern quickly, but sometimes slid their mouths together again before Neku fully caught his breath. He hardly minded though, especially when Joshua pushed forward, the warmth from his body mixing with the heat Neku felt pulsing through him. Joshua’s hand came to rest over the one Neku had on the desk, the pressure enough to be felt but not enough to hurt. He didn’t know if that was out of design or accident, but either way, it made him shiver pleasurably, tipping closer to the edge of his stamina.

He bucked his hips, fervent and hurried, trying to get just a little more friction out of each stroke. Every sensation was dizzying, too much for him to focus on just one, escalating until Neku tensed, all the way down to his toes and came with a broken, hitched moan. A bit too sated in the aftermath, it took a few seconds and an impatient noise from Joshua before Neku was drawn back to the present. Immediately, he inclined his head down to press their lips together, almost apologetic, and started to pump his hand quicker, twisting his wrist in the same motion. He felt Joshua sigh more than heard it, felt him add a hint of teeth into the kiss, felt his breathing catch. The other’s fingers tightening around his own, nails digging into the wood of the desk, was the only warning he got before Joshua came, quivering, any noise he made muffled against Neku’s mouth.

His heart was still pounding, even after Joshua had pulled away completely, leaving Neku’s skin strangely chilled in the absence of body heat. He followed the other’s movements around the classroom, towards the counter at the back where he grabbed a box of tissues.

“Here.” He set them within Neku’s reach after taking a few for himself, beginning to clean up the mess on his hand.

“Thanks." After doing the same and zipping his pants back up, he chanced a glance over at Joshua, wondering if he should be on his way out or not. Besides the light, residual pleasured flush and obviously bruised lips, he was acting like nothing had happened at all. Never had Neku been more frustrated over Joshua’s inscrutable air than he was at that moment, but before he could express that, he was interrupted.

“This was what you wanted to talk to me about, right?” He tossed his used tissues in a nearby trashcan before peering at Neku over his shoulder.

“What?”

“This.” He gestured between them as if that would elucidate his point. “I’m not stupid, Neku. I’ve noticed you staring.”

“I—” A hot, bright blush crept up his face, and there was no way he could play that off. He was caught. “Yeah, so?”

“It’s been happening for a little while.” Joshua shrugged. “Eventually I assumed…well, you want me, don’t you?”

Neku blinked, his knee-jerk reaction was to demand what the other had first assumed, but what followed gave him pause. Was it as simple as that? He hadn’t even been sure what he’d been out to confess, beyond that he couldn’t stop thinking about Joshua and it was driving him crazy.

“I think so. Maybe.” He dropped his gaze to the floor, one hand coming up to touch the air beside his ear uselessly. His headphones lay across the room, so he’d have to do without the security they provided. “But I don’t—I didn’t want it to make a mess of everything. We can, uh, ignore this.”

“Ignore this? Why? It doesn’t necessarily have to make a mess, as you put it. There’s always friends with benefits.” The suggestion, coming from Joshua, was bewildering and ridiculous enough that Neku could only gape at him, trying to pick out any hint of teasing from the other’s features. When a few more seconds had passed and he still hadn’t said anything in response, Joshua decided to add, “you know, fuck buddies.”

“I know what you meant! I just didn’t think—” Neku huffed, ducking his head down further. “You don’t seem like someone who’s up for that.”

“I’m not, really.” Fiddling with a lock of his hair, Joshua bent down enough to peer at Neku’s face, thoughtfully. “Perhaps you’re just the exception.”

“Seriously?” He wasn’t sure if he should find that flattering or worrisome, but the offer was tempting enough to bypass most concerns. It could be that if he simply lived out a fantasy or two all his problems would be solved. He didn’t have to confess anything this way, put anything into words. It could work. He hoped. “…okay. We could try. I guess.”

“Try?” Joshua straightened, still looking a bit contemplative, but eventually, he offered a slight, fleeting smile. “If you say so.”

“So what now?” How did this sort of thing even work? How would things change—a beeping sounded from the pocket of Joshua’s slacks, disturbing Neku’s thoughts, and he pulled out his cell phone, peering at the screen with exasperation.

“Now, I have to go home.” He stepped back, towards their things sitting by the door. “We can talk later, though. Tomorrow, if you’re free.”

“Yeah, sure. Tomorrow.” Neku nodded, watching the other pick up his bag and sling it over his shoulder. Joshua paused in the doorway, giving him a small wave and another smile, wider this time, before disappearing down the hallway.

Strangely, Neku didn’t feel as if the weight that had been on his shoulders for the past weeks had been lifted at all. Maybe it had just been replaced by something equally as heavy.

A/N: Title comes from the song “It’s Not a Side Effect of the Cocaine, I’m Thinking it Must be Love” by Fall Out Boy.

Off-White Linen [1/1]

2012-11-10T09:38:20Z

Title: Off-White Linen [1/1]
Author: Melly
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Joshua/Hanekoma
Warnings: None. This is pretty tame.
Spoilers: Endgame and Secret Reports. Basically everything.
Summary: There are certain consistencies that can weather even the reset button.
A/N: This is also known as the fic I wrote during archeology class to keep me sane. My first time writing this pair, and I plan to write more of them. They’re too much fun not to, after all. Enjoy!

Whenever he’d fall asleep in the café, Joshua would wake up later, without fail, on Hanekoma’s couch in the upper loft, covered and kept warm. He questioned it once, when he was younger and alive, but Hanekoma only responded that he’d get a crick in his neck if he were left to nap at the tables or bar, so Joshua took it as something the other would just do, another one of the Angel’s countless eccentricities. Later on, during the days when he did not want to go home to deal with his parents or see the teeming Noise out on the streets, he’d take comfort in the gesture, a small moment of genuine relaxation and safety.

Joshua woke, still groggy, to the warm smell of coffee offset by sharper notes of spray paint and charcoal. He was wrapped up in a pale cream blanket, watching late afternoon sunlight stream through the blinds, catching motes of dust and washing the paintings scattered about into sepia tones, the canvas frames casting long, thin shadows across the floor. It was comfortable, calm enough that cold gunmetal and the prickling, overwhelming surge of so much Soul recoding seemed like a distant, vague memory.

Limbs and mind still leaden from exhaustion, Joshua managed to drag himself to his feet and shuffled across the floor, carefully avoiding open sketchbooks and stray pallets. He heard the hiss of an espresso machine working by the time he was halfway down the stairs, but the main room of the café was dimmed from half-shuttered windows, and void of customers.

“Thought I heard you up.” Joshua didn’t respond at first, looking Hanekoma over pensively, before sighing and bringing up a hand to smooth down his mussed hair.

“That wasn’t a dream, was it?” He didn’t ask it so much as state it, throwing off the last dregs of warm haziness still clinging to the edge of his mind as he took a seat at the bar.

“ ‘Fraid not, Josh.” There was a flicker of some indescribable emotion across his features before his eyes turned inscrutable behind his sunglasses again. It irritated Joshua that he still couldn’t pinpoint things like that, pick up on the subtleties of Hanekoma as easily as the twitches and tells of others, even after so long. That difficultly led to part of the mess, after all. Or rather, if he were honest, Joshua didn’t let himself believe what all the little hints and oddities added up to. A betrayal by Hanekoma seemed ridiculous, unfathomable, but with how wrong he turned out to be, that assurance was what blinded him. Such willing, hefty denial was somehow more unsettling more than everything else. The clink of a ceramic mug hitting the counter drew him away from his thoughts and he shifted his gaze over to the coffee now set in front of him. “Figured you’d need that. I’m honestly surprised you’re up and about.”

“Why am I here?” Joshua wrapped his hands around the cup, but didn’t drink from it, the warmth beneath his fingers a familiar comfort.

“After all that Soul recoding you did, you weren’t exactly steady on your feet.” Hanekoma gestured vaguely before resting one forearm against the counter. “Brought you back here for some sleep. First place I thought of.”

Joshua made a quiet, acknowledging sound, glancing out the half of the window not obscured by blinds. It was just getting towards evening, a few lights starting to come on here and there. He had slept for a long while, but whether that was in hours or days, he wasn’t sure.

“What now?” He asked, a definite heaviness to the inquiry that strung a silence between them for a few more seconds than was typical.

“Well, whatever you want, boss. Clean slate and all that.”

“It’s not clean.” Joshua rested his chin on his palm, still staring resolutely out to the people walking by on the streets, none of them giving the café a second glance.

“Cleaner than it was.” Hanekoma amended. “Not all that bad, right?”

“Maybe.” It depended on what he was referring to, which Joshua mulled over as he finally took a sip of coffee. There were still quite a few messes to clean up, reorganizing the Game and dealing with the Higher Planes’ retribution for all transgressions made. It would have saved so much trouble, Joshua thought ruefully, if he really had razed the entire thing, but that was likely the exhaustion speaking. He was so tired. “Are you happy I’m still here?”

There was a whole list of other, more important things he could have asked about, but he wanted some kind of answer, some sort of explanation for what had been done, even if he had pieced enough of it together on his own. He glanced up in time to see Hanekoma’s eyebrows raise nearly to his hairline from honest surprise. Well, at least he could still do that much, once in a while, even if he wasn’t sure the shock was from the inquiry itself, or just how quickly the topic had been brought up.

“Of course I am, J. What kinda question is that?” Joshua simply stared over the rim of his mug until Hanekoma winced sheepishly, holding up one hand in placation. “Okay, okay. I get it. But I meant what I said.”

“Do you really? It would have been easier.” He set his cup back down, absently tracing along the curve of the handle. “If I had been taken out of the picture earlier, I mean.”

“This wasn’t about what was easiest or not.” Hanekoma was watching him incisively, picking apart words and phrases for what lay underneath, but Joshua just offered a sliver of a smile, undaunted.

“I suppose not. You just did what you had to, after all.” There was a bitter, sardonic edge to his tone that caused Hanekoma to heave a sigh, resignedly.

“Look, it’s—” He stopped when Joshua reached over the counter and grabbed his wrist, grip firm and adamant.

“It’s not okay, what happened,” Joshua said, glancing over Hanekoma’s hand with a vague curiosity before tugging it forward, pressing the other’s palm against his cheek. “But I might believe you. There were so many more, simpler chances for sabotage that you didn’t take. And since I know you aren’t stupid or unobservant, Sanae, that leaves me only one choice.”

“I never really wanted you gone, J.” His fingers curled, catching on the curve of Joshua’s jaw and pressing there. “That’s a given.”

“Like you always bringing me here and tucking me in when I fall asleep on your watch?” The contemplative tinge to the question was only out of teasing. Joshua knew it was a constant, something that couldn’t be scrubbed out, a reminder that white would never really be white again. He was no longer sure he could bring himself to mind it.

“Sure. Like that,” Hanekoma agreed, dropping his hand. He walked around the counter a moment later, giving a gentle ruffle to Joshua’s hair. “Speaking of sleep, though, I think you could use some more.”

“If you insist.” Joshua huffed, attempting to straighten out the damage Hanekoma had done with the gesture. “Take me to your place.”

“Uh-huh. Any particular reason behind that request? You owe me for that coffee, by the way.”

“Oh, goodness, sounds like you already have ideas.” Joshua slipped out of his seat, any mocking, coy look immediately souring at the second half of Hanekoma’s statements. “And put it on my tab or something.”

“The one you don’t actually have.” He still put his hand at the small of Joshua’s back, regardless, steering him towards the door. The light pressure was reassuring, warm enough that Joshua wanted to pillow his head in the crook of Hanekoma’s neck and close his eyes. But that would have to wait for at least a little while longer.

“So let it slide, for once,” he murmured, distantly noting the late sunset was a particularly vibrant orange. Hanekoma only chuckled.

“Well, see, now you’re just talking nonsense. C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”

Joke Me Something Awful [1/1]

2012-07-13T05:34:50Z

Title: Joke me Something Awful [1/1]
Author: Melly
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Joshua/Neku…kind of more along the lines of Neku->Joshua.
Spoilers: None, it’s an AU.
Warnings: Language, some sexual imagery
Summary: High school AU. Somewhere between being friends and being friends with benefits, there was a tipping point.
A/N: I never intended this to kind of…become it’s own thing, but it has. This is part of a fic verse now called Bang the Doldrums that includes “Moves Make up for The Silence.” Chronologically, this fic is second in the series. I don’t know how it happened, but there you go. Enjoy!

During the last week of summer vacation, the season dug its claws in and the city was hit by a freak heat wave, temperatures rising into the thirties. At first, Neku endured the sweltering weather in front of a fan while he worked through a stack of videogames, but before too long, the noise of his cell phone buzzing insistently against his desk pulled him out of his stupor. He knew who it was before he even glanced at the screen.

“Hey, Josh.”

“I’m bored.” There was a heavy sigh on the other end of the line. “Let’s go do something today.”

“You know how hot it is, right?” He thought he remembered the news saying it could hit over 37 again. “You actually want to go out in that?”

“It’s better than sitting around here. I spent all of yesterday cooped up.” Neku heard rustling, like Joshua was adjusting himself in a chair or on a couch, and nearly groaned in defeat when a particular persuasive, swaying edge crept into the other’s tone. “And I’m sure we can find something diverting to do that keeps us out of the heat for the most part.”

“That sounds like you already have something in mind.”

“Maybe. So I’ll see you at Hachiko soon?”

“Yeah.” Neku stood, wincing at the feeling of the skin on the back of his thighs coming unstuck from the plastic of his chair. “Be there in a bit.”

He hung up before Joshua could get another quip in, resigning himself to the fact he’d have to leave the cool sanctuary of his room, and that he was a complete idiot for going along with Joshua’s whims again. Maybe it was the temperature getting to him. Maybe he was actually curious about what was planned. But he’d been giving in more and more easily since early spring, so maybe, maybe he was just weirdly happy to be spending time with Joshua.

The rush of blistering air when he stepped outside took his mind off that train of thought, thankfully, and he simply focused on the music coming from his headphones. There was practically no shade to be found when sun was so high, bright in the pieces of sky between the skyscrapers, reflecting and glinting off windows. He was already sweating when he reached the meeting place, the familiar image of the dog statue warped by the heat coming off the pavement in waves. Neku sidestepped a group of girls dressed in Sheep Heavenly, one of them complaining how she shouldn’t have worn tights, before he spotted Joshua, standing towards the edge of crowd with a bag slung over one shoulder. He was dressed more casually than usual, which was cause for suspicion, but he had already spotted Neku and gave him a little wave. No way to back out now.

“I see you made it through the desert all right,” he teased, looking irritatingly unaffected by the weather.

“Barely.” Neku’s eyes narrowed slightly as he swiped a hand over his forehead. “So where are we going?”

“You’ll see. Come on.” Joshua pivoted around on his heel and started walking. “It’ll be fun.”

“If you’re acting like this and we’re just going to WildKat, I swear, Joshua—”

“Oh, please. I doubt Sanae’s even opened the place today.” He shrugged one shoulder, dismissively. “This is something new. We should make a stop before the main event, though.”

“Main event?” Neku echoed, becoming increasingly more incredulous and wary as Joshua slipped into the first convenience store they came across. “Can’t you just tell me?”

“That would ruin it.” Joshua glanced over his shoulder, shooting Neku a look of mocking concern. “What, you don’t like surprises?”

“It’s not that.” He sighed, watching as Joshua continued his own mysterious agenda for the day, meandering through the isles thoughtfully. “Whatever. I’m getting ice cream while we’re here. You want one?”

“Sure. Anything but—”

“Coconut,” Neku finished for him. “I know.”

“Oh, so you do pay attention.” The smile he wore was both enigmatic and appraising, the one that made it seem like he could pry Neku open and rustle through his emotions and thoughts like a junk drawer. It unsettled him in a way that went beyond the anxiety of feeling like he was being assessed, likely because there were some things he did not want Joshua to find. Worst of all, the other always remained completely inscrutable about whatever it was he managed to garner from Neku’s words or body language. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair at all how Neku kept feeling like he was playing a game of poker and Joshua could always see his hand. “Never thought you were really listening.”

“Yeah, well. I notice more than you think.” Neku shrugged vaguely, tensing a second later when he heard Joshua laugh, derisive and skeptical.

“Really, now?”

“Really.” He turned away, bringing a hand up to curl uneasily around one side of his headphones. There was no way to win, since he couldn’t overtly protest that he did notice, noticed too much, picking up on Joshua’s preferences and mannerisms over time, how he hated peppers and never noticed his hair falling over his eyes if he was engrossed in something. Neku wasn’t sure when or why he started watching and filing things away, probably out of a desire to somehow find the key to reading Joshua as easily as Joshua read others, but now he found himself unable to stop, a hill he had no choice but to tumble down, left dizzy and helpless at the bottom.

Soon enough, they were back outside, Joshua having completed whatever unexplained task he went in for, and the sweltering air a welcome distraction. Neku wordlessly offered Joshua an ice cream as they walked, mango flavored, before tearing open the wrapper to his own. The coolness of it was barely a respite, and he was tired of the sun in his eyes and walking around in the oppressive, suffocating heat.

“So are you going to tell me where we’re going now?” Neku shot a glare in Joshua’s direction but only caught the other licking up the side of his ice cream bar. The flash of tongue was unexpected, the little hint evoking a strange sort of shiver, and he dropped his gaze down to the sidewalk.

“Haven’t you ever heard that patience is a virtue?”

“I’ll take that as a no.” Finally resigning himself to the fact Joshua wasn’t going to budge on the subject, Neku simply followed along blankly, trying not to glance over lest he see more things the other was doing with his tongue. It wasn’t until his ice cream was just down to the stick that he noticed the crowds had thinned out and, strangely, they were approaching the sports fields of their school, the familiar buildings in the distance reflecting the strong sunshine.

“Here we are,” Joshua said, tossing away his trash in a nearby can before approaching the fence. Neku did the same, dazedly, staring in utter disbelief as the other reached through the bars to start fiddling with the lock on the gate.

“What the hell Joshua? You seriously dragged me out to go to school?”

“We won’t be going to the classrooms, silly.” He snorted, slowly turning the combination dial. “We’re going to the warm-up pool.”

“Warm-up pool?” Neku blinked, eyebrows furrowing as the lock popped open with a loud click, and Joshua pushed the gate open. “How did you do that?”

“Yes. You know that pool that’s right outside the indoor one? Not very big, but it’ll be fun.” Joshua slipped inside, tossing a faint, smug smile over his shoulder. “And I saw the combination when I was in the main office once. Memorized them in case it came in handy. Lock that up again, will you? Don’t want an open gate causing suspicion.”

“If you wanted to go swimming, I just don’t see why we couldn’t go to the public pool.” Neku did as asked, however, making sure it was shut tight and didn’t look tampered with, before heading across the track field with Joshua.

“With those crowds? No thank you.” Joshua shook his head. “This way we have the whole place to ourselves.”

“I guess.” It was a good point, one that Neku wasn’t going to admit to out of pride, but he had a feeling Joshua already knew as much, judging from how self-satisfied he still looked. Asshole.

The fence surrounding the warm-up pool was short enough to be jumped easily, Neku turning around to admire the clear, glassy surface of the water once they were both safely over. He heard a soft thud beside him, likely Joshua’s bag hitting the ground, but didn’t glance over until the sound of rustling fabric followed. Joshua had already discarded his shirt, and was in the process of sliding off his pants, revealing a pair of black boxers and more smooth, unblemished skin. After only being allowed glimpses, from the times Joshua loosened his uniform tie or wore open collared shirts, it was completely jarring to have Joshua in front of him like this, all lithe and soft and perfect, the very thing Neku steadfastly pretended he didn’t constantly daydream about.

“You’re staring,” Joshua commented, amusement coloring his tone.

“Just wondering how you’re not bursting into flames out here, since you’re so pale.” Neku busied himself with slipping his headphones off his ears and setting them in a safe place, thankful any sort of flush could easily be blamed on the heat.

“I put on sunscreen already. I bet you’re upset you missed the chance to help me apply it.”

“Yeah, right.” The image of his hands roaming over those slim shoulders flashed in his mind for just a moment before forcefully pushed it away. “I could have brought swim trunks if you’d told me about this, you know.”

“Like I’ve been saying, that would ruin the surprise.” Neku followed the other’s movements over to the low diving board on the deeper end of the pool. “Besides, it’s hot enough that anything that gets wet will dry out quick.”

“That’s not the point,” Neku protested, but Joshua simply waved him off, far more preoccupied with stepping to the end of the board and executing a swan dive into the water. The ripples from the splash fanned out, hitting the edge and recoiling, distorting Joshua’s image beneath the surface. Neku shook his head, muttering show off under his breath as he peeled his shirt off and tossed it somewhere behind him.

“This is nice.” Joshua eventually popped up and started to swim in lazy, slow circles, casting a glance over his shoulder. “You going to join me?”

Instead of responding verbally, Neku simply kicked his pants and shoes to the side before taking a running start and leaping into the water. The spray it caused would be enough to aggravate Joshua, which, as small of a trick as it was, would be satisfactory payback for the other’s haughtiness, at least for now. Sure enough, when Neku surfaced, Joshua was wiping water out of his eyes, lips pressed into a thin line.

“You’re right. This is nice.” He couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, even when Joshua retaliated and swept his arm in an arc across the water, sending a swath of it in Neku’s direction. “So what do we do now?”

“What do you mean? Just relax.” Joshua demonstrated by floating on his back, drifting languidly with small kicks of his legs. “You’re not suggesting we play Marco Polo or some such nonsense?”

“No, but just…swimming around is kind of boring.” He was still a little annoyed, at the heat and at stupid Joshua for never being straightforward and at himself for going along with the other’s whims anyway. It irked him more to see how relaxed Joshua was, coasting along quietly and at complete ease. Neku wanted to ruffle his feathers again, like when he was splahed, just because it was so rare. Could anyone else do it? It gave Neku a strange sense of giddy satisfaction, and the second a half-decent idea formed in his head, he pushed off the wall, gliding out to where Joshua floated before wrapping his arm around the other’s waist and yanking him under.

He could feel Joshua squirming, trying to wriggle away, but Neku just tightened his grip. Eventually, he managed to slip through, sputtering and gasping when he finally came back up. Neku realized far too late that he shouldn’t have started laughing at that, because Joshua was on him in an instant, dunking his head underwater and holding him there. After a bit of thrashing, Neku finally got free, coughing and pushing his hair away from his eyes when he surfaced again.

“Shit, that got up my nose!”

“Your own fault.” Joshua giggled, unrepentant, which only made Neku want to toss water into his face again, and soon everything dissolved into splashes and tackles and tugs on legs and shoulders to pull each other under the surface. By the end of it, Neku was breathless and Joshua was full out laughing, clinging to the edge so he wouldn’t have to focus on treading water at the same time. Neku wasn’t sure he had seen Joshua laugh like that before, when it was so unrestrained, the sound lilting and reminiscent of bells. Warmth seeped right down to his bones.

“You gonna be okay?” He joked, and Joshua nodded, finally calming down enough to hoist himself out of the pool. Neku found his eyes following the trail droplets made along Joshua’s torso, over his stomach and down to the hint of hipbone, made more prominent by how low his boxers sat from the weight of the water saturating them. He suddenly found it hard to swallow, mouth dry, and fuck what would it feel like if he got to kiss and lick at that pale, pretty skin? The warmth he felt before was quickly pooling in the pit of his stomach, causing it to twist into an entirely different feeling, and Neku forced his attention away, paddling over to the shallow end before Joshua noticed anything out of the ordinary.

“All right. That was decently fun, I admit.” He could hear the splat of wet footsteps as Joshua walked around the concrete. Neku said nothing in response as he clambered out of the pool, gaze flicking over to Joshua, watching the other amble over to his bag to pull something out of it, wet, black cotton clinging to his thighs and ass— “Here. Towel.”

“Thanks.” Neku reached out to take it, drying off his face and torso and trying to pretend he wasn’t just checking Joshua out. It shouldn’t be happening. It shouldn’t.

“Come on. We can go dry off in the grass.” Joshua had already slipped his shirt back on and picked up the bag, waiting for Neku to do the same and gather his things before they made their way over to the grassy hill that sloped down into the track field, settling down under one of the maple trees. Once seated, Joshua reached into his bag again and tossed Neku a soda, still cold and dripping with condensation.

“How did you…?”

“It’s what I stopped into the convenience store for.” He shrugged, twisting open the cap to his own drink. “Although I brought a couple of those freeze packs from home so it would stay cold.”

“I guess you thought of everything.” Neku shook his head a bit, hiding the smile that crept up by taking a sip of soda.

“You expect anything less?” Joshua leaned back until his head was pillowed on his folded towel, hands resting over his stomach. Neku didn’t answer, slipping his headphones back on instead. He was content to get lost in something with a smooth, deep guitar, hard drumbeat and unique vocals, to clear his mind and forget about the churning feelings in the center of his chest that made him hyperaware of the other next to him. Before too long, though, there was a poke to his shoulder and he looked over to see Joshua squinting up at him thoughtfully. He tapped his ear, and Neku took the hint, lifting one side of his headphones away. “What are you always listening to on those?”

“Music,” Neku replied, bluntly. Joshua just rolled his eyes.

“No, I mean, what sort? You know, genres, bands, and the like.”

“I dunno. A bunch of different stuff.” It was the vague answer he gave most people, but Joshua wasn’t most people, was he? “You wanna listen?”

“Really?” There was genuine surprise in Joshua’s voice, enough that Neku offered his headphones easily, just to see what the other would do, and was rewarded by a slight, but elated smile as Joshua took them.

“You can even change the song to something you like.” He placed the MP3 player within Joshua’s reach, but the other was already settling back with the headphones securely over his ears, apparently content with the music choice. Neku leaned against the trunk of the tree, looking out onto the track field, a little thankful any semblance conversation had been dropped. He didn’t feel like holding up his end of it.

The world always seemed different without music in the background, and slowly, he’d notice small things like the cicadas’ high buzzing and the sound of sirens in the distance. His mind wandered as he took swigs from his drink, to what he felt like for dinner, to how much school was going to suck up his free time in a few days, and to various sketch ideas that made his hands itch for paper and a pencil. At some point, his absent thoughts began to bend towards Joshua, towards how he looked, towards how Neku couldn’t stop looking. An insidious little voice in the back of his head asked him if it would really be that bad if he said something, anything, to Joshua. To poised, enigmatic, petulant, know-it-fucking-all Joshua. To Joshua, who still sometimes felt as out of reach and untouchable as he was before they met, some figurehead of cool impassiveness he only knew from rumors Eri mentioned and as the guy who sat behind him in literature and history. It was almost laughable.

“Real hilarious,” Neku muttered, glancing over to check that he hadn’t been caught talking to himself. Luckily, Joshua had his eyes closed, expression calm and peaceful, and Neku wondered if he had fallen asleep. He nudged the other’s leg gently with his foot. “Hey. Hey, you awake?”

“Yes.” He opened his eyes almost immediately, peering up at Neku through his eyelashes. “Would it have mattered if I decided to take a nap?”

“Not really. You shouldn’t leave me sitting here all bored if you’re the one that invited me out, though.”

“Here. I’m done listening.” Joshua sat up, sliding the headphones off before handing them back over to Neku. “And there’s a reason I was so adamant today.”

“Oh? Gonna make me guess what it is?” He fiddled with the MP3 player, absently looking at the screen to see what songs Joshua had gone through.

“No. My father comes back from business overseas tomorrow.”

“And?” Neku’s eyebrows furrowed, quizzically, letting his headphones rest around his neck. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Not a whole lot, admittedly,” Joshua explained. “It’s not an uncommon occurrence, after all. But whenever he comes back, I’m made to spend time with him and mother at dinners and such, since he’s never back for long. So today was the last day of break I had all to myself.”

“Really?” The sudden rush of satisfaction Neku felt at the knowledge that Joshua decided to spend the day with him was ridiculous, bordering on pathetic, because it was stupid to think it wasjust for him, Joshua simply never liked being bored—

“Really. One last hurrah before school starts up again.” He gestured widely, as if to the whole city that lay beyond the fence.

“I guess. Knowing my luck, I’ll have you in history again and you’ll never shut up with all those dumb facts you know.” He followed the sweep of the other’s arm, fingers absentmindedly running over the dips and bumps along the plastic of his headphones.

“Oh, please. You’d never pass anything without me.” Joshua snorted. “I should start charging you tutoring fees.”

“Yeah, well. How about I treat you to dinner and we call it even?” Neku brushed stray bits of grass off his boxers, and, finding them sufficiently dry, stood to pull his bottoms back on.

“Ooh, what’s gotten into you?” He glanced over to Joshua, to the way the dappled sunlight peeking through the leaves cast shadows over his face and hair, and answered with the only thing that wasn’t you, Josh, my friend, the only sort of half-truth, that still felt safe.

“I don’t know.”

A/N: Title comes from “I’ve Got a Dark Alley and a Bad Idea that Says You Should Shut Your Mouth (Summer Song)” by Fall Out Boy. I have no idea how all of these fics decided to be titled from lyrics of songs by them, either. But I guess it works with the whole high school teenage hormone angst thing?

Featherlight [1/1]

2012-06-25T07:15:59Z

Title: Featherlight [1/1]
Author: Melly
Rating: MA/NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Joshua/Neku
Spoilers: Post-Game TWEWY and a very small one for Dream Drop Distance (if you can even consider that canon towards TWEWY in the first place).
Warnings: Language, explicit sexual situations,
Summary: Wingkink. It’s an ordinary day when Neku becomes curious about a certain aspect of Joshua he’s sure exists, but he’s never seen.
A/N: Well, this was a long time coming, all things considered. I’ve had this floating around in my head for months, thanks life for getting in the way. In any case, I hope all of you enjoy!

Neku asked questions. That, by itself, wasn’t an oddity, but Joshua had expected them to come in a demanding barrage, a torrent of whys and hows, instead of the way they seemed to pop up, indiscriminately, into the middle of their conversations. It was almost as if Neku was waiting for some kind of opening, trying to get the timing right, especially since their earliest meetings after the Game were so strained, taut enough that a single word would send everything snapping back into an argument. Joshua couldn’t pinpoint exactly when the tenseness faded into acceptance, or even when that tipped over into something comfortable, only that it took a long while and too much frustration, weeks building upon weeks of small progresses.

A large part of him had been convinced that they wouldn’t ever reach such a state at all, and yet they were relaxing in the back part of WildKat, Joshua flipping through a magazine, listening to the quiet scratch of Neku’s pencil against his sketchbook. He was almost grateful for the surprises. At the very least, they kept things interesting.

“Hey.” Joshua felt the other nudge the leg of his chair, but didn’t glance up. “Is Mr. H around?”

“No. Said something about an errand,” he replied, lazily turning a page. “If you want a drink, you’re going to have to fetch it yourself.”

“Oh.” There was a long pause, Neku tapping out a quick rhythm with the eraser of his pencil against the small table between them, before he tossed out another question. “Do you have wings?”

“Well, yes.” Such an inquiry was unexpected, blunt enough that Joshua finally tore his eyes away from Dragon Couture’s new fall line, regarding Neku with equal parts curiosity and wariness. “Why do you ask?”

“Dunno. I’ve been wondering about it for a while.” He shrugged, thumbing the corner of his sketchbook, absently. “I was doodling stuff that reminded me. What are they like?”

“Stuff?” Joshua quirked an eyebrow, almost leaning over to see if he could steal a peek at the drawings. “They’re white. Feathered. What more do you want to know?”

“Huh.” Neku scrunched up his nose, frowning a bit. “That’s not what I expected.”

“Disappointed?”

“Not really. Just didn’t picture it like that.” He glanced away to some point towards the front of the café, and Joshua returned his attention back to the magazine before Neku decided to break the silence again, his voice pitched slightly quieter, hesitant. “…can you show me?”

“Can I show you my wings, you mean?” The other gave a short, jerky nod, and Joshua tapped a finger to his lips, thoughtfully. “I can possibly fine-tune my Vibe enough so that they’re visible here, but I’ve never done it before.”

“Okay.” Neku looked back at him, expectantly, brows furrowing when Joshua didn’t move. “Aren’t you going to?”

“You just asked me if I could,” Joshua pointed out, lips quirking up in a smile when the other huffed in frustration and was forced to amend his phrasing.

“Will you show me, then?”

“Why are you so interested?” He was answering questions with questions now, something he knew Neku absolutely despised, but it was peculiar just how adamant the other was being over a supposed passing curiosity.

“I guess would be cool to see them up close, you know? Especially if yours are different because you’re the Composer and stuff.” Neku shrugged, stiffly, looking a little too uncomfortable for Joshua to be convinced the reason given was the entirety of it, but he recognized that particularly stubborn tone.

“Fine.” He sighed, knowing that if he didn’t give into the small whim now, Neku would certainly not drop the subject. He was impossible once he dug his heels in, Joshua had learned that from early in their time together during the Game, and he didn’t have anything to use as leverage this time around. “Close your eyes, then.”

“…You’re not going to trick me or anything, are you?” Neku squinted, suspiciously. “Is that why you said okay?”

“Honestly, you’d think you’d be a little happier getting what you wanted.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to trick you. Have a little more faith, Neku. But if you don’t believe me, I can just go back to the reading of mine you interrupted.”

“Right, right. Sorry for tearing you away from your precious clothing.” Despite the grumbling, Neku finally did as asked, and his eyes slid shut. The request mostly had to do with Joshua maintaining a certain level of concentration, since he had never brought his wings into visibility in the RG. In fact, he rarely even did it in the UG, as it was far too troublesome, which begged the question of why he was attempting it simply because Neku had asked. But that wasn’t something he was going to dwell on, currently, and swept the thought aside in favor of focusing on adjusting his frequency. It was difficult to hone in on the exact part of the Vibe that dictated his wings’ visibility and size, since he was completely unused to seeking it out, and he was sure he accidentally jumped into the UG a few times as a result.

Eventually, just as he was on the edge of complete frustration, he felt a sudden pressure in the middle of his back, accompanied by the strange new awareness of another appendage, feathers ruffling in agitation as he tried to adjust. He’d never get used to that.

“You can open your eyes now,” Joshua said, after a cursory glance behind him to check that he hadn’t knocked anything over when his wings materialized. Blinking a few times to clear his vision, Neku finally got a good look, gaze immediately fixating upon the bright white plumage. Joshua expected curiosity from the other, of course, but was a bit taken aback by the pure awe that was starting to creep over Neku’s expression.

“Whoa.” He leaned forward, far enough he nearly fell out of his seat. “Those are real?”

“Yes. Why would I bother making fakes?”

“They’re just…really, really bright. Like they’re not even solid.” Joshua opened his mouth to reiterate that his wings were quite tangible, but Neku decided to test the validity of that for himself and reached out, fingertips grazing along the bottom feathers. The touch was more startling than unpleasant, but Joshua still recoiled, shooting the other a quick, affronted glare. Neku drew his hand back, guilty and a little chagrined, his eyes darting down to the tabletop. “Sorry. Guess I wasn’t supposed to touch them?”

“You could have asked.” Joshua heaved a long sigh, still guardedly keeping his wings close to his body.

“Sorry,” Neku said again, looking steadily more sheepish. “Does it hurt or something?”

“No. Just surprising, is all.” He shrugged, idly. “No one has before.”

“You’ve never let anybody else touch them?” Neku blinked at him, sluggishly, still slightly awestruck.

“It’s more that no one has felt the need to,” Joshua elaborated.

“Right.” Falteringly, he raised his hand like he was going to reach out again, but thought better of it, fingers curling into a loose fist as he dropped his arm back down to his side.

“You want to touch them.” It wasn’t spoken as a question, the other’s interest made rather obvious, but Joshua still wondered about the reasoning behind it.

“Yeah?” Neku flicked his gaze up to Joshua’s face, lips quirking downwards in a slight frown. “Can I?”

“I don’t see why you wish to in the first place,” Joshua said, tilting his head to the side inquisitively, trying to discern any hint he had missed from Neku’s demeanor. “But I suppose it’s all right. Just don’t go asking all the time.”

“ ‘Kay.” He stood, shuffling closer, and Joshua’s wings quivered slightly in anticipation before Neku trailed his hand over the arched bone of the left one. The touch, while uncertain and light, still sent a tingle of something indescribably warm through him. It was much like the sensation of someone playing with his hair, or something brushing against the inside of his wrist, contact to sensitive places that rarely received it from outside sources. “…they’re soft.”

“Mm?”

“They’re soft,” Neku repeated, louder, growing more confident as he stroked over feathers, following them down to their tips. Joshua tried to keep his breath from hitching, but as the other’s hands wandered back up, towards joints hidden beneath down, he couldn’t suppress a slight shudder, goose bumps prickling over his arms. Neku seemed downright enthralled, leaning forward so he didn’t have to strain to touch the full breadth of the wings, propping one knee up on the chair for leverage. It was a wonder if he even fully registered what he was doing, at least until he curled his fingers gently into the plumage and Joshua let out a quiet sound caught halfway between a gasp and a moan. It was enough that Neku tipped his head down, recognition briefly flickering across his features. “Josh?”

“Why?” At the very least, his voice was still even, but it was small comfort against the breathlessness he felt creeping into it. “Why did you want to do this?”

“I don’t know. I don’t—it’s something about you I hadn’t seen. So I wanted to. And then you looked—they looked—” The bridge of Neku’s nose creased as he let out an exasperated huff, dazed and struggling for words. “I just—”

Anything Joshua planned to say in response to extract better information was immediately swallowed up by an insistent, hungry kiss, Neku moving to straddle him in the same movement as he brought his other leg up onto the chair. The abruptness, the sudden disorientation, didn’t afford Joshua any time to brace against the onslaught of sensation, and it caused something to crack, to splinter and fall away. His lips parted in the wake of the subsequent surge of warmth, arm wrapping around the other’s waist to pull him closer. Neku’s hands tightened around the upper curve of Joshua’s wings, pressing against the bone, a slight, relieved sigh puffing into the kiss at the reciprocation. He swiped his tongue along Joshua’s teeth, still hesitant, before finding no resistance and delving further into his mouth. A quiet moan bubbled up from Joshua at the feeling of that slick heat, the sound evoking a shiver from Neku, knees tensing against Joshua’s hips.

“You want this.” He broke the kiss enough to speak, breath warm and tickling with every word. There was an edge to his tone, a strange sort of astonishment and wonder. “You want this, you want this.”

Joshua only laughed—yes, I want your brightness, I want you, all of you, Neku, is that so surprising?—and sucked on the other’s bottom lip, before murmuring, “don’t take your hands off my wings.”

“Oh. Okay.” He smiled, just a slight upturn at the corners of his mouth, hands starting to move in lazy patterns over the expanse of feathers. The touch was firmer than it was before, and the jolt the increase in pressure induced made Joshua almost boneless with pleasure. The intensity of it was startling, far more than he imagined, plunging his mind into a hot, numbing haze. Neku seemed to sense this, his touches turning exploratory to search out the most sensitive points.

Tipping his head up, Joshua stamped a line of kisses down Neku’s throat, hearing a quiet, hitched moan when he passed over the pulse there. He lingered, adding suction and the slightest hint of teeth to the same spot as his hands wandered down to the hem of the other’s shirt, tugging it up to expose more skin. Neku kept making noise—soft, broken sounds that he tried to muffle, which only spurred Joshua on to make it so he couldn’t hold anything back. Although his wings continued to be a distraction, nails digging into Neku’s skin whenever a brush across them sent another pleasurable shudder through him.

He trailed his lips down until they met fabric, but it didn’t take long for Joshua to reach a hand up and pull it away just enough to lap at the hollow in the other’s collarbone. Neku squirmed, letting out a steam of breathless swears in response, and Joshua dropped his hands down to the hem of his pants, popping open the button and trying to wriggle out of them.

“Stay still.” Once he got the fabric down past his thighs, along with his underwear, he started on Neku’s bottoms, making a frustrated noise when they bunched up at the other’s knees. It would have to do.

“Hey, what—?” He shifted anxiously again when his boxers were tugged down, but once Joshua wrapped a hand around his cock, he simply let out a shuddering sigh as his fingers curled into Joshua’s wings, burrowing deep into the space where the feathers were the thickest. It was poignant, heady and honey-sweet, the noise it pulled from Joshua low and almost keening. He all but melted against the other, grip loosening enough to take both their cocks in hand and squeeze. “Fuck, Josh.”

The knowledge of what simple touches could do should have been alarming, on some level, but besides the fact Joshua simply couldn’t bring himself to care through the heat and sensation, a stray thought about trust wormed its way to the forefront of Joshua’s mind. It meant letting the other keep this secret, understanding no hurt or harm would come from demanding nothing in return as collateral. He owed Neku that much, at least.

Quickening the pace of his strokes, Joshua arched off the back of the chair with a heavy exhale, warmth trickling down his spine from pleasure and exhilaration. He was pressed close enough he could practically feel the vibration from Neku’s moans, could watch how his eyelashes fluttered, how he bit his bottom lip near the corners and not the middle. Joshua shifted his hips up, rubbing his thumb over the head of the other’s cock, and earned a soft whine in response. Neku rocked forward when Joshua repeated the motion, clutching at feathers and bone helplessly, breath coming in heavy pants.

He tipped his head back, shivering, a hitched moan escaping him when he felt Neku’s lips on his throat, sucking over his Adam’s apple. The kisses were sloppy, fervent, broken up by shivers and quiet groans, and Joshua slid his free hand up into the other’s hair, carding his fingers through it. Neku spread his legs wider, until they were pressed against the armrests of the chair, the snap of his hips becoming more erratic. He leaned up enough to press their lips together, hot and desperate, nipping and moaning sharply into Joshua’s mouth.

It was electric, almost too much, wings trembling right down to the tips from the pleasure tingling all across his skin. Neku’s hands pressed flat against the breadth of the feathers, a momentary pause and warning before his entire body tensed and he came, hard and abrupt with a choked groan. He was fumbling against Joshua’s wings, fingers trying to dig in and find some kind of support, an anchor, as he rode out the orgasm. The sensation pushed Joshua right over the edge, pleasure racing white-hot down his spine to coil and snap in the pit of his stomach, and he was coming with a high gasp, nails pressing against the other’s scalp.

Through his daze in the aftermath, he was dimly aware of Neku slumping against him, murmuring something nonsensical. Joshua simply let his cheek rest on the crown of the other’s head, until his breathing evened out and the small room came back into focus. Neku was still stroking over his right wing, touch absent and soft, combing through the feathers as if to straighten them, the same as if he were smoothing down stray bits of hair.

“Didn’t know about that,” he said, finally. “The wing thing, I mean.”

“I didn’t either, if you’d believe that.” Joshua sighed, finally registering his hand was sticky and wet with come. He wrinkled his nose. “Can’t say I minded, though.”

“I have good ideas sometimes.” Neku laughed, finally lifting his head enough to peer up at Joshua. There were dozens more questions flickering across his features, but those, Joshua decided, could wait until later.

“Don’t act like you had this all figured out from the get-go.” He rolled his eyes, gently nudging Neku’s shoulder. “Now, if you’d be so kind to get off of me so we can get cleaned up…”

“Oh. Right.” Neku moved off the chair, pulling up his pants and underwear while Joshua looked for a box of tissues. “Um. Thanks. You know, for showing me your wings, and letting me touch them. Since you said no one really had before. That’s—m’glad you showed me.” Joshua glanced over his shoulder, curious and a little surprised. Maybe he should give Neku more credit for his constant questioning, as it seemed he did actually garner things from the answers. Hopefully, Joshua thought, with a return smile, he’d figure something else out from one more bit of truth.

“Sure. Anytime.”

Update

2012-06-08T19:04:09Z

Back home.
Job in Seattle looking slim to none.
Continued frustration on all fronts. Including the fact that my internet went kaput (it has something to do with the modum hardware and the company is being a little dickhead about it so I probably won't be back for a week or so).

I don't know what I'm going to do if I don't have something to keep me busy. Go crazy? I just...this has been a really tough past three months and it just keeps getting tougher. I can't catch a break.

Just thought you all would like to know what's going on. Take care.

Moves Make Up for the Silence [1/1]

2012-02-10T09:09:11Z

Title: Moves Make Up for the Silence [1/1]
Author: Melly
Rating: MA/NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Neku/Joshua (that order, ladies and gents!)
Warnings: Language, explicit sexual situations
Summary: High School AU. Joshua makes things clear in very unorthodox ways.
A/N: Necktie bondage porn. Yeah, I don’t know either. Enjoy!

It was ten minutes before the bell, two-thirds of the class already zoned out and throwing longing glances to the mild fall weather outside the window. As nice as it looked, Joshua had other plans for that afternoon and, shifting his attention from the bright red leaves coating the grass of the quad, furtively slipped his phone out from his pocket. He’d long since mastered the skill of typing without looking at the keypad, and kept his eyes fixed on the open textbook in front of him, seemingly engrossed in the subject matter, while his thumb moved deftly over the buttons of his cell, held subtly under the desk.

I found out something interesting today. He hit send and waited, eyes flicking over to Neku, sitting caddy-corner and a row ahead of him. Joshua saw the other’s shoulders tense before his hand moved to retrieve his phone, and after reading the message, shot a quick glare over his shoulder. Joshua only gave him the slightest of smiles in return. Neku turned away, the hard jerk of his gestures relaying his annoyance very clearly, but a minute later, Joshua felt his own phone vibrate, alerting him to a new text.

What? Shaking his head at how the bite of the single word was nearly tangible, Joshua composed a new reply.

Did you know there’s an old lab room around that no one ever uses? Apparently, the committees can’t decide how to renovate it, so it just stays empty.

Your point? The response came quickly, although it was hard to tell if that was because Neku was genuinely curious, or he was trying to brush Joshua off. Considering his posture was still stiff, it was likely the latter.

Do you want to meet me there after class? There was an underlying suggestion, invitation, that Neku would assuredly pick up on. They’d been at the whole rendezvous in supply closets and vacant classrooms long enough, after all.

No. Something about the way Neku was now hunched over in his seat that made Joshua think there had been a pause in his typing between the first and second parts of his text. I think we should stop.

Why?

Because this has gone on too long already. More was buried in that, Joshua knew, since he was certain it had nothing to do with Neku becoming uninterested or distracted. Oh, well, with two minutes left in class, it wasn’t the time for prying. That could be left until later.

What if I said I was going to let you do something fun and different?

That’s not what I meant. The bell rang, shrill and protracted, but fading out as the murmur of student conversation turned into a dull roar. Joshua put his books away before standing and slinging his messenger bag over his shoulder, sending one last text before he merged with the crowd spilling out into the hallways.

Just go to the last classroom on the left in the lab section of the science building.

Outside, the day was downright picturesque, sunny with a gentle breeze and students mingled in pairs and larger groups, taking full advantage of the weather. Which meant, of course, everywhere else was practically deserted, including the disused lab room Joshua slipped into, unnoticed. He hung the strap of his bag and blazer on one of the hooks near the door before taking a cursory look around the place. It seemed they still cleaned it once in a while, since it was surprisingly free of dust. There were, however, no chairs or stools to be found, so Joshua hoisted himself up onto one of the tables, perching on the edge, heel tapping lightly in staccato against the sides as he waited.

Soon enough, the silence was cut by the noise of shuffling footsteps out in the hall, followed by the high squeal of the door’s hinges as it swung open. Neku stalled in the entryway, hand still lingering on the doorknob as his gaze fell on Joshua.

“Lock that behind you.”

“No.” Neku shook his head, fingers drumming restlessly against the speakers of the headphones that hung around his neck. “Look, I didn’t want to talk about this over a text. That’s why I came here.”

“You can still close and lock the door for privacy,” Joshua said. “And stop acting like I’m going to bite.”

“Sometimes, it’s hard to tell what you’ll do.” Despite the grumbling, Neku finally relented and did as asked, before setting his things down and casting a quick look around the room. “How the hell did you know about this place, anyway?”

“Through the grapevine.” He shrugged, noncommittally. “But you wanted to talk? Or have you changed your mind and want to go along with my original plan?”

“Talk, but I—” Neku exhaled slowly, rubbing the side of his hand against his forehead. “Why are we doing this, Josh?”

“Why?” Joshua echoed. That wasn’t exactly the question he expected. “It’s fun. Why else?”

“Fun. Right.” His tone was clipped, edged with something that sounded almost like dejection. “Thought so.”

“That’s a problem for you?”

“Problem? You—you don’t get it, do you?” Neku’s eyes narrowed, looking furious and pent up enough that Joshua tightened his grip on the edge of the table to brace for an explosion. “Fun isn’t always good enough.”

“You want it to be more?” Joshua asked, and Neku seemed to deflate under the candidness of the question. He looked exactly as he did at the very start of their trysts, when he had waited for Joshua to finish practicing piano, all nervousness and conflict like he had something planned out to say, but ended up kissing Joshua against his locker instead.

“No. Maybe. It doesn’t matter.” Neku moved towards the door, ducking his head. “I just—M’gonna go.”

“Neku.” He stopped, but wouldn’t turn back around and Joshua sighed, wondering why all of this had to be so difficult. The fact that he had managed to hold Joshua’s attention for so long should have been telling enough, but Neku apparently needed a better reassurance. Although Joshua already felt routinely and inexplicably exposed around Neku—simply by virtue of him being Neku, but that was the point, wasn’t it?—that he would have go about this carefully. “Are you sure you’re not curious about what I was going to let you do?”

“Something tells me I’m not going to get out of this room until I hear it.” He was glaring like he hoped he could set Joshua on fire by his stare alone. “So sure. Why the hell not?”

Joshua giggled, drawing one of his hands slowly up his chest before hooking his index finger in the knot of his uniform tie. Neku followed the motion intently, attention now entirely fixed on Joshua’s neck.

“Do you remember the last time we did this, and you complained I was too loud?” He pulled at the cloth, just enough to let some fabric slide loose.

“I—uh, not complaining,” Neku muttered, embarrassed. “Just that we could get caught if we’re heard.”

“Even still.” Joshua pulled the whole thing loose, absently smoothing out the wrinkles against his palm. “These make for decent impromptu gags.”

“I—you want me to—with that?”

“Yes. And tie me up, since you have one too.” He crossed his ankles, leaning forward and smiling. “Told you it would be something different. What, does the idea not appeal to you?”

“It’s not that, I’m just kind of wondering why. Why now?”

“Goodness, Neku, I make a big display of showing how much I trust you with this and you’re not even appreciative.” Joshua pouted, more out of enticement rather than real petulance, and watched Neku’s expression change as understanding finally hit him.

“You can’t ever be straightforward, can you?” There was a small flash of a smile before Neku strode over to the table and fisted his hands in the collar of Joshua’s dress shirt, yanking him up into a kiss. The force was surprising, but not unwelcome, and Joshua returned it, shifting so he could wrap his legs around Neku’s waist. His lips parted, and he dropped the tie somewhere beside him on the tabletop as he pressed forward insistently. Not needing any more prompting, Neku delved his tongue inside, flicking it against the roof of Joshua’s mouth, starting to pick open the buttons of his shirt. The touch was warm, heavy, Neku’s hands roaming around to stroke and knead the small of Joshua’s back before skimming up the shallow dip of his spine.

Joshua shivered, a slight tremor, but Neku could probably feel it from the way he responded, tilting his head down to trail his lips over the line of Joshua’s jaw. It was cute, almost, how reactions from him always seemed to spur Neku on further, but Joshua was quite happy to indulge him a little. He curled his hand around the back of Neku’s head, fingers carding through auburn hair stiff with gel, and pressed the other closer, moaning softly when the kisses turned openmouthed and wet.

“Hey. Could you…?” Neku trailed off, apparently distracted by the need to suck at the pulse in Joshua’s throat.

“Could I what, dear?” Joshua hummed, the sound of it deepening into a pleased groan at the suction.

“You said you wanted to be tied up, so, I dunno. Put your arms closer together or something.” Laughing, Joshua complied with the suggestion, shrugging out of his loosened shirt before crossing his wrists behind his back.

Neku retrieved the tie, reaching around Joshua in a loose embrace to fasten the cloth. Joshua inclined his head up enough to scrape his teeth lightly over the patch of skin just behind Neku’s ear, giggling when he felt the other’s hands slip. Running his tongue along the shell of it earned him a string of curses, but the binds around his wrists finally pulled tight and secure. Skating his fingers along Joshua’s arms, Neku shifted back for a kiss, hungry and hard enough to bruise. Joshua briefly tested the integrity of his restraints, tugging at them lightly to make sure they wouldn’t come undone, before focusing entirely on the slow strokes of Neku’s tongue against his own.

Breaks for air were sporadic and short, kisses punctured with bites and high gasps, both of Neku’s hands tangled firmly in Joshua’s hair, fingers combing through it like he couldn’t get enough of the feel, and Joshua tilted his head back, knees pressing against the other’s sides. He felt Neku’s thumb rub firmly against a spot just above the nape of his neck, letting out a quiet sound of want that shifted into an irritated huff when Neku pulled away.

He was panting as he scrambled to pull off his own tie, lips swollen and glistening with saliva. It was a good look on him, disheveled and wanting, and Joshua thought there was little more satisfying than knowing he could get Neku as he was, even bound.

“You still sure about this?” Neku asked, even as he yanked the tie free from his collar.

“Yes. Completely.” Joshua shifted impatiently, trying not to lean forward too far, lest he lose his balance and tip over onto the floor. He opened his mouth in anticipation, but Neku seemed to falter, staring down at the cloth in his hand.

“Wait, wait—what if I do something you don’t like?” His gaze flicked up to Joshua’s face, pupils still lust-blown, but overlaid with concern. “How will you let me know?”

“I’ll kick you,” Joshua said, smiling blithely, before the fact that silly Neku was actually worried about him made him add, “but really, I’ll be sure to get your attention.”

“You’re an ass, you know that?”

“And you still love me.” Neku didn’t respond, except to roll his eyes and hold up the tie, setting it into place when Joshua opened his mouth again. The taste was a little bitter and off-putting, but otherwise the makeshift gag was acceptable, and Joshua nodded to let Neku know he was fine.

“It’ll be weird not hearing you,” he murmured, before shifting down to lick over Joshua’s collarbone, hands wandering along his chest and stomach, Joshua arching forward when Neku’s fingers dipped under the hem of his pants, rubbing over his hipbones. It was when Neku opened the fastening and pulled down the zipper that Joshua realized the position they were in wasn’t the best, and wriggled away slightly, making a stifled noise of protest. “What? I don’t—hey!”

Joshua slid himself off the table, managing to remain upright well enough once Neku caught him by the shoulder. Turning around, he leaned over the table, head where his shirt still lay rumpled. He would really have preferred something with more cushion, but Joshua supposed they would have to make do. Neku caught on quickly, murmuring something under his breath Joshua didn’t catch, and leaned over to pepper kisses across Joshua’s shoulder blades and lower, passing over his bound arms. When he started nipping in places, teeth grazing over sensitive points that caused Joshua moan heavily, sound muffled by the gag. The sting was enough to assure there would be marks there, love bites in a place only Neku would know about—surprisingly possessive, but then again, Neku always tended to be surprising.

Joshua toed off his shoes and socks when he felt his pants and underwear bunch around his calves after Neku slid them mostly down. He carefully stepped out of the crumpled pile of clothing, the air of the lab room cool against his bare skin. He expected to be touched again soon after he had stopped squirming, but nothing came, and making a dampened, irritated noise, Joshua turned his head enough to see behind him, only to find Neku was just staring.

“I—fuck, Josh.” The words were on the very edge of a moan. Deciding to play it up, Joshua arched his back, standing on the balls of his feet to allow Neku a better view of his ass and cock, letting out a needy noise in the back of his throat. He almost laughed when Neku turned to find wherever the lube and condoms were in their bags, working the button of his pants while trying to walk at the same time.

After a minute or two, he felt Neku’s hands on his thighs, squeezing lightly and nudging his legs further apart, followed by the sound of a cap snapping open. Joshua jerked up when he felt the first finger enter him, mostly because Neku forgot to warm up the lube again, but he relaxed quickly, pressing his hips back. It was going too slowly for Joshua’s liking, probably because Neku was trying harder to gauge if he was eliciting an unfavorable reaction, but throwing him a desperate, wanting look from half-lidded eyes did the trick, and Neku was soon rolling on a condom and clutching at Joshua’s hips.

“You’re good?” A nod was all it took for him to start pushing in, Joshua’s breath coming in sharp inhales through his nose. Neku paused when he was fully sheathed, Joshua emitting low moan, because oh was he deep but he wasn’t moving, dammit Neku—

He clenched his muscles, hearing the other let out a string of breathless swears, hips snapping back and then forward again. The angle was a little uncomfortable, Joshua’s shoulders tight and burning, but it hardly mattered, especially when Neku shifted just enough that his thrusts hit a spot that sent pleasure spiking, white-hot and electric, up Joshua’s spine. He was making fervent, muffled noises through the gag, muscles in his legs starting to shake, and he glanced back at Neku, hoping the way he was sure his cheeks were flushed and eyes darkened would tacitly convey the command of more.

Neku wrapped one arm around his waist, partly for support and partly to curl his hand around Joshua’s cock, strokes slow and drawn out. He leaned down enough that his face was buried in the hair that spilled over Joshua’s back.

“Shit. Don’t—”Joshua could feel Neku’s breath, hot on his skin with every panting exhale. “M’gonna lose it if you keep looking at me like that. Fuck, Joshua.”

He would have laughed, had he been able to pull enough air into his lungs. As it was, Joshua only rolled his hips back, rhythm a little uneven, thighs trembling with pleasure and the effort. The lack of true leverage suddenly made the fact he was practically helpless very sharp and real, but the blip of panic faded once Joshua returned his focus to the way Neku filled him, felt against him, the soft, keening moans falling past his lips.

The hand around Joshua’s cock tightened, and he bucked into the touch, heat coiling tightly in the pit of his stomach. He gave a strangled whine—close—almost writhing, before Neku bit down sharply at the very top of his spine and the sound rose into a scream, thankfully muted by the gag, as he came. He shuddered, warmth pulsing and pricking along his nerves, Neku still thrusting into him.

“—Oh God, Josh, J-J-oh-sh.” He would never get tired of the rush that accompanied hearing his name spoken in that unabashedly reverent and pleasure-drenched tone of voice, and it didn’t take long before he could feel Neku spasm, coming with a choked groan.

Even with his chest heaving and breath ragged, Neku immediately pulled apart the knot holding the bonds around Joshua’s wrists, freeing his arms. Rolling his shoulders to get out the kinks, Joshua reached up to pull off the gag, mouth dry and sore.

“Mm.” He twitched at the feeling of Neku sliding out of him and turned around to lean his back tiredly against the edge of the table.

“You okay?” Neku asked, dropping the tied condom into the trash by one of the shelves. Joshua nodded, working the stiffness out of his jaw. It ached, as his arms did, and the discomfort would hit him harder tomorrow, but at that moment, he simply felt pleasantly raw. “Really?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Just checking.” Neku shrugged, looking at him critically for a moment, before bending down to locate where he tossed his pants. Joshua cleaned himself up, as well as any streaks of come still on the table, and was in the process of buttoning his shirt when Neku spoke again. “Before we did…all this, what you said, does that mean we’re, you know…?”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Joshua said, innocently, smoothing down his mussed hair. Neku’s eyes narrowed a fraction, red up to his ears from embarrassment and the lingering flush of arousal.

“Not just fuck buddies?”

“With romantic words like that, it’s a wonder you aren’t sweeping half the school off their feet, Neku.” Giggling, Joshua shook out any wrinkles from his slacks before sliding them back on. Neku was far less amused, exhaling sharply in frustration, arms folded. “Do I really have to spell everything out? I just let you have your way with me while I was tied and gagged, trusting you not to do anything I didn’t like, or even simply leave me there, helpless. That’s a privilege only you have, which I’d like to think is answer enough.”

“You could have just said, ‘no, we’re dating,’ asshole.” Neku looked caught between aggravation and relief, but he reached out for Joshua’s hand regardless.

“I could have.” He shrugged, letting their fingers lace together loosely. “But this way was more interesting.”

“Right.” Neku sighed, reaching over to snatch one of the ties off the tabletop. “Ugh, was this the one in your mouth?”

“And there’s something wrong with that?”

“It’s…wet.” He wrinkled his nose.

“You don’t have to wear it right now.” Joshua picked up the other one, noticing it was wrinkled severely enough that it would look strange if he put it on. “Oh, well. Shall we go? I’m thirsty after all that.”

“Yeah. Good idea.” They paused to pick up their things by the door, and Neku shot Joshua a strange, vaguely accusatory look over his shoulder as he stuffed the tie in his bag. Joshua merely quirked an eyebrow, implicitly asking him to explain.

“I’m never going to look at one of these the same, thanks to you.”

A/N: Ahahahahahaha….I have no excuse for this. At all. Fun, though! Title comes from the song “Of All the Gin Joints in the World” by Fall Out Boy.

Glossy [2/?]

2012-02-05T09:26:57Z

Title: Glossy [2/?]
Author: Melly
Rating: Eventual MA/NC-17, kinda just PG-13 for now
Characters/Pairings: Joshua/Neku (main), Shiki/Eri, and Uzuki/Kariya.
Warnings: Language, eventual sexual situations, and alcohol use.
Spoilers: It’s an AU so not really? Except for the appearance of a certain someone you learn about in week 1, that is.
Summary: Model AU. All Neku wanted was a raise, but the so-called promotion from barista to assistant for a snobby, irritating, enigmatic model is one he could do without.
A/N: Ahh this took longer to get out than I wanted it to. Sorry for the wait, and thanks everyone for the comments and support. Enjoy!

Part 1

A text woke up Neku half an hour before his alarm did. He barely had time to fumble for his phone on bedside table and blearily peer at the screen before another followed. Resignedly, he sat up in bed, rubbing at his eyes and trying to will some clarity into his sleep-fogged mind. Both messages were from Mr. H, the first saying something about sending a schedule and a car coming over at nine to pick him up, and the second being the schedule in question.

A car? He got a chauffeur? Well, technically Joshua got one, but Neku seemed to be allowed to use his services to run errands, if the little note of be sure to get coffee and pastries @ La Maison above the first appointment of the day was any indication. Sighing, he set his phone aside and got up, not sure if moving from barista to delivery boy was actually an improvement. Regardless, he finished his morning routine, pausing only to grab his bag, and headed out of the apartment building with enough time to spare. A sleek black car was already parked across from the entrance, the diver leaning against the passenger-side door, checking his watch.

“Um. Hey.” Neku, feeling more than a little awkward, raised his arm in a slight wave to get the other’s attention.

“Oh, hello!” The driver instantly stood up straighter, offering his hand. “You must be Mr. Sakuraba. I’m your chauffeur, Makoto Miki, but most people just call me Mick. Very nice to meet you.”

“Same here… and you can just call me Neku.” He shook Mick’s hand quickly, noticing he looked a little startled at the suggestion of informality.

“Right. Where to this morning?”

“The schedule says something about a place called La Maison, but I have no idea where that is…” Neku checked his phone, just to make sure an address wasn’t included in the text.

“I do! No worries, Mr. Saku—er, Neku, sir.” Mick’s eagerness was downright overwhelming, and Neku was starting to feel uncomfortable. He could only hope the driver would relax a little over time, as unlikely as that seemed. “Just get in back and we’ll be there in no time.”

Neku did as suggested, settling down onto the plush leather seats and turning his head to peer out the window, watching the scenery roll by as they started to drive. He wasn’t one-hundred percent awake yet, the ride a blur until they rolled to a stop in front of a small café with a door painted sky blue and tables set outside, empty because of the cold. Neku slipped out of the car and quickly made his way into the shop, feeling a little better in the warmth of the interior, the smell of fresh bread and coffee washing over him. He realized that he had no idea what to get once he was standing in front of the counter, but he figured he could take his chances. First day, after all, so they had to cut him a little slack.

Once he was back in the car with the drinks and a pastry wrapped up in a white paper bag, Neku checked his phone, seeing that pick up Joshua was next. Relaying that information to Mick, he scrolled down a bit more, seeing an additional note of, text him if he’s not out by the time you’re there, followed by a cell number, which Neku grudgingly made a new contact for.

Fortunately, Joshua was standing outside by the time they pulled up, not looking impatient or irritated, so Neku supposed they were on time. He slid into the seat next to Neku without comment, giving a clipped smile to Mick when he chirped, “good morning Mr. Kiryu.” Wordlessly, Neku held out the coffee cup and pastry to Joshua, who raised an eyebrow before taking them.

“How did you know what to get me?” He asked, finally.

“I didn’t.” Neku shrugged, taking a long sip of his own drink.

“So you guessed? That’s not the way to make a good impression on your first day.” Joshua made a soft tsk noise, shaking his head, but Neku didn’t miss the way he was smirking. Asshole. “What is this, then?”

“You ordered a caramel macchiato yesterday, figured I couldn’t go wrong with that and a danish.”

“What sort—oh, blueberry.” Joshua made a face when he peered into the bag. “Well, since this is your first day, and I’m feeling generous, I suppose I can let this slide. Just remember I like apple next time.”

“What was I supposed to do, read your mind?” He glared over the rim of his cup, trying to convince himself that getting help from Eri and Shiki last night wouldn’t have made a difference. It wasn’t like magazine blurbs said what kind of danish the models liked, right? “You can’t expect me to—”

“Um. Neku, sir.” Mick cleared his throat. “I hate to interrupt, but you haven’t said where we’re going.”

“I—oh, sorry. Uh.” He scrolled through his phone quickly. “The Dragon Couture studios?”

“Roger.”

“You might’ve done that before we started driving.” Joshua tucked a bit of hair behind his ear, looking so impossibly smug Neku sustained a brief fantasy of pushing him out of the moving car. “Of course, you’re new, and I was told to expect you’d make mistakes. Lucky I’m so patient…”

“Any other requests, your highness?”

“You could keep calling me that.” He giggled, and Neku felt he might crack a molar from how hard he was grinding his teeth. “Has a nice ring to it.”

“Not a chance.” Shaking his head, Neku opted to finish his coffee and stare pointedly out the window, covering a small yawn with the back of his hand a minute later.

“Not a morning person?” Joshua couldn’t just leave him alone, could he?

“No,” Neku mumbled. “Mornings kind of suck.” Especially the one he was currently experiencing, but he decided not to mention that.

A short while later, they pulled up in front of a sleek, modern building, the glass doors imprinted with the logo of a green and red dragon winding around the handles. Neku said a quick thank you to Mick, who informed him the car would be back around at the end of the day when the shoot was done.

Following Joshua inside, Neku took a quick look around, noticing more dragon-themed décor, but considering the brand in question, he wasn’t exactly surprised. A secretary clicked away at a computer behind the desk directly across from the entrance, and after a pointed, irritated look from Joshua, Neku realized he was supposed to say something about their arrival.

“Hello?” He ventured.

“Yes, how can I help you?” The secretary barely spared him a glance.

“We’re here for a shoot.”

“We?” She turned away from her desktop finally, giving Neku an once-over, skepticism blatant.

“I mean—I’m not.” Obviously. “I’m Joshua Kiryu’s assistant, and—”

“Oh!” The secretary stood, smiling pleasantly now. “We’ve been expecting you. One moment please.” She fiddled with the Bluetooth headset on her left ear and started speaking to someone out of the room. Neku shoved his hands in his pockets, eyes fixed on the tiles and trying to convince himself he imagined hearing a soft, lilting laugh behind him when he had said Joshua Kiryu’s assistant. A few minutes later and another woman, carrying a clipboard, emerged from one of the rooms hidden behind a jutting wall on the right side of the foyer. She paused when she finally got within speaking distance, only long enough to say a quick greeting before neatly pivoting back around and motioning for them to follow.

“I’m sorry for the rush,” she said as they walked. “If we want to get everything in, it has to meet a tight schedule. But I can’t tell you enough how lucky we feel to have you working with us, Mr. Kiryu.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Joshua replied smoothly, and Neku checked the urge to roll his eyes. Should have expected he was the kind of person able to turn on charm like a light switch.

“Well, the head photographer is doing some last minute lighting adjustments, so we’ll just get you into makeup.” The woman’s heels clicked as they went along a wide hallway, a smattering of crew workers and other models roaming about. She stopped at a door near the end of the corridor, Neku spotting the bright shine of stage lights around the corner, before unlocking it and ushering them inside. “The artists will be here in a few minutes. Just have a seat in front of the mirror, and if you need anything at all just tell your assistant, and he’ll relay it to us.” Neku was handed a small white business card with a cell number printed on it, which he tucked into his pocket.

After she left, Neku sunk down onto one of the plush chairs scattered about, looking over at the mirror on the adjacent wall, the table in front of it littered with brushes, bottles, thick white sponges, jars, and cases. Joshua seemed content to sit and flip through a magazine for the time being, so Neku thought it might be safe to take out his sketchbook, for just a little while.

“You draw?” He had barely gotten the vague outline of something down—twisted and dragon like, taking influence from all the decoration—when Joshua spoke up.

“Oh, yeah.” Neku shrugged one shoulder. “I do.”

“Just a hobby, or do you want to go to school for it?”

“I did go to school for it, actually.” He tapped the eraser of his pencil against the corner of the paper. He wasn’t sure what to make of Joshua’s curiosity, or what to make of himself answering everything freely. “For a year, and then I just—it wasn’t my thing.”

“I see.” Joshua hummed, thoughtfully, whatever he was going to say next lost in a brief burst of noise from a set of make-up artists entering the room. They paid no mind to Neku and went straight to work, Joshua settling back in his chair and letting them apply whatever they needed to, expression relaxed.

“You seem used to this.” He was starting to think that maybe he should take a little of Shiki and Eri’s advice if he didn’t want to be miserable. If he could learn enough about Joshua to make his life easier, that was all he needed.

“I’ve done it enough,” Joshua said lightly. “After a while, anything becomes wrote.”

“How long is a while?”

“You’ve become curious all of a sudden.” Joshua’s eyes slid closed as one of the artists swiped something over the lids.

“You started it,” Neku muttered. “And it’s a simple question.” Before Joshua could answer, or perhaps evade the inquiry entirely, one of the makeup artists interjected.

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but I need you to stop talking for just a minute, Mr. Kiryu.” He did as requested and Neku watched the artist, out of the corner of his eye, start to apply some sort of smoothing, lightly tinted balm. He noticed for the first time that Joshua’s lower lip was fuller than the upper one, pouty, the slow stroke of the angled makeup brush drawing attention to it, and Neku found himself staring.

“Three years.”

“I—what?” Neku jerked back, startled, nearly dropping his sketchbook. He hadn’t registered that the artists were finished, starting to pack up all the tools and supplies.

“How long I’ve been modeling.” Joshua stood out of his chair. “I have to go get changed for the shoot, but I’m sure you can find your own way out to where it will be.”

“Yeah, sure.” He sighed, wondering just how boring modeling shoots actually were to watch.

“You could stand to look a little more cheerful, you know.” The corners of Joshua’s mouth quirked up into a sly, amused smile, and Neku found his attention drawn to the other’s lips again--shit was this going to keep happening? “Not like you’re undergoing torture, here.”

Could’ve fooled me, Neku thought, but muttered quick, “see you out there” in response instead, procuring his sketchbook and bag before moving out into the hall, the door closing behind him with a soft click. It wasn’t even noon and he was exhausted.

So much for taking it easy on the first day.

****

To say Joshua was less than enthused to be getting an assistant would be an understatement. He expected someone fawning or professional and all too boring, but what he got instead was one Neku Sakuraba, who was neither of those things, and a thousand times more interesting for it. Sanae sometimes managed to surprise him in good ways, and he supposed this was one of those occasions. Where his agent found these people, Joshua never knew, but he certainly had a knack for it. But despite the plus of his new assistant being someone worth his while, Joshua still liked things done right, and in that regard Neku was a little lacking.

“You didn’t tell the driver to be back by lunchtime?” The street was unusually empty, and Joshua slipped his hands into the pockets of his coat to stave off the cold.

“Was I supposed to?” Neku looked back at him, blankly.

“Yes. Unless you ask the crew to get something to eat, but by now it might be too late.” He heaved a sigh, feigning more dejection than he actually felt, just to watch Neku twitch with barely veiled annoyance. “I’m practically starving too, since someone messed up my breakfast.”

“I—okay, fine.” Neku folded his arms, glancing towards the end of the block for a moment. “I think I might know a good ramen place around here…if, you know, you’re not above walking and food that isn’t caviar on fucking toast, that is.” Joshua just laughed, which seemed to grate on Neku further.

“Sure. I love ramen, actually.”

“Right.” With a shake of his head, he started walking, not bothering to look behind him to see if Joshua actually followed.

“I hope you know where you’re going.” He fell in step behind Neku, peering very quickly down at his watch. “We do have to be back in a little more than an hour.”

“I’m not gonna get lost,” Neku grumbled, shoulders visibly tensing. “I can’t believe how many pictures of a single outfit they have to take, anyway.”

“Well, there’s going to be a new set after the break.” Joshua shrugged. “Despite who you’re working for, you don’t seem all that enthused about fashion.”

“You should know Mr. H just kind of…sprung it on me.” Neku turned the corner, stopping after a few more steps to peer up at a sign. “Anyway, here we are. Told you it wasn’t far.”

“Good job, you were right.” Joshua pushed open the door, throwing Neku a teasing smile over his shoulder. “Do you want a reward for your efforts?”

“No, I—” He heard Neku let out a hiss of frustration, before he thought better of retorting and fell silent. It wasn’t until they were seated with their food that Joshua decided to speak up again.

“So if you’re not into the fashion world, why did you take this job?”

“Why does anyone take a job involving something they don’t like?” Neku glanced up from his bowl, warily. “The money.”

“Then what is it you’d rather be doing?” Joshua plucked a bamboo shoot out with his chopsticks idly. “Something involving art, I’d wager.”

“Yeah.” Neku’s eyebrows furrowed. “What’s with all the questions?”

“I can’t get to know my new assistant better?” He tilted his head to the side, the picture of innocent curiosity, but Neku’s apprehensive expression didn’t waver. “Honestly, Neku, I’m just making conversation.” He didn’t reply, and a silence stretched out between them, long enough that Joshua was about to return to his meal when Neku shifted in his seat, bringing one hand up to curl around the shell of his ear. The gesture, done out of nervousness or contemplation, was endearing, and Joshua didn’t bother to hide his amusement.

“Something with art, is the thing,” Neku said, finally.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean—in school, I did okay, I guess, but I didn’t know what I was doing with it. Nothing was what I wanted, and it was so…” He struggled for the right word, eyes darting over to the window. “…boring.”

“Really?” It seemed the other was full of surprises. Joshua felt a small tug of connection at that. “That’s the reason I choose not to be famous.”

“You chose that?” Neku’s voice was dripping with derision, but Joshua just giggled, pausing to eat a small mouthful of noodles.

“Why else do you think I work for such a small agency? I could branch out if I wanted to, but what’s the fun in that?” He gestured vaguely with the hand not holding his chopsticks. “You get trapped when everyone knows who you are. Isn’t it better to be able to do whatever you want to?”

“Yeah, I guess…I guess I can understand that.” Neku’s frown eased into something out of confusion rather than exasperation, gazing unwaveringly at Joshua like there was some puzzle in his eyes and appearance to solve. “Huh.”

“Goodness, I might be a model, but if you keep looking at me like that, I’ll start blushing.” He laughed again when Neku immediately turned his head away, muttering something under his breath that sounded quite like jackass.

Oh, this was going to be fun.

A/N: Whew. This was also longer than I expected. Small note on the name of the café. La Maison literally means “the house/home” in French, but I read that this can be a common name for small places of business that have that cozy, quaint, hole-in-the-wall feel to them. Don’t know if I’m right, because sources on the internet can be fishy, but the name works either way, I think. Also, I hope some of you are amused at who I made to be the chauffeur. Things will come of that.

Saw this, thought it would be neat

2012-01-23T09:03:59Z

Pretend for a minute that the only contact you have ever had with me is through my fic. We've never exchanged LJ/DW comments or emails, never hung out in chat or on YM/AIM, never talked on the phone or met each other in person, none of that stuff. The only thing you know about me is the kind of fic I write.

What kind of person would you think I am? How would you describe my attitudes and opinions about real-life issues? Or, to use the rephrased question: Based on the way I write my characters, and the way they speak, think, and behave, what would that say to you about me?

Go for it! Fic index is right here

Glossy [1/?]

2012-01-02T06:51:06Z

Title: Glossy [1/?]
Author: Melly
Rating: Eventual MA/NC-17, kinda just PG-13 for now
Characters/Pairings: Joshua/Neku (main), Shiki/Eri, and Uzuki/Kariya.
Warnings: Language, eventual sexual situations, and alcohol use.
Spoilers: It’s an AU so not really? Except for the appearance of a certain someone you learn about in week 1, that is.
Summary: Model AU. All Neku wanted was a raise, but the so-called promotion from barista to assistant for a snobby, irritating, enigmatic model is one he could do without.
A/N: For measuringlife for the Secret Santa, since she loves AUs even more than I do. This should be fun. Enjoy!

It was the lull in the day when it was too early for the high school students to be out of class, but too late for even the longest sleeper to want their usual jolt of caffeine. Neku used this time to sketch, mostly, but he’d been staring at a blank page for the past half-hour and was close to giving up. Mr. H would be around soon anyway.

It took a lot for Neku to bring up the topic of a raise, since, despite some of the oddities, he’d be hard pressed to find a boss more easygoing than Mr. H, but he felt he deserved a little more cash for holding down the early morning rush all by himself. Thankfully, Mr. H had just clapped him on the back and said, “ ‘course! I’ll see what I can do.” It was a wonder what his boss did when he wasn’t in the café, but Neku wasn’t one to pry, and so long as he could keep his job, he left it alone.

The bell at the front of the shop rang, and Neku glanced up from his sketchbook, a little taken aback when he realized it wasn’t Mr. H. The guy didn’t look like the normal teenager or sleepy college student or odd tourist that normally came through, either. He was dressed in a black pea coat and dark jeans, all designer, something Neku only recognized through osmosis from two of his far more fashion conscious friends. But a customer was a customer.

“Uh. So what can I get you?” Neku slid his sketchbook under the counter and approached the register in an attempt to look like he was at least halfway working.

“Sanae.”

“Huh?”

“Sanae,” the other repeated, less patiently, unwrapping his jade green scarf and tossing it casually over the back of a chair. “He apparently owns this place.”

“Do you mean Mr. H—er, Hanekoma?” Neku leaned one elbow on the countertop, eyebrows furrowing.

“Yes. I need to talk with him—he told me to meet him here, for whatever reason.” Jerkass, as Neku decided to dub him, finally took his sunglasses off and set them aside, tapping a finger to his lips as he peered up at the menu. “And I’d like a caramel macchiato too. You can put it on my tab.”

“Your tab?” Neku stepped back from the register, folding his arms. “Look, I don’t know what the hell you expect from a hole-in-the-wall coffee joint, but there aren’t any tabs.”

“Of course not. That’s why I’m asking you to open one.” Jerkass waved his hand, flippantly. “Since Sanae isn’t here yet, I thought I could have a drink while I wait. I don’t assume you’re paid to sit around, you know.”

“I’m not.” He grit his teeth, thinking that punching customers in the face, no matter how they acted, wasn’t a good idea. “I can’t just open a tab for you, or whatever. This isn’t a bar.” The other made no retort except to stare back at Neku, his head tilted slightly in puzzlement. Neku wasn’t sure how much he liked the scrutiny; Jerkass had distinct, otherworldly violet eyes, making the searching gaze twice as unsettling. But after a moment or two, he shifted his attention to the window and gave off a high and lilting laugh.

“My, you’re difficult. Can’t this be done as a favor, then?”

“No,” Neku said, flatly. “Give me one good reason why.”

“Not even if I say please?” The other’s smile curved into something a little more winning, but Neku wouldn’t—didn’t—fall for it. Did he really think a pretty face would get him anything he wanted?

Luckily, the bell announcing someone else entering the café saved Neku from anymore of the frustrating exchange. Mr. H had arrived, finally, pausing near the doorway.

“Well, hey, you’re both here! That makes things easier.” Laughing, he moved to slip behind the counter.

“Easier?” Neku echoed, a little bewildered. “What—?”

“Sorry I couldn’t meet you for lunch, Josh. I thought this would be better in person.” Mr. H gave a bit of an apologetic shrug, addressing Jerkass—Josh? Joshua?—rather than Neku.

“What would be better in person, Sanae?”

“Meeting your new assistant, ‘course.” He jerked his thumb in Neku’s direction which…had to be a mistake. It had to.

“My…assistant?” Joshua seemed less horrified, but just as perplexed.

“I’m just your agent after all, boss. You can’t keep sending me out on errands for you.” He gestured noncommittally. “And Neku here wanted a promotion so I figured, why not kill two birds with one stone?”

“Whoa, wait, no. I asked for a raise. As in I still worked here. You never said anything about being some assistant.”

“It slipped my mind.” Mr. H rubbed the back of his neck, a little sheepishly. “S’not hard being a model’s assistant—”

“He’s a model?” It explained some things, if Neku thought about it, but at that point, logic didn’t seem to be all that important. “And you said—you’re his agent?”

“Ah, yeah, this café is just kinda a pet project of mine.” Mr. H patted Neku’s shoulder lightly. “Listen, you can think about it, but it does pay way better than the job you got now. If that’s any incentive.”

It was a big one, and Mr. H probably knew that. Heaving a resigned sigh, and feeling like he might as well be signing over his very soul, Neku slowly and minutely nodded. A second later and he heard a quiet giggle, glancing up to see Joshua looking back at him, amusement blatant.

“So,” he said, twisting a bit of hair around his index finger. “About that coffee…”

*****

As much as Neku felt like going straight home and crawling into a hole, he had promised to treat his friends to dinner as celebration over what he anticipated to be a good raise. So much for that.

Shiki let him into the apartment with a smile as usual, the place a bit of a mess from her and Eri working on some new big project, strewn with scraps of fabric and stacks of magazines for reference. Neku did his best to maneuver around it all and find a clean space to sit in the living room.

“Hey, if it isn’t Mr. Grumpy,” Eri greeted. “For someone who just got a raise, you don’t look very happy.” Neku simply grunted in response, staring down at the bits of carpet he could see through the general clutter.

“Unless…oh, no, Neku, you didn’t—”

“No, I did.” He held up his hand and Shiki’s shoulders relaxed in relief. “It’s just…not what I expected. D’you remember how my boss just randomly disappears for most of the day? Well, apparently he’s off being a modeling agent.”

“You’re joking.”

“Does it look like I am?” Neku exhaled sharply, exasperated. “He dumped one of his models on me, even. A total irritating asshole who—”

“Oh my God.” Eri’s eyes widened, standing up so quickly from her chair she disturbed a pile of sketch paper, sending the pieces scattering all over the floor. “You’re a model’s assistant? That’s not fair! You’re not even in the business!”

“I didn’t ask for this!”

“Which model? Which agency?” She carried on as if she didn’t hear a thing, leaning over Neku imperiously, hands on her hips.

“I don’t know!” Neku backed up against the couch, not liking the fact he was suddenly being grilled. “I told you, my boss is apparently the agent. Does Sanae Hanekoma ring any bells?”

“Not really.” Eri frowned, turning briefly to Shiki who gave a shake of her head in response. “Whose assistant are you then? What do they look like?”

“I—uh, I only got a first name, I think. Joshua?” He shifted a bit, trying to think of a good enough description that might satisfy Eri so she’d stop interrogating him. “He’s a little shorter than me, really strange purple eyes, light hair—”

“Wait, wait.” She spun around, moving over to a heap of magazines, peering closely at their spines before pulling one out and flipping through it quickly. Once she found what she was looking for, she dropped the magazine in Neku’s lap, open to the page in question. “Is that him?” Looking down, Neku wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but what he saw nearly caused him to choke on his own spit.

Laid out on wine red silk sheets and wearing nothing but a pair of black boxers, was the same guy from the café. His body was arched slightly, lithe, pale skin and hair in stark contrast with the dark color of the linens, smile light and evocative and a little…off. But his eyes, even hooded and staring at Neku—the camera, he mentally corrected himself—with intense, undisguised enticement and longing, were the same. That unique, unmistakable shade of violet.

“I’ll take that a yes.” Startled, Neku glanced up, mortified to realize he’d been staring at the picture long enough to have Eri start smirking at him knowingly. “But no wonder you didn’t recognize him—even I probably wouldn’t have. He works for this really selective and secretive company called CAT. They don’t do a lot of shoots, and even then it’s almost exclusively for Gatito’s clothing line. I think the ad you’re looking at is one of the only ones he did for Pegaso…”

“Then how do you know so much?” Neku glared at her out of lingering embarrassment. Shiki had made room on the couch, pushing off a sewing kit and pattern book, so she could look at the magazine.

“I make it my business to know everyone that’s good,” Eri replied. “So this isn’t right at all that you get to be his assistant.”

“Oh! This is for that cologne, Decadence. I remember who the model is now.” Shiki looked up at Neku. “We can show you his other ads.”

“What? No! I don’t want—”

“They’re not all like this, if that’s what you’re worried about.” She hid a smile behind her hand. “And, besides, shouldn’t you know more about who you’re working for?”

“Not really. Whatever I need to get by.” Shrugging, Neku set the magazine aside on the coffee table, only to have another one shoved in his face.

“Here. That one has a little blurb about him.” Eri plopped herself down next to Shiki and Neku resigned himself to the fact that he wasn’t getting any food, or even any peace, until he went along with his friends’ whims.

He barely spared attention for the ad itself, something about watches, and went on to read the little square bit of text next to it. Yoshiya Kiryu…goes by Joshua in his modeling career, works exclusively for CAT Agency…20, birthday is November 15th …

“Okay, is this going to tell me he likes long walks on the beach next?”

“Ugh, fine.” Eri rolled her eyes and stood up. “Don’t say we didn’t try and help you when you go through a crash course tomorrow.”

“Don’t remind me about tomorrow.” Neku groaned.

“Then I’ll remind you about treating me and Shiki to dinner. And since you get an opportunity the two of us can only dream of, I’m thinking you can do that for the rest of the week.”

“Hey! That’s—” But Eri was already out of earshot and Shiki was trying to pull him up from the couch by his elbow.

“C’mon. None of it will be that bad, I promise,” she said, reassuringly. But considering how his day had gone, Neku was pretty sure things could get worse than his lowest expectations.

A/N: I have discovered that I am incapable of being in a fandom without writing the characters as models at some point? I don’t know why, but there you go. I often have a lot of fun with AUs like this, so I hope the rest of you do too!

New Years

2012-01-01T02:12:08Z

Happy New Years!

It's still a good few hours away here, but I figure I'd make this post now.
2011 has been...well, a year full of disappointments, but it managed to end on some good notes! I hope that's an indication of things to come. I'll keep trying my best, and that's all I can do, really.

I hope the coming year is kind and full of prospects for all of you. Let's make it a good one \0/

Take care and all the best,
<3
Melly

A Different Horizon [3/?]

2011-12-22T09:24:01Z

Title: A Different Horizon [3/?]
Author: Melly
Rating: Pg-15
Characters/Pairings: Us/Uk and France/Canada. A lot of the cast appears, but in this chapter: Wales (Wyn).
Warnings: Language, sexual innuendo, violence, and a whole lot of video game references.
Summary: RPG AU. As adventures often do, Matthew’s started with a letter. Now he’s on a treasure hunt with his swordsman brother, a disgruntled black mage, and a summoner who is far too charming for his own good.
A/N: A holiday gift for measuringlife. I hope she and the rest of you appreciate my overindulgence, because this is just too fun to write when I need a break. As always, journal-only, and extensive A/N at the end. Enjoy!

Part 1
Part 2

There was a fog over the hills, thick enough that only the tops of the spires of the university back in the city could be seen. Matthew shivered, feeling his skin prickle with goose bumps against the strange, unsettling magic seeping from the gaping entrance to the shrine. He swallowed, hands tightening on his new staff, hoping that the barriers he’d soon put up would dissipate the effect.

They restocked before heading out, and Matthew was grateful he finally had a proper instrument for his magic, but a part of him wished it didn’t have to be under such circumstances. Wyn wasn’t joking when he warned that the aura of the place had gone completely awry since the disappearance of the scouting team.

“Let’s get this over with.” Arthur heaved a sigh, not looking any more at ease with the atmosphere. “Matthew, if you would?”

“Right.” Exhaling slowly, he focused on his spellcasting, relaxing when the familiar warmth that accompanied protective magics bubbled up. After he heard the soft swish of Protect and Shell coalescing, he cast a few extra precautions, including Float, before lowering his staff. “That should do it.”

“I don’t like this.” Alfred glanced dolefully at his feet, shifting experimentally. “I feel funny walking.”

“You’ll thank me for it.” Matthew tugged at his sleeves, fingers lingering on the Ribbon still tied around his wrist. “Tell me whenever those wear out, and I’ll recast.”

“Thank you.” Arthur nodded in his direction before following after Alfred, who had already unsheathed his sword and was running full-tilt, into the shrine. Matthew lagged behind with Francis, who had been uncharacteristically quiet since they got out to the hills.

“Um. I hope you don’t mind I put a few more spells over you.” Matthew bit his lower lip, glancing over at Francis. “You just didn’t seem yourself, and I didn’t know if you needed more protection because of your summons, so…”

“Why would I mind?” He smiled, carefully stepping around the remnants of a fallen archway. “It’s nice to know you care enough to worry about me.”

“Oh.” Matthew felt his cheeks warm at being found out, but Francis seemed more grateful than teasing. “It’s no trouble.”

“You’re too sweet, cheri.” Chuckling, Francis brushed his fingers lightly over Matthew’s shoulder. “And I apologize if I seemed distant. This place…reminds me of somewhere I’ve been before.”

Matthew wanted to ask what place would cause Francis to act so detached, but the echo of Alfred and Arthur’s voices were coming from the room at the end of the entryway, and they both quickened their pace to see what was happening.

“—I can totally make that jump!”

“That’s not the point! If that way is impassable without leaping over a pit, then the scouting team didn’t go that way.” Arthur turned when he heard Matthew and Francis enter the camber, gesturing to the gaping hole in the hall at the northern end of the room. “You two, do you want to go down that way?”

“Not particularly.” Francis wrinkled his nose.

“But all the treasure is probably there.” Pushing himself off the wall, Alfred sheathed his sword and shifted his stance. “And once I’m over, I can help the rest of you. Watch, it’ll be easy!”

“Don’t—!” Before anyone could take a step to stop him, Alfred was already halfway across the chamber, jumping with practiced ease once he reached the edge of the gap in the floor. He landed lightly on the other side, turning around with a grin and his arms outstretched.

“Ta-dah!” He proclaimed. “Like I could fly, practically!”

“That was Float helping.” Matthew rolled his eyes a bit. “How are we supposed to get over there now?”

“Uh, I could catch you, maybe? But that—hold on a second.” Frowning, Alfred bent down, squinting into the darkness of the pit beneath him. “I think there’s something down there.”

“Something?” Arthur echoed. “Could you be a little more specific?”

“I dunno. But I think I see a light. Like torches.”

“Torches? That…shouldn’t be right.” He strode across the room to where the gap was, leaning over the edge. “No one was here before but the scouts. This place was supposed to have been empty.”

“Maybe they went down there?” Matthew was more hesitant, but after a cursory glance, he thought he could see the soft, orange glow of firelight somewhere below. “Should we take a look?”

“If we’ve stumbled across such a mystery, I’d think it was almost an obligation,” Francis said. “Mathieu, with Float, if we just jump down there we should be fine, yes?”

“Ah, yeah.” He nodded. “It’ll cushion your landing.”

“All right! A real adventure!” Without hesitation, Alfred leapt straight down into the pit, disappearing into the shadow, Francis following close behind. Matthew took a small stutter step, uncertain even with the assurance of Float, before walking off the edge and falling.

He landed without mishap, a small whoosh of air disturbing the dust on the floor, but he was soon jogging ahead to catch up with Francis and Alfred. The light was more noticeable at the bottom of the pit, a steady beacon at the end of the dim hall.

Eventually, they emerged into a circular chamber with large torches set along the walls and a pillar erected in the center. There were markings carved in it, things Matthew couldn’t decipher, but they gave off on eerie aura that oozed through his magical shields and churned his stomach. Dark patches of something that looked disturbingly like dried blood were streaked along the pillar and coated the small trough at the base of it.

“What is this place?” Alfred was walking around the room, eyes fixed on the inscriptions.

“Oh, gods, this…” Matthew turned, startled at the horrified edge to Arthur’s voice. He was gripping the cracked stone of the doorway, pale and eyes wide. “…this is a necromancy alter. What is—this was under the shrine?”

“Necromancy? Isn’t that a kind of magic?” Alfred stopped, looking over his shoulder.

“Technically,” Arthur spat. “But it’s…unnatural. It goes against the order of things, and is the antithesis of white magic. The only reason it hasn’t been criminalized and all the practicing mages haven’t been thrown in dungeons is because they’re indispensable in war. And we all know that’s been looming over us for years.”

“But they still have to practice in secret, as you can see here.” Francis tilted his head at some of the marks on the pillar. “It’s a dangerous art. So much of it involves the offering of life forces, your own blood…”

“How do you know so much about it?” Folding his arms, Arthur moved to stand nearer to Alfred, away from the center of the room.

“It’s not as persecuted in the Empire. The Grand General has his own corps of necromancers.” He shrugged. “But what is more troublesome than the mere presence of this is that we haven’t found the scouting team.”

“Are we sure they even went this way?”

“It would explain why they never returned,” Arthur said, rubbing a hand across his forehead. “This situation keeps getting worse, but—this is something Wyn and the university should know about. Let’s go as far as we can and report back.”

“Right.” Alfred unsheathed his sword again, moving quickly towards the doorway out of the room. “Remember where we turn and stuff so we can get back.”

The next few rooms were painfully ordinary, full of nothing but long tables and stacks of scrolls and books, but eventually, they came to a place with nothing but four stone blocks set up equidistant from each other on the floor.

“This panel…it looks like a door.” Arthur ran his hand over a spot on the wall with the same sort of inscriptions as on the pillar before. “But it’s locked, seems like.”

“Are the blocks the key, then?” Francis knocked on one gently. “They had to use some way to get through there.”

“I don’t sense any sort of mechanism connected with magic, so you might be right.” Arms folded, he turned from the door and glanced around at the blocks. “Find the one that has the floor worn around it.”

“And do what?” Alfred lightly kicked the block in question with the side of his foot.

“Push it! What do you think? It’s probably a lever or rolls over a switch.” Huffing, Alfred did as Arthur said, bracing himself and throwing his weight into the block. Slowly, it slid across the ground, and with a groaning creak the door lifted, revealing a narrow hallway.

“Not a very clever lock,” Francis mused, stepping towards the exit. “They must have other precautions, however. I wonder what they’re hiding back here if their alter was in plain sight?”

“That’s been bothering me.” Matthew recast the protective spells, which felt like they were about to give out. “I don’t know much about necromancy practice, but if their alter is something important…then what are they protecting that’s more important, with locks, and who knows what else?”

“I guess we’ll find out.” Alfred ducked through the doorway, torches instantly lighting on the walls. A motion spell, cast into the stones, Matthew could feel the thread of it under his feet as he crossed the threshold. “…oh, shit.”

Against the walls, the floors, scattered around the entire hall were dozens of skeletons, the skulls all turned the same way, gaping sockets fixed right on the doorway. Pinned to the stone by rusted swords were two fresher corpses, both dressed in robes of the university.

“There’s…part of the scouting team.” Arthur’s voice was shaking slightly, and Matthew saw, out of the corner of his eye, Alfred shift closer to him, as if to convey some sort of comfort before thinking better of it. “I don’t know where the other three got to, but we should find out.”

“They couldn’t have gotten much farther, right?” Matthew tried to keep his eyes off the dead scouts, feeling bile climb up his throat. “We just have to keep—” There was a shudder of magic through the area, causing Arthur and Matthew to wince before the bones strewn about the floor started to move, melding together until the narrow hall started to fill with the completed bodies.

“Bigger problems!” Alfred sliced the head of the skeleton nearest to him, with a speed and skill that caused Matthew pause. His brother had improved over the years—more than he ever imagined. “Probably how the scouts died, and it would be awesome if that didn’t happen to us!”

“Can’t we just run—?” Turning around, Matthew found the door had lowered sometime in the commotion.

“Clever trap.” He felt a hum in the air, a buzzing, sparking power, and turned to see Francis, eyes bright, seeming to glow from an internal light. It struck Matthew then that he’d never seen Francis summon anything before, but staring wasn’t helping out Alfred or Arthur, who were busy dealing with the increasing number of enemies. Wrenching his gaze away from the intricate, interlocking designs of golden light that appeared at Francis’s feet, Matthew cast Slow, pleased when the spell stuck and the skeletons’ movements and formations turned sluggish. He made a mental note to pick up a spellbook for Holy the second they got out, since he had a feeling ailment magics weren’t going to cut it forever.

A blast of hot air nearly sent him off balance into the wall, but after recovering, he saw a bird, swathed in flame, divebomb a group of the enemies, some of them bursting instantly into ash. Not missing a beat, Alfred slashed through the last few skeletons with enough force to send their bones skittering across the ground.

“This shit won’t rise up again, will it?” He gave the remains an experimental poke with the tip of his sword.

“It shouldn’t, they’re just foot soldiers.” The bird from before circled around a few times before landing gracefully on Francis’s shoulder, who stroked two fingers along its elegant neck. “But there’s probably more.”

“Doesn’t bode well for what’s ahead.” Lips pressed into a thin line, Arthur skirted around the bones the best he could before pausing at the body of one of the scouts. “I wish…there was something we could do about their bodies. It’s not right they’re down here.”

“Well, come on, anyway.” Alfred gestured down the hall, smiling imploringly. “We have to get out of here ourselves, first. And then we can tell your brother and they can send a team that’s prepared to handle that stuff. It’ll be okay, promise.”

“Right.” Ducking his head, he moved along with Alfred, Matthew giving a wide berth to the scouts’ corpses before following along and keeping close to Francis. The bird on his shoulder peered at Matthew curiously, making a soft chirping noise.

“He says your magic is very warm.”

“Huh? Oh. Is that a good thing?” The creature’s plumage was a bright, vivid scarlet that tapered off into long tail feathers tipped green and gold. Matthew’s hands itched to touch something so beautiful and ethereal, just to make sure it was real.

“I think so. Phoenix has some revival magic ability, so I’d say that was high praise.” He chuckled, but before Matthew could say anything in response, the clang of Alfred’s sword startled them both into action, and they were met with another wave of skeleton foot soldiers.

They seemed endless in the next few rooms, but eventually they made their way to chamber with no enemies in sight, and a few chests pressed up against the wall across from the entryway.

“All right, treasure! Finally!” Alfred jumped on the balls of his feet excitedly before dashing across the room to the chests, using his sword to break open the locks.

“Can we take a bit of a break?” Matthew leaned his shoulder against the wall, feeling the well of his magic was dangerously low. “I need to rest a bit—or an Ether, whichever.”

“There’s one in here! And something for you, Arthur, look!” Alfred held up a black magician’s staff, carved from a dark, polished wood. Arthur took it, warily, but after a moment of testing it and casting a small lightning spell, he smiled, just a bit.

“Thank you.”

“No prob.” Alfred grinned in return, pulling on a pair of gloves. “Oh, neat, these feel like they were spelled for agility. Think that’s it, though. Mattie, you said you needed an Ether?”

“I could use one too,” Francis said, Phoenix leaving his shoulder to perch on one of the chests and preen. “But I’m sure we can share, if we need to ration them.”

“Here.” After tossing the Ether to Matthew, Alfred unsheathed his sword. “You guys rest up. Arthur and I can scout ahead.”

“Okay. Be careful.” Alfred waved over his shoulder reassuringly before he and Arthur disappeared down the hallway out of the room. Once they were gone, Matthew uncapped the Ether bottle, taking a small sip and trying not to wince at how sour it was. He’d never get used to the taste. “Does summoning drain your magic so much?”

“Mm? On principle, no, but I’m out of practice.” Francis sighed. “The less focused I am in anchoring them here, the more magic I have to use to compensate. It’s like trying to remember how to use a weapon after not picking one up for a few years.”

“I see.” Matthew held out the Ether bottle. “Want a sip now?”

“Actually…” Francis grinned, a suggestive curve to it that both surprised and excited Matthew. “I think you can repay your debt now.”

“My debt?”

“The kiss you owe me, remember?” He gestured to the Ether. “Just take a swig of that, kiss me, and we will have taken care of two problems at once.”

“I—you’re serious?” Matthew blinked, incredulous, grip so tight, he was afraid he was going to break the bottle in his hands.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He titled his head to the side, still smiling enticingly, but his tone was sincere. It was—well, it wouldn’t mean anything, would it? He was just paying Francis back, and maybe, if he got one kiss, it would stop the stupid, silly fantasies about the other, his hands, how soft his hair looked.

He was sure he was flushing to the roots of his hair, but steeling himself, Matthew took a drink of the Ether, glancing up at Francis in acquiescence. Francis’s eyes were still oddly bright, aglow in brilliant, unearthly blue, and Matthew wondered if that was an effect of the summoning, before Francis tilted his head up to press their lips together.

He felt heat bubble up in the pit of his stomach at the contact, like the sensation of strong spellcasting, but not quite, and he moved his hands up to grip the front of Francis’s shirt, the other running his tongue along the seam of Matthew’s lips. He opened his mouth, letting the liquid flow between them and tasting Francis underneath the tang of the Ether, all of it accompanied by the rush of the well of his magic rising again. Pulling back, Francis licked his lips for any lingering droplets, the action causing Matthew’s knees to go weak.

“Merci,” he murmured, pressing the tips of his fingers lightly to Matthew’s cheek before stepping away completely.

“I—um, sure.” Not knowing what else to do, Matthew held out the bottle. “You can—you can have what’s left. I’m good.” Francis accepted the Ether and drained the rest of it, calling over to Phoenix when he was done.

“Let’s go catch up with your brother and Arthur.” The bird alighted on his shoulder as he turned towards the exit. “Hopefully they haven’t gotten into any trouble.”

“Hopefully,” Matthew repeated, picking up his staff from where he had propped it up against the wall.

Things like this really couldn’t keep happening when they still had skeleton armies to fight.

A/N: Hoooly shit, I thought I was going to get the whole dungeon done in one part, but apparently not? It makes me wonder, if I ever finish this whole thing, how long is it really going to be? Moving on! Lot’s of stuff going on in this part.

The short of the deal with necromancy is this: it’s not persecuted, but frowned upon. As Arthur said, it’s seen as being against the natural order of things, since it animates death (the opposite of white magic, which is the magic that sustains and manipulates life). The alter they use is for blood sacrifices, hence the trough at the bottom. Pleasant stuff, and trust me, in the second half of this dungeon it only gets more pleasant.

The spells Matthew uses are standard Final Fantasy fare. Protect lessens physical damage, Shell lessens magical damage, Float…makes you float a few inches off the ground on some magical air thing (it’s used most often to make earth-based magic ineffectual, like the Levitate ability in Pokemon, but I always thought it would be neat if it cushioned falls and made you lighter on your feet). Slow is what it says on the tin, pretty much. And oh, look, another reveal of Francis’s summons! He has two more~ The design for Phoenix is based off the Final Fantasy VIII Version.

Videogame cliché time! All of these links lead to TvTropes, as a warning, but I wanted to have fun with this, so I hope you do too. Those in this part include: Temple of Doom (Compulsory Videogame Setting), Dungeon Design 301, Barely hinted at, at this point, but I’m not playing The Last Rule of Politics straight, and I made an excuse for this but the Falling Rule is still there.

More hints about things are hidden in here! As always, due to my excessive self-indulgence, feel free to ask questions, but unless you want spoilers, I might not be able to answer them all.

Hiatus

2011-12-14T04:20:40Z

Holiday Hiatus

Since I'm probably going to be very busy tomorrow, I'm putting this up here now. Thursday I'm flying home for Winter Break, so my internet will be spotty from the 15th of December to about the 3rd of January. I'll be around for exchanges and whatnot, but to be perfectly honest, I could really use the break, so unless I need to post/check something, I probably won't be around.

You can, however, reach me by text, if you'd like! Just drop me a PM, and I'll give you my number.

I have just one more exam to go, and this quarter will be over! Thank goodness. Also, whew, it's really chilly. Apparently, it's worse back home, so great, I have that to look forward to, ahaha...

Concerning memeish things, here is my holiday wish post, and here is my thread for the holiday love meme (2nd thread since the first apparently maxed?).

Anyway, best of luck to those of you who have finals going on, or still to come. Take care and keep warm, everyone.
<3
Melly

Home Stretch

2011-12-12T01:21:49Z

I am so sorry I've been a complete recluse recently, but I'm in the final week of the QUARTER FROM HELL and all I've been doing is school and...avoiding doing things for school by fucking around on Tumblr and writing angsty fanfiction.

But, anyway, here to tell you I'm not dead and to drop off this meme before heading back to ~~procrastinate~~ study.

STEP ONE

☆ Make a post (public, friendslocked, filtered ... whatever you're comfortable with) to your LJ. The post should contain your list of 10 holiday wishes. The wishes can be anything at all, from simple and fandom-related ("I'd love a Snape/Hermione icon that's just for me") to medium ("I wish for _____ on DVD") to really big ("All I want for Christmas is a new car/computer/house/TV.") The important thing is, make sure these wishes are things you really, truly want.
☆ If you wish for real life things (not fics or icons), make sure you include some sort of contact info in your post, whether it's your address or just your email address where Santa (or one of his elves) could get in touch with you.
☆ Also, make sure you post some version of these guidelines in your LJ so that the holiday joy will spread.

STEP TWO

☆ Surf around your friends list (or friends' friends, or just random journals) to see who has posted their list. And now here's the important part:
☆ If you see a wish you can grant, and it's in your heart to do so, make someone's wish come true. Sometimes someone's trash is another's treasure, and if you have a leather jacket you don't want or a gift certificate you won't use--or even know where you could get someone's dream purebred Basset Hound for free--do it. You needn't spend money on these wishes unless you want to. The point isn't to put people out, it's to provide everyone a chance to be someone else's holiday elf--to spread the joy. Gifts can be made anonymously or not--it's your call. There are no rules with this project, no guarantees, and no strings attached. Just... wish, and it might come true. Give, and you might receive. And you'll have the joy of knowing you made someone's holiday special.

Melly's wishlist:

1. Fanart of any of my fics, any fandom. I completely and utterly adore getting art for things I've written. There's no better feeling than knowing something you wrote inspired someone else enough for them to draw something, however small. Seriously, instant warm fuzzy feelings for days and days after I get art for fics.

2. This feeling of complete and utter inadequacy to go away. This year has been a struggle and a half to convince myself that I'm not a shit writer and person and that I'm actually doing something that makes a difference. Something happened recently that was a pretty big blow to my self-esteem in that regard, so I'd really like these feelings to just...go away forever.

3. The Uta No Prince Sama Class S Version Pendant. I am never going to get this because it's approximately 150$, but a girl can dream, right?

4. Posterrrrs. My wall in my dorm is really bare. I'd like nighttime cityscapes of Paris and Tokyo and Beijing, along with more fandom oriented posters like The World Ends With You, Adventure Time, or France and America's stick posters.

5. Fanworks of pairs I love. It's always nice to see stuff of things you like, of course!

6. Makeup, specifically eye shadows. You can never have too many colors! I like Urban Decay a whole whole lot, but I can be persuaded to like things that have funny and unique names. Seriously, I have bought so much stuff just because it had a cute/witty name.

7. Coffee/tea. I love trying out new stuff people think is awesome.

8. Internship at a publishing company. Preferably paid.

9. Icons of things/characters I like. I kinda fail at making them myself, after all :|a

10. ~~all my pairs to become canon~~ ~~the power to destroy my enemies~~ ~~Daito Shunsuke~~ Uh....world peace?

If you need my address, just drop me a comment here or in a PM. ^.^
Oh, also, there is this:
Holiday Love Meme

I hope the rest of you are keeping as stress-free as you can this time of year. Chin up, we're almost there~!

<3
Melly

Eat ALL the Pecan Pie!

2011-11-23T08:34:00Z

(Small) Hiatus

Hi everyone! I'm flying out tomorrow to DC to spend Thanksgiving with my brother. I'm not sure if the hotel I'm staying at has free wi-fi, and even if it does, I'm not sure how much time I'll have to actually be on.

I hope everyone has a great Thanksgiving, if you're celebrating it. Eat lots and relax! I'll be back Sunday~

Take care.
<3
Melly

When I Say [1/1]

2011-11-14T07:56:40Z

Title: When I Say [1/1]
Author: Melly
Rating: MA
Characters/Pairings: France/Canada
Warnings: Language, talk and implications of sex, including talk about sex of the non-con variety. Nothing very explicit, but it’s there.
Summary: Francis is aware, to some degree, of his not-entirely-factual reputation, but it still hurts to know how much it has preceded him.
A/N: De-anon from the kink meme. Any/any, surprised when their partner takes “no” for an answer. This prompt really caught my interest, and I’ve wanted to do something like this for a long while. So, enjoy!

The giddy, new sheen to their relationship hadn’t quite worn off yet, and Francis wasn’t sure it ever would, since he suspected even centuries into the future, Matthew would still always greet him with that warm, sweet smile that never failed to make his heart jump, just a little bit. It was difficult to resist the urge to pull Matthew against him and kiss the other breathless when he could still picture very clearly the way the other stuttered over his confession, a jumble of French and English, je t—je—love you. I love you. Or, most of all, how it felt like a relief, like finally coming home, to hear it and say it in return.

But when they were alone, he could touch and kiss Matthew in any way he wanted, press him up against the door of the hotel room and hear him let out needy, breathy moans. Matthew had his hands tangled in Francis’s hair, thumbs brushing against the nape of his neck as Francis sucked at the pulse in his throat. His tie was already undone, both their suit jackets in rumpled heaps on the floor, and Francis dragged both his hands down Matthew’s torso, pausing to untuck his shirt when he got to the hem of the other’s slacks. Deftly, Francis undid the belt, the button, and pulled down the zipper before cupping Matthew through his boxers.

“O-oh, oh. Oh, God.” He shuddered, arching up off the door as Francis tightened his grip, squeezing and rubbing the heel of his hand along Matthew’s cock.

“Beautiful,” Francis murmured, tilting his head up for a kiss, deep and thorough, feeling Matthew—his lovely, wonderful, perfect Matthew—nearly melt against him.

But, the moment he eased his hand under the elastic of the other’s boxers, Matthew stilled, breath coming in quick, sharp intakes. The reaction was confusing, but it could have been out of surprise…

“Francis. Francis, stop—stop—” Immediately, he did as told, pulling his hand away and taking a short step back to give Matthew some room. He looked panicked, eyes wide and curling into himself a bit as he attempted to even out his breathing.

“Shh, cheri, what is the matter?” Francis reached out, thinking to pet Matthew’s hair or rub his shoulder for comfort, but he wasn’t sure if the other wanted to be touched, so he drew his hand back.

“I’m sorry. I just think it was too much too fast. I felt so lightheaded....” He ran a hand through his hair, gaze flicking upwards briefly. “You—you stopped.”

“No need to apologize for that. And yes. Of course I did.” The surprise on Matthew’s face might as well have been a kick to his sternum. “You believed otherwise? You really think that of me?”

“I thought…I thought you—”

“Don’t hesitate.” Francis’s eyes narrowed, and he was dimly aware of a sharp pain in his palm from where his nails were digging into the flesh, but he felt like he was going to be violently sick from the thought that Matthew, the person he loved, assumed he would have—merde. “Say what you think. Probably no worse than I have heard before. Did you think I would have tied you down? Forced you open and taken you while you begged me to stop?”

Matthew flinched like the words were a slap, shaking his head in an emphatic no, but Francis couldn’t halt the things spilling over, the self-depreciation, the whispers of don’t think it’s charm so much as he forces himself on everyone, all the little cruelties bubbling up like the bile he felt at the back of his throat.

“And if not that, maybe I would have slipped something into your drink? Put a knife to your neck? Do you think I find you more beautiful when you are bleeding and sobbing?” The image flickered across his mind for just a second, and he started shaking, stomach feeling like it was trying to crawl up his throat. “Wondering what else I’ve done, who else I’ve done it to? Just say so—”

“Francis.” His name was spoken barely above a whisper, but it was enough to get him to fall quiet because Matthew was standing right in front of him now, eyes steeled and unwavering despite the trembling of his bottom lip. “No. I never thought that you would—would force me. I just didn’t expect you to pull away so quickly. You seemed like you were really into touching me and I thought it would take a little more effort to get you to stop, but I…that’s not you. It’s not you, you would never…”

“I’m sorry.” Francis let out a short bark of dismissive laughter that sounded more like a sob. “I’m sorry, it is just…the remarks are normally something I brush off. There is nothing to them, but the thought of you believing such a thing, I couldn’t—”

“It’s okay.” Matthew cupped his cheeks before pulling him into an embrace, hold tight and protective. “It’s okay. I love you, and I trust you, and I don’t like seeing you like this.”

“Ah.” Francis let out a breath, finally relaxing enough to return the hug, arms wrapped loosely around Matthew’s waist. “I love you too, mon ange.”

“It was a misunderstanding.” Matthew ran his hand lightly down Francis’s spine, the touch gentle and soothing. It was then Francis realized that he was still trembling, very slightly, and that Matthew could feel it from how close they were pressed together. “But I didn’t mean to—I don’t think that of you.”

“I understand, Mathieu.” He tried a smile but it was still a little stiff, skin still crawling. “I overreacted.” The other made a face, lips pressed into a thin, dour line, a warning sign that Matthew was starting to get irritated, but instead of arguing the point, he shifted subjects.

“So, um, I take it neither of us are in the mood anymore. And you still seem kinda tense. We could take a nap and order room service later?”

“That sounds quite nice, actually.” He noted Matthew seemed rather pleased he had taken to the suggestion, and took a moment to slip his still-undone pants off completely before kicking them aside. Francis only undid his tie and belt before climbing into the hotel bed, not bothering to pull back the covers.

Matthew settled down next to him, smile bright as he reached out to run his fingers lightly through Francis’s hair. He smelled comforting, like wood smoke and honeysuckle, and just the faintest hint of something sweet. Leaning into it, Francis pressed his face against Matthew’s neck, kissing over one of the hickeys he left before.

“We’ll go slower next time.”

“Mmm?”

“Next time,” Matthew repeated. “For…uh, sex? I mean, you’re just very, um, good, and I’m not really used to feeling that way. It’s you, and I’ve just wanted this for so long…”

“I understand.” Francis chuckled a bit, throwing one arm over Matthew’s waist. “We have plenty of time together, after all. We can take things as slow as you’d like.”

“I know, Francis.” There was so much in those words, trust and promise and reassurance, enough that Francis was able to close his eyes, thoughts and body settling as sleep started to creep over him. “I know.”

A/N: The title was inspired by a very small bit of lyric from "Shelter" by The XX. That song, plus my firm, dig-in-heels interpretation that France is actually very hurt by the implication he would force anyone into having sex, was inspiration for this.

Aubade [1/1]

2011-11-10T07:06:05Z

Title: Aubade [1/1]
Author: Melly
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Joshua/Neku
Warnings: There’s nothing really. Fluff?
Spoilers: This occurs post-game, so there are a few.
Summary: Neku enjoys a rare, strange instance when Joshua isn’t being completely irritating.
A/N: This was borne from a little bit of headcanon of mine and morphed itself into this fluffy thing. But hey, a little bit of that is good for the soul right? Like chicken soup. Enjoy!

Joshua looked weird when he was sleeping. Or rather, he looked different, quiet and completely without pretenses. Neku couldn’t remember a time when he had woken up before Joshua, during the Game or more recently, when the other had gotten into the habit of using Neku’s room to crash when he was close by. It was strange that he had to sleep in the first place, but as Joshua had informed him, with an exasperated air like it should have been obvious, all things needed to recharge in some manner, even the Composer. Neku had never actually seen him asleep though, so a sight of Joshua this unguarded was rare.

He had stolen all the blankets at some point during the night, wrapping himself into a little cocoon with only his head peeking out, but Neku always kicked the covers off anyway, so he didn’t exactly mind them being taken. Joshua looked softer, almost, when he wasn’t wearing a smirk, and his hair was spilling across the pillows.

Rain was falling hard outside, hitting Neku’s bedroom window in a steady pit-pat, and he wanted nothing more than to flop back onto the mattress next to Joshua and fall asleep again, but that would have to wait until the weekend. He watched the rise and fall of the blankets in time with Joshua’s even breathing, appreciating the calm, the little moments where it felt like forgiveness would be okay, at the very tip of his tongue. They were fleeting, and Neku would drudge up some memory or Joshua would take things a little too far over the line before too long, but there was progress. Little increments, bit by bit, until there was a noticeable change.

Joshua made a low, discontent noise in his sleep, jerking Neku from his thoughts. He shifted under the covers, restlessly, lips pursed and the bridge of his nose creased, very slightly, a milder version of what Neku came to recognize as distaste from Joshua. A bad dream, maybe? Unthinkingly, he reached out to graze his fingertips lightly over Joshua’s cheek, growing a little bolder when the other didn’t show signs of waking. His skin was so soft, softer than Neku could garner before from moments of accidental contact or scuffles, and the brief, flustering thought of what it would feel like if he pressed his lips there flickered across his mind. Worst of all, he caught himself smiling when he realized Joshua had relaxed against the touch, in deep and easy sleep once more. Snatching his hand back, Neku moved to get out of the bed, careful not to jostle it too much. He decided he might as well take a shower before the other woke up and decided to peek in on him. Neku really didn’t put that past him.

He emerged a short while later, already clad in the shirt and pants of his school uniform, to find Joshua had just woken up, covering a small yawn with the back of his hand. He took one look out the window at the weather and wrinkled his nose, expression changing to one of faint amusement when he turned his attention to Neku.

“You’re different without your hair gelled,” he remarked, head tilted just slightly. “It’s a good look.” Neku shrugged by way of explanation, unwilling to divulge the fact he might have wasted too much time in his morning routine watching Joshua sleep to have any left over to style his hair as usual.

“Aren’t you normally gone by now?” His tie was missing from its usual spot on the back of his desk chair, and he let out a small, frustrated sigh, wondering where else it could be. There was a pause, and then a soft rustling of the sheets, before Neku felt something loop around his neck and tighten snugly, Joshua having seemingly—or literally—read his mind.

“My, my, eager to get rid of me this morning, are we?” He adjusted the tie, fingertips lingering at the skin above Neku’s collar. “Afraid I’ll snoop around in your things if you leave me alone too long? Some secret you don’t want me to find?”

“No.” Neku glared, squirming away from Joshua’s touch. “And where did you find my tie?”

“Under your bed. Really, Neku, you should keep better track of your things.” Joshua gestured dismissively, giggling. “But relax. I should get going since it seems I overslept, so you have nothing to worry about.”

“Oh.” He let out a breath, eyes drawn just a second to the place on Joshua’s cheek where he’d had his hand earlier, before he ducked down to pick up his bag under his desk. “See you later?” Neku couldn’t help the questioning lilt at the end, since he was always, always unsure when it came to Joshua, but really, when was the tipping point where he started wanting to spend more time with the other rather than less?

“Yes, Neku. You’ll see me later.” The statement was, shockingly, without any mocking tinge, almost affectionate, but before Neku could utter anything in response, Joshua’s form flickered, like faulty reception, before he vanished entirely.

That evening, when Neku returned from school and settled on his bed to do some sketches, he noticed his pillows smelled like coffee and lavender and smoke, like Joshua, and he closed his eyes for the briefest of moments, just to take it all in.

A/N: Joshua is the worst blanket hog in existence and nothing will convince me otherwise.
The title, “aubade,” refers to a type of a poem or song that, contemporarily, occurs in the morning, or is speaking about something that happens in the morning. In the classic sense, however, an aubade is specifically a poem or song about lovers lamenting their parting at dawn.

A Black Eye Casts No Shadow [1/1]

2011-10-16T08:56:35Z

Title: A Black Eye Casts No Shadow
Author: Melly
Rating: PG-15
Characters/Pairings: Joshua/Neku
Warnings: Language, a little violence, some sexual imagery, and makeouts.
Spoilers: If you haven’t finished the game, there’s a few.
Summary: There’s a fine line, Neku learns, between different sorts of frustrations.
A/N: This sat on my computer for a while before I decided to finish it up. Life gets in the way and all that. In any case, hope you enjoy!

Neku liked to think he had at least a mild tolerance for Joshua showing up wherever he wanted unannounced. Until, of course, he decided to spend his time in Neku’s bedroom. And after the fourth or fifth time Neku walked in to find Joshua reclining on the bed, relaxed and reading a book like he owned the damn place, it bypassed what little patience he had.

“You’re here again?” Joshua’s only response was a little wave, not even glancing up from his book, although Neku could see a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. “Why?”

“Neku, I’m hurt.” There was a mocking edge to his tone that made Neku tense with aggravation. “Do I have to have a reason? Can’t I come to see you because I want to?”

“You always have a reason.” With a sigh, Neku dropped his bag down beside his desk. “Shouldn’t you be out…I dunno, doing Composer stuff?” Joshua shrugged one shoulder dismissively.

“I have nothing diverting to do at the moment.” Neku, who had gotten good at translating Joshua-speak simply out of exposure, knew that meant the other was bored, which was never a good thing.

“Right. Could you at least get off my bed?”

“Why?” Joshua didn’t shut his book, but his gaze shifted over to Neku, smirk still firmly in place. “I’m not disturbing anything. Or is this too much like a particular fantasy of yours for you to be comfortable, dear?”

“Not even close.” Neku snorted derisively, but Joshua’s smirk only widened.

“Oh? What needs to be changed? Should I be covered in whipped cream, on my knees, or—”

“Shut up.” Not for the first time, Neku wondered if Joshua could actually read his mind, at any time he wanted. He didn’t know the extent of the Composer’s powers, which was a little terrifying, because Joshua could already read him so easily, like the book in his hands, knew him well enough to find every weak spot, every point he could get under Neku’s skin.

“Such a reaction, Neku.” Joshua’s eyes narrowed slightly in interest and Neku felt far too exposed for comfort, but tried to play it off as annoyance, looking away from the bed.

Sometimes, he’d have a dream like that, which would start off mundanely but ended up in some back alley, or a bathroom, or at WildKat, once, with Joshua kneeling on the floor, Neku’s hand buried in his hair, saying yes, fuck, more. And then Neku would wake up, hard and in a cold sweat. He didn’t know if those or the dreams where they just held hands were worse, because it was so completely fucked up that he should want Joshua in any way, or even that his subconscious did. All the manipulation from before wasn’t enough, apparently, because Joshua managed to make everything a convoluted mess without even trying, his very presence frustrating and grating and somehow a relief too, since Neku felt more of a pang than he liked to admit that day at Hachiko, when he realized Joshua really wasn’t going to show up.

“Look just—off the bed.” In the back of his mind, he realized how petty it was to be getting irritated over such a minor thing, considering how many other, bigger, issues he had a right to be pissed off about, but frustration and hurt and half a dozen other conflicting emotions were bubbling up, so rationality was kicked to the wayside.

“I’m comfortable.” Joshua’s gaze flicked up, smirk gone, finally, and Neku felt a tiny sliver of triumph at that.

“Do I look like I care?”

“You could be a little more courteous. Is this how you treat all your guests?” Joshua tilted his head to the side slightly before giggling, unfazed yet again. “Or am I just special?”

“No.” Magnetic was more accurate, to the point that Neku wasn’t sure if it was Joshua that kept tripping him up and jerking him around, or he was tangling everything himself and willingly following. And that, that was the most aggravating of all. He reached out, wrapping his fingers around Joshua’s arm, giving him an insistent tug.

“Neku.” His tone was warning, tinged with irritation, enough for him to set his book aside. Good. “Let me go.”

“Make me.” The retort was childish, but Joshua was obviously unused to being treated this way, annoyance almost palpable, so Neku didn’t care, even when he felt a sparking buzz of power under his hand, like a static shock. “Is that all you’re going to do, oh powerful Composer? Maybe if you can’t intimidate me, you’ll actually fucking say something to me for once.”

“Say something to you?” Joshua tried to jerk his arm away, but Neku tightened his grip. “Whatever do you want to hear?”

“Not—” Nothing with pretense, nothing convoluted. He wanted to hear something Joshua meant. But that wasn’t going to happen, and Neku bit back the words. “Nothing you’re willing to tell me, probably.”

“I’m willing to do some things.” Joshua smirked again, but his gaze was still sharp and narrowed.

“You—fuck.” Neku felt a surge of anger and resentment, unsure if the brunt of it was directed at Joshua, or himself, or the both of them, but unthinkingly he yanked on Joshua’s arm until he nearly toppled off the bed. He hadn’t really factored in any retaliation on Joshua’s part, but as soon as he felt fingers grip his hair and pull, hard, Neku understood he had made a pretty bad mistake. Hissing, he stumbled back a few steps, finally letting go of Joshua’s arm before he felt the other’s knee hit the bottom of his ribs. Thankfully, the kick wasn’t forceful enough to knock any air our of him, since Joshua was already off-balance, but it caused enough of a twinge that Neku brought his fist up reactively, hearing Joshua let out a soft cry of pain before he released the hand he had in Neku’s hair. He was disoriented for a second, scalp still tingling and knuckles aching from the impact, but once he got his bearings, he looked up to see Joshua standing near the opposite wall, fingers pressed on a bruise already blooming across his jaw and cheek.

It was weird, seeing him like this, and in a rush Neku realized Joshua was still, inexplicably, the person he had thought was willing to die for him. That wouldn’t change, everything he felt before and because of that wouldn’t change.

“Well.” Joshua finally spoke up, voice biting and sardonic. “I hope you got that out of your system, Neku.”

“Not even close.” He made it across the room quick enough that Joshua tensed, as if expecting another hit, but Neku simply braced his hands on the wall and leaned in for a kiss. It was more than a little satisfying to hear Joshua’s breath hitch, whether it was from surprise or pleasure, it didn’t matter. The lapse lasted for a few heartbeats before Joshua seemed to recover, hands tugging Neku closer as his lips parted.

The heat from the kiss, his tongue, was borderline intoxicating, a sharp contrast how cool his touch was against Neku’s flushed skin. His mind was hazy, spinning, thinking it was strange for it all to feel this good, but Neku just slid his fingers into Joshua’s hair, nearly cradling the back of his head, feeling the other’s little hum of pleasure reverberate against his mouth. Neku’s pulse was thrumming, stuttering, and he had to lean away, finally, to breathe, Joshua nipping at his bottom lip slightly as he pulled back.

Panting, Neku still couldn’t quite gather his thoughts, except for that Joshua’s hair felt nice and that his eyes were actually a darker purple near the center, mottled like the mark along his jaw. And, slowly, Neku became aware of the fact that probably hurt, and how his own minor injuries were starting to ache.

“Josh.” His voice came out too soft and breathy for his liking, and he cleared his throat to cover it up, but Joshua was already smiling, smugly, and Neku pushed back any urge to punch him again. “Um. D’you want some ice for that?”

“Hmm?” Neku gestured vaguely to his own cheek in response. “Oh, for the bruise? I suppose so.”

“I’ll be right back.” He let out a breath and stepped away, turning towards the door.

“You won’t take another swing at me if I get back on the bed, will you?”

“What? No.” Neku threw a glare over his shoulder, but the other was completely unperturbed. “Asshole.”

Joshua just giggled, the sound of it following Neku as he headed down the stairs, two at a time, for ice and painkillers.

A/N: Ah, hello again, fandom. It’s been a while since I wrote anything for these two, but my muses concerning them have been kind recently, so more is on the way, hopefully. The title comes from the song “Kiss With a Fist” by Florence+The Machine.

Melting Point [1/1]

2011-09-23T02:48:56Z

Title: Melting Point [1/1]
Author: Melly
Rating: MA/NC-17
Characters/Pairings: France/Canada
Warnings: Language, explicit sex, rimming.
Summary: Matthew’s a little too hesitant about giving in to his own kinks, but Francis, better than anyone, knows how to get the other to open up.
A/N: De-anon from the kink meme with minor edits. Now with 100% less formatting fail, I hope. This was fun to do, so I hope you all enjoy it too!

When Francis returned to the bedroom from tidying up in the kitchen, he found Matthew lying facedown on the bed, his head pillowed in the crook of his folded arms. His hair was still damp, and he was wearing nothing but a pair of dark blue boxers, so it seemed the other had just gotten out of the shower.

“Are you sleeping?” Francis shuffled over to the edge of the bed, lowering his voice enough so has not to wake Matthew, in case he had dozed off.

“Hm? No, just resting.” He raised his head a bit, blinking at Francis slowly. “Didn’t hear you come in.”

“I was quiet, since I didn’t want to disturb you.” Reaching out, Francis brushed the back of his fingers against Matthew’s cheek.

“You don’t have any work to finish tonight?”

“No. I’m all yours.” He smiled, leaning in for a kiss, which Matthew returned eagerly, sighing and bringing a hand up to curl in the hair at the base of Francis’s neck.

“Good. I missed you. So much.” They exchanged soft, wet kisses between words, Francis nibbling lightly on Matthew’s lower lip before pulling back enough to speak normally.

“I missed you too, cheri,” he murmured against the other’s jaw. “You’re not too tired from your trip, I hope?”

“No, no—I’d rather spend time with you than sleep, anyway.” He tilted his head to the side, exposing more skin, and Francis took the invitation, sucking and nipping his way down Matthew’s neck and to his shoulders. Straightening, Francis moved onto the bed so he could straddle Matthew’s waist, bending down to press openmouthed kisses along his spine.

“You have such nice skin.” Francis nuzzled the space between Matthew’s shoulder blades in emphasis.

“And your beard itches.” He laughed, but despite his words, he arched up into the touch of Francis’s hands against his sides and more kisses along his back.

Eventually, Francis reached the waistband of Matthew’s boxers, hooking his fingers under elastic. When he received no protest, he slipped them down and off, moving back up to once again trail his lips over Matthew’s skin. Francis slid his hands down over the other’s sides, the small of his back, before finally cupping Matthew’s ass.

“Mmm—” He shivered, pressing back into Francis’s touch. “What are you doing?”

“You have a cute butt, you know.” Francis chuckled, squeezing his fingers as he started to move his hands in small, slow circles. “I’m just appreciating it….you always cover it up with hoodies or baggy jeans, it isn’t fair.”

“O-oh…” Matthew’s voice had gone breathy, his ears bright pink from a blush, and something quickly dawned on Francis.

“You like this?” He ran a finger along the cleft of Matthew’s ass, earning a soft gasp in response.

“I—yes, but don’t—”

“Don’t?” Francis stopped his movements, confused. “Whatever for, mon ange? If you enjoy what I’m doing, then what is the problem?”

“It’s embarrassing,” Matthew said, ducking his head, and even though Francis couldn’t see his face, he was positive the other was biting his lip. “I didn’t want to say anything.”

“And what have I told you?” He pressed butterfly kisses to the small of Matthew’s back soothingly. “You don’t need to be ashamed of what you want, especially around me.”

“If you’re sure. I mean, if it doesn’t—you know—”

“I’m very sure.” He settled into a more comfortable position, smiling. “Lift your hips up for me, mon amour—ah, that’s it.” Matthew complied readily, and Francis swept his fingers up from the other’s thighs to his ass again. He was gentle at first, touch light, before his grip tightened and he slowly spread Matthew open.

Francis paused, letting himself drink in the sight Matthew’s body, the arch of his spine and the perfect heart shape of his ass, before licking a line up from Matthew’s balls to his tailbone. It was a bit odd at this angle, not being able to see the other’s expressions, how his eyes must be wide now, mouth open, but Francis could hear Matthew moan, feel him shudder, and it was almost as good.

He swiped his tongue across Matthew’s hole, deliberate and slow, hands still kneading the muscles of his ass. Matthew was using the pillow to muffle his pants and whimpers, thighs trembling, and Francis chuckled, the vibrations causing Matthew to let out a soft, choked groan.

“You don’t have to hold back so much.” He pulled back so he could talk, still keeping his hands still gripping Matthew’s ass firmly. “Don’t put your face in the pillow. I can’t hear you that way, and I want to.”

“Okay, okay, just—ah, keep going.” Matthew lifted his head, glancing over his shoulder quickly at Francis. His eyes were dark, half-lidded, cheeks flushed a deep red.

“Of course.” Francis flicked his tongue around the rim of Matthew’s hole quickly before slipping it inside and feeling the heat from the other’s body against his mouth. Matthew arched back, practically writhing, hands scrambling to find some sort of purchase in the sheets.

“Oh, oh God, Francis, Francis--don’t stop, don’t stop, dontstop.” His words were hitched, breath coming in ragged little pants, and he sounded so good, Francis had to take a moment to concentrate away from the way his own cock was straining against the fabric of his pants. It was wonderful when Matthew got like this, lost all inhibitions, even better when Francis knew he was the cause.

He slipped his tongue out, running it along the outside of Matthew’s hole before delving it back in again, causing Matthew to rock his hips back to match the rhythm. He was repeating a litany of yes, oh, Francis, yes, trailing off into a high, stuttering moan when Francis moved one of his hands down to wrap around Matthew’s cock and start stroking. He lasted a few quick pumps before his body went taught, coming all over Francis’s hand with a soft, strangled cry.

Matthew’s muscles were shaking with exhaustion, after, and he rolled over so he could look at Francis, brushing sweaty hair away from his face.

“That wasn’t…um…gross or anything, for you?”

“Not at all, cheri. It’s you.” Francis shrugged, as if that was answer enough, and it was for Matthew, who smiled, blissfully. “Can you turn back over for me?” He complied, easily, so trusting, and Francis wondered what he ever did to deserve someone so wonderful.

“I couldn’t really see, but did you—did you come yet?”

“No, but I have something I want to do.” He gripped Matthew’s hips and lifted him up until he was arched, on his knees again, back sloping down to his head resting on the pillow. He reached over to the bedside table for lube, because even with the saliva and precome, it wasn’t quite as smooth as he would have liked. Francis slipped out of his pants and underwear, slicking up his cock with lube before settling it in the cleft of Matthew’s ass. He felt the other tense, surprised, for a moment, before relaxing and pushing his hips up in just the right way. Oh, he loved how Matthew caught on fast.

“Thought you were going to, you know, actually push it in.”

“Oh, no. Not what I had in mind for the moment, but later, if you’d like.” He shifted until he was comfortable, not in a position that would be too much of a strain on his back. He slipped his hands down to grip and press the cheeks of Matthew’s ass against his cock.

Francis started thrusting, shallowly, rubbing himself off. He still couldn’t see the other’s expressions, but he was never at a loss of things to admire concerning Matthew, and leaned over to pepper kisses across the other’s back worshipfully. He murmured endearments in French, feeling Matthew clench around him as the roll of his hips quickened.

“Does that feel good?” The question was almost a whisper, and Francis bent down to press his lips to Matthew’s neck.

“Very good,” he moaned, hands clenching tighter as he felt heat start to coil in his stomach. “You are—oh, dieu, so lovely, Mathieu.” He peppered more kisses along Matthew’s skin, catching the gentle scent of honeysuckle from his shampoo or soap, Francis couldn’t quite tell, but he was already lost to the friction, how Matthew felt under him, how he moved so perfectly.

It didn’t take much longer for him to come, especially when Matthew started talking him off—Francis, c’mon, come for me, on me, I want you to, please—and he was left panting and dazed in the aftermath, having enough mind to roll off to the side before he collapsed. Matthew curled up next to him almost immediately, letting their legs tangle together.

“That was…pretty great,” he said, face pressed against Francis’s chest. “I guess I should listen to you about saying what I want.”

“It leads to good things.” Francis smiled. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Matthew nestled closer, ignoring the come still streaked across his back for the time being. “So much.”

“But, you know, it’s fun to try to find your soft spots. Like a treasure hunt, almost.”

“Really?” Matthew laughed, his breath warm against Francis’s collarbone. “Well, we do have the whole weekend. Hunt away.”

“I think that means you aren’t going to leave the bed,” Francis mused, but from the way Matthew was holding him, tight and warm and a little possessive, he didn’t expect the other would mind in the least.

A/N: Ahahaha, measuringlife continues to be my kinky Franada porn enabler. Not like that’s a bad thing, of course! This was really enjoyable to write, I gotta admit. More kinky things to come, hopefully!

Up-Do [1/1]

2011-09-16T04:50:56Z

Title: Up-Do
Author: Melly
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: France/Canada, mentions of UsUk.
Warnings: Mentions of sex
Summary/Prompt: France as a show of how much he trusts and loves Canada, lets him brush and style his hair. Matthew helps Francis get ready to go out, and discovers that a trivial task is rather revealing of Francis’s feelings.
A/N: I was cutting it close with this one, but it’s a sweet prompt, and I had fun with it. Leave it to a deadline to kick my inspiration into gear, aha. Hope you all enjoy this!

Matt blinked awake when he heard Francis come out of the bathroom, a cloud of steam wafting in behind him. He thought he could get a few more moments of sleep, but a quick glance at the clock told him he should be getting dressed soon, and he pushed himself upright with a soft sigh.

“I didn’t tire you out too badly, did I?” Francis grinned at him, a towel draped around his bare shoulders.

“No, that was mostly the meeting’s doing.” Matt covered a yawn with the back of his hand. “Though, I hope my collar can cover most of these hickeys.”

“I couldn’t help myself, your neck is tempting.” To make his point, Francis shuffled over to the edge of the bed and leaned forward to nuzzle Matthew’s throat. “Will you do me a favor?”

“Depends on what it is.” He squirmed away, laughing, at the feeling of Francis’s stubble against his skin. “If you’re asking for another round, that means we’d have to get cleaned up again.”

“As enticing as that is, no. We do have a dinner date to make. I just need you to dry and style my hair, if you wouldn’t mind.” The request was a little odd, since Matt was sure he had seen Francis perform the tasks by himself before, but he nodded anyway, stretching when he got off the bed.

Francis went to get a hairdryer and brush, while Matthew dragged a small chair in the corner of the hotel room closer to a wall with an outlet. Francis took a seat after bringing back the necessary tools, leaning back while Matt bent down to plug in the dryer.

“I’m not sure about styling anything, you know,” he started, turning the setting up to med heat. “That’s not too warm?”

“That’s just perfect. And you could put it in a tie…you like how I look with my hair up, don’t you?” Francis let out a small, contented sigh, and leaned back in the chair as Matt started to brush his hair.

“I do.” He flushed a bit, making sure to concentrate the air from the blow dryer on the patch of hair he had between the bristles of the hairbrush, like he had seen Francis do before. “You look nice that way.”

“Mm, well, you’ll have to keep your hands off me until we return here, then.”

“I should be saying that to you,” Matt protested. “And don’t kiss or touch me just to annoy Arthur, okay?”

“Oh, mon cheri, are you saying that so I don’t get into an argument, or you only want me kissing you if it’s for a good reason?” Francis chuckled, reaching behind him to touch Matt’s wrist gently.

“Can’t it be both?” His voice lowered, and he didn’t know if Francis could hear him over the noise of the dryer.

“I’ll behave if you’re so concerned. Although I can’t really speak for your brother, but I assume Arthur is bent on keeping him in line for the most part, now that they’re together.” There was a pause, and Francis dropped his hand before continuing. “You think when I kiss you it doesn’t mean anything?”

“No, that’s—that’s not what I—” He fumbled over his words, not sure how to explain that being genuinely kissed meant all of Francis attention was focused directly on him, and Matt liked that most of all, but the other’s hair was dry by then and he chose to say nothing. Instead, he brushed any remaining tangles out, admiring how the locks caught the light, golden and smooth.

After procuring a tie, Matt started pulling Francis’s hair back with his hands, needlessly letting the strands fall through the gaps in his fingers a few times, just to feel the softness of it. He had always liked Francis’s hair, ever since he was a colony, the color and the texture and the way the other would wear it. But when Matt was told he inherited the same sort of hair, the feature became a point of connection, almost, even though he didn’t put as much care and products into it as Francis did.

“If it makes a difference…you’re the only one who’s not a professional that I’ve trusted with a brush near me.”

“What?” Matt’s eyebrows furrowed as he gathered Francis’s hair back into a ponytail, pulling the tie off his wrist with his teeth.

“I mean you’re the only one I’ve let dry or style or do anything with my hair,” Francis clarified, shrugging. “Besides the actual stylists I go to, that is.”

“Really?” A few twists of the hair band, and Matt was done, taking a small step back. “You must have let others…”

“No. Just you.” Francis reached around to touch the ponytail before turning in the chair to face Matt. “You did a good job. Merci.”

“Why? I mean, why did you let me…?”

“I trust you, and you’re gentle.” He smiled, eyes bright, and oh, he really did look good with his hair up. “And you seem to like playing with my hair, so it’s a benefit for everyone.”

It was silly, almost, since it was such a trivial task, but Matt felt his pulse flutter, warmth expanding in his chest at the thought that he was the only one Francis had asked to take care of something he obviously took pride in. Bending down slightly, Matt wrapped his arms around Francis as best he could with the other sitting in a chair.

“I love you,” he murmured, catching the scent of lavender as he pressed his face into the crook of Francis’s neck.

“I love you too, mon ange.” Matt felt Francis give his forearm a light squeeze. “Now, as much as I’d like to forget about dinner and spend the rest of the night in your arms, I’m afraid if we are late Arthur will never let me hear the end of it.”

“All right.” He pressed a kiss to Francis’s temple before he pulled back. “Let’s get ready. Could you give me a hand with my tie? I can’t ever seem to do it right unless it’s on another person…”

“Of course.” Francis made a tut noise with his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “Anything for you, Mathieu, but honestly, how did you manage before?” Matt merely smiled in return, warmly, taking comfort in the intimacy present in the smallest of gestures.

A/N: And there's the last of my fics for the event! Not sure what time period this is, but it is early in their relationship. This is also a bit of my headcanon in general, that Matthew is the only one Francis lets do anything to his hair, since they both have the same silky French style, aha.

Love or Fear of the Cold [1/1]

2011-08-08T05:37:34Z

Title: Love or Fear of the Cold
Author: Melly
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: France/England
Warnings: Drinking, language, allusions to sex
Summary: Long ago, Francis made a promise, and Arthur is starting to wish he would keep it.
A/N: For aph_fluffathon. This was a really adorable prompt, so I had to pick it up, and it had been a while since I wrote this pair, so it was a good thing all around. Enjoy!

His hiding place wasn’t the best, chilly from the damp earth and dark from the shadows cast by the branches and twisted, massive roots, but Arthur pressed himself closer to the trunk of the tree, shivering. He could hear his name being called, the sound of it getting closer, and he hoped that the little hollow he was nestled in would be enough to keep him from detection. The small rabbit he held was getting restless, but letting it go would mean giving away his position, so Arthur tried to soothe it by petting its ears instead, hoping the sudden silence meant that whoever was looking for him had gone away. But he had no such luck.

“There you are!” Glancing up, Arthur saw Francis peeking his head over one of the roots, smiling brightly. “What in the world are you doing hiding here?”

“Go away,” he muttered, glaring.

“Are you upset?” Francis moved over until he was kneeling in front of Arthur, hands on his thighs. “Were your brothers picking on you again?”

“No.” Arthur sighed, letting go of his rabbit, which immediately hopped over to Francis and sniffed the hem of his tunic. “Not in the normal way.”

“Normal way?” The other frowned, briefly, before turning his attention to the animal nibbling at his clothing. “What did they do?” When Arthur did not answer right away, Francis huffed in frustration and stood, brushing the dirt off his knees.

“Are you leaving?”

“Yes. But you should come with me.” He scooped up the rabbit, and Arthur felt utterly betrayed when the creature sat docilely in Francis’s arms instead of biting him. “Can’t leave you in the woods for the wolves to eat you.”

“I’d think you’d like it if I got eaten.” Frowning, Arthur made his way out of the niche in the tree, but he refused to look at Francis.

“Of course not. Then where would I get my fun?” He laughed, warm and lilting, as he walked down the path that led out of the forest. Once in the field that lay beyond the trees, Arthur plopped himself down in the tall grass, near the shade, and Francis stopped beside him to set the rabbit down. “No retort to that? My, you really must be upset…”

“No,” Arthur murmured, finally. “I’m going to be alone.”

“Alone? We’re all alone at some point.” Francis bent down to pick some of the wildflowers scattered in patches around the field, tying their stems together. It wasn’t as if he could understand. He was of a different cast than Arthur, vibrant and magnetic and colorful. It wasn’t the same.

“I remember being by myself before…when there was no one.” Arthur watched the rabbit chew a blade of grass. “I didn’t like that. I don’t want to think about it happening when I’m older, but my brothers all said it would.”

“They are just trying to rile you…” Francis paused for a long moment, and all Arthur could hear was the rustling of the grass before he felt a soft weight perch on his head. Reaching a hand up, he felt a crown of flowers nestled in his hair, the petals soft and smooth against his fingers. “…but if you’re so worried about it, I’ll marry you when we’re older.”

“Marry me?” Arthur was startled, staring up at the other with wide eyes, before the words hit him fully. “That’s—you—you’re an idiot! You can’t marry me! And what makes you think I want to?”

“It’s just an offer.” Francis’s eyebrows rose, grin smug and amused from Arthur’s reaction. “You said you didn’t want to be alone! So if you haven’t found someone that can put up with you when we are older, and I haven’t found anyone that holds my interest, we can get married. But you have to do something about those eyebrows before we do.”

Arthur’s face was still hot from a blush he told himself was out of anger, but Francis, as infuriating as he was, had always been a bright spot, vivid and compelling. He was someone Arthur copied, someone he fought with, someone he thought about. And, occasionally, he would watch Francis when he was sure the other wasn’t looking, and felt something warm and slightly irritating, a strange mix of relief and happiness and frustration that confused him.

“All right,” he murmured, finally, looking out over the field, little houses on the far hill, and the horizon beyond. “I’ll hold you to that promise.”

*****

Arthur was forced abruptly out of his dream—memory—when he felt his side and arm collide with the cold floor of the bar. Blinking, he tried to reorient himself, but the room was tilting and he was seeing double, two identical pairs of legs clad in expensive Italian wool standing a few feet in front of his nose.

“I warned you that you were leaning over to far on your chair.” With some effort, Arthur rolled over onto his back and squinted up at Francis. “You’ve had too much.”

“Leave me ‘lone.” Even though everything in his vision was rocking back and forth like he was on the deck of a ship, he was thinking about having a beer on the floor just to spite the other. Instead, Francis unceremoniously hoisted him up, arm tight around his waist, and started dragging him out of the bar before Arthur could get his alcohol-laden mind to process the events. “Get off me!”

“Honestly, I don’t listen to what you tell me to do when your sober, much less when you’re like this.” He felt the breath of Francis’s sigh against his cheek. “And don’t you dare vomit on my shoes.”

Once outside, the night air was enough to clear Arthur’s head to the point where objects settled, for the most part. Francis managed to hail a cab when one happened by, and once it came to a stop, he opened the door before lowering Arthur onto the seat. After the door was closed, Arthur dazedly leaned his head against the window and only briefly registered Francis had walked around the cab and slipped in from the other side before the cab started driving.

The ride was in silence, Arthur staring blankly out at the passing streetlamps. Bits and pieces of the memory he had dredged up kept replaying over and over in his mind, clips of conversation and sensations. It was something he’d forgotten—forced down, more like it, since it resurfaced now, when he was utterly pissed.

He thought when the cab reached his house that Francis would leave him to himself for the rest of the night, but after throwing some money to the cabby, Arthur was a little surprised to realize Francis was following him up to the door.

“Don’t you have a hotel to go back to?” Fumbling in his pockets, Arthur finally managed to dig out his keys and clumsily unlock the door.

“And leave you to fend for yourself like this? You’d be drunk dialing me in no time.”

“Fuck you.” He planned on collapsing on the couch and hoping Francis would be gone by morning, but a few steps into the living room and he felt a wave of nausea, stomach lurching. He managed to stumble into the bathroom before heaving, arms perched on the rim of the toilet. Between bouts of vomiting, he heard Francis shuffling around, the sound of his footsteps alternately fading away and growing closer. Raising his head, Arthur saw the other step into the bathroom carrying a glass of water.

“Drink this,” Francis said, setting it within reach. “You know, every time you invite me to go drinking with you, it ends up in a situation like this.”

“Then stop coming along.” Groaning softly, he shifted over enough to grab the glass. When Francis didn’t respond, Arthur took the time to rinse his mouth out before speaking again. “You promised to marry me.”

“Excuse me?” He almost sounded affronted. “If you are bringing up any treaty business now, I’ll have you know—”

“No, no, you daft frog.” Arthur waved his hand around behind his head, weakly. “When we were kids.”

“When we were—oh, that.”

“That?” Looking up, he found Francis’s expression cold and unreadable. “You mean you remember?”

“Yes. I was hoping you had forgotten, or were too ashamed to bring it up again.” Francis sighed, wrapping one arm around his torso as he leaned back against the sink. “The deal to keep you from being lonely.”

“What?”

“Do you want to marry me?” He was exasperated, on edge, and Arthur was too drunk and unwilling to deal with Francis when he was in one of those moods.

“No.” Arthur flushed the toilet before getting to his feet and making his way out of the bathroom.

“Then why bring it up?” Francis asked, gaze following Arthur’s movements. “Calling in a favor because you’re tired of being alone? That’s no good reason to marry someone, Arthur.”

“That’s not what I—” The stairs were daunting in this state, and Arthur was trying his best to ascend them without falling and breaking something, but he stopped halfway up, gathering his thoughts. “You’re like a lamp.”

“A lamp? Not a loveseat or a nice armoire?” His tone was mocking, scathing, and Arthur’s hand tightened on the handrail. “Couldn’t you think of something more fitting?”

“You’re like a lamp. A lamp that is a horrid color with a gaudy shade that I keep thinking to toss out but I never do. It just sits on a table and becomes a part of the room and if someone ever moved it or it was gone I’d notice.”

“You’d notice?” Francis stepped out of the bathroom’s doorway and stood at the foot of the stairs, one eyebrow quirked.

“Stop nitpicking, you know what I mean.” Arthur huffed, turning around to walk the rest of the way up the stairs.

“So you don’t want to marry me because I already fit in with the other furniture?”

“Yes.” He managed to kick off his shoes before staggering over to the bed and falling over onto the mattress. “You kept your promise.” He had, through bouts of fighting and inexplicable tenderness and nights like this, muddled from drink where they’d say endearments an insults between kisses and Arthur would try not to remember the morning after how nice Francis’s hands felt or how his voice caught when he came.

“Did I?” The bed dipped and Arthur turned over to watch Francis settle back on the pillows. “You’ve been a thorn in my side since we were young…I suppose it’s only appropriate.” He draped his arm across Francis’s lap in affirmation, eyes fluttering closed when the other started stroking his hair. “I’ll make breakfast in the morning—if you’re not too hungover and murderous, that is. Go to sleep.”

And Arthur did, fingers loosely curled in the fabric of Francis’s shirt, as comfortable as when he was a child, taking naps in warm, bright fields.

A/N: I really should write these two more, this was fun! The title comes from the song “Winter Winds” by Mumford & Sons.

Godsend [4/4] COMPLETE

2011-07-14T08:31:27Z

Title: Godsend [4/4] COMPLETE
Author: Melly
Rating: MA/NC-17
Characters/Pairings: France/Canada (main), Us/Uk, Spain/Romano, and Germany/Italy.
Warnings: Language, drinking, some violent imagery, and sexual situations.
Summary: Guardian angel AU. Matthew’s one desire is to be closer to Francis, the person he protects. But to do that he needs to, somehow, make himself visible.
A/N: Longer note at the end. Enjoy!

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3

The walk back from the restaurant was silent, trudging through the snow as the flakes came down thicker. Anxiety settled, disquieting and leaden, in the pit of Matt’s stomach, his thoughts becoming a little frantic. He had enjoyed himself at dinner, meeting Francis’s friends and the kiss beforehand, but now that the elation he felt at getting kissed and feeling like he was a solid part of the other’s life was tapering off into doubt.

When they reached the apartment and Francis was digging out his keys from his pocket, Matt finally spoke up, putting himself in front of the door.

“About—about what happened before,” he started, unable force his gaze anywhere but the floor. “If I’m someone who you want a one night stand with, or something like that, I just don’t want you to kick me out after. Don’t make me watch everything from afar again, Francis, please.”

The only response Matt received at first was silence, which made his chest tighten in panic, but once he gathered enough courage to glance up, he saw Francis was staring at him, mouth open slightly in shock. He seemed, for the first time since Matt had known him, lost for words.

“I—no, that’s not why—” He shook his head, running a quick hand through his hair to collect himself. “You came here, just for me, and I would never—I care about you far too much to simply discard you, as you are suggesting.”

“I’m losing my wings,” Matt admitted in a rush, hands clenching into fists at his sides. “I don’t know what will happen if they disappear entirely, but I won’t—I won’t be an angel anymore. I won’t be something beautiful for you to admire. I’ll be as overlookable and forgettable as I ever was and you won’t—” He stopped himself, feathers ruffling in irritation and anxiety, just like a bird’s. Taking a small step away from Francis, he felt his back hit against the door, an unsubtle reminder that he couldn’t get away from this.

“I won’t what, Mathieu?” Francis’s voice was soft, tone coaxing, and when Matt didn’t answer right away, he brought a hand up to brush the back of his fingers against the other’s cheek lightly. Matt almost felt like sobbing.

“You won’t love me.” The words felt torn out of him, choked and pathetic, but Francis didn’t jerk away in surprise or aversion, his hand still moving gently over Matt’s cheek.

“You really don’t think you’re someone I would have fallen for regardless?” Matt simply shook his head, reaching out to curl the fingers of one hand around Francis’s upper arm.

“Just don’t forget me. Whatever happens.”

“I would never,” Francis murmured, leaning so close their noses bumped together. “Promise…I promise…”

Matt pushed himself off the door just enough so their lips met, feeling relief and exhilaration shudder through him. He was finally something concrete, something that belonged instead of a spirit watching someone else’s life.

Francis was fumbling to get the key in the lock, his free arm wrapped snugly around Matt’s waist as they continued to kiss. After another second or two, Matt felt the support of the door give way behind him and stumbled back into the apartment. He gasped softly in surprise, lips parting, and Francis took that as an invitation to delve his tongue into Matt’s mouth, running it over his teeth.

He tried to return the intensity of the kiss, flicking his tongue against Francis’s, but his knees were starting to feel weak and he twisted his fingers in the front of the other’s shirt, letting out a soft moan. As they moved slowly towards the bedroom, Francis slipped off both their jackets, freeing Matt’s wings. Stretching them out, Matt felt the other’s fingers on the bone along the top, his touch hesitant, and he pushed his wing up into Francis’s hand in encouragement.

The kiss was broken when they reached the doorway of the bedroom, Matt’s breath coming in soft pants as Francis continued stroking his wings.

“You don’t mind that?” He asked, and Matt shook his head, lips feeling swollen and tingling.

“No. It—mm, it feels really good.”

Taking the cue, Francis slid his hands down across the feathers, tilting his head to press wet kisses down the other’s neck. Matt shivered, trying to undo the buttons on Francis’s shirt without popping any off as he took a few more shaky steps back towards the bed.

“Wait—”

“Why? What’s—what’s wrong?” Matt trailed his fingers down the other’s chest and stomach, voice taking on a pleading edge.

“Nothing’s wrong, cheri.” He felt Francis lick over his Adam’s apple and let out a soft moan, hands clenching against Francis’s sides. “But if you get on your back when we do this, it could hurt your wings.”

“But I want you in—the feel of you—I just—” Matt flushed, unable to finish the sentence out of embarrassment and the fact Francis had started nipping and sucking at the pulse in his throat, causing his thoughts to jumble.

“Ah…” Matt could feel the other’s smile against his neck. “I see. Not a problem. You could just ride me.”

“O-okay.” He shifted around awkwardly, so their positions switched, Francis grinning up at him as he quickly and deftly unbuttoned Matt’s shirt, easing it off his shoulders and over his wings. Breath hitching, he curled a hand in Francis’s hair as the other started kissing over his collar bone, down his chest and to his stomach, where he licked at the skin below Matt’s navel. Francis on his knees in front of him, eyes dark and smile downright wicked, was making Matt’s pulse kick, but he didn’t realize he was tugging on Francis’s hair until he saw the other wince. He murmured a rushed apology, pulling his hand back before Francis kissed the very top of his hipbone in reassurance.

“Non, Mathieu, it’s fine, it’s fine.” Matt could feel Francis’s stubble rub against his skin and he bit back a soft noise of pleasure. “You didn’t hurt me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” Francis fiddled with the button of Matt’s pants, before finally popping it open and pulling down the zipper.

“The way you were looking at me, I just…wanted you to do something,” Matt admitted, feeling the heat from a blush creep up his neck.

“You’re rather eager.” Smiling again, Francis tugged at Matt’s pants and boxers until they pooled at his feet. “Nothing wrong with that.”

“Um. Can we—?” While it was flattering and a little arousing that Francis was simply staring and admiring him, Matt was nearly aching with want, and he wasn’t sure how long he could keep standing if Francis decided to draw things out more. “Unless you’re going to do something down there, I mean.”

“Mm? Oh, well…” With one last little nip to Matt’s inner thigh, Francis stood, hands moving to the button of his own slacks. “…it seems like you want to move to the bed. Besides we have plenty of time together, so there will be opportunities for other things.”

“Other…?” Matt kicked the clothing caught around his ankles aside as he reached out to wrap his arms around Francis’s torso, pressing close enough their chests touched. It was almost too much to hear Francis say aloud that this wasn’t just for one night, and Matt pressed a few sloppy kisses to the other’s neck, fingertips pressing into his back.

“Yes.” Francis chuckled, slipping off his own pants and underwear. “I’m talented with my mouth, for one…”

“Oh—” Matt’s blush deepened, but he reached down to cup Francis’s ass despite feeling more and more self-conscious. The soft little moan the other made in response, however, made his insecurity dissipate slightly, and when Francis shifted back onto the bed, Matt climbed on as well, straddling his hips without hesitation. Still laughing softly, Francis reached over to the bedside table and pulled out a small bottle of lube, popping open the cap before spreading some on his fingers.

“Lift your hips up for me…” He murmured, and Matt did as instructed, leaning forward enough for a quick kiss, feeling Francis push one finger into him a short moment later. It wasn’t painful, exactly, just not quite enough, and Matt pushed his hips back against Francis’s hand.

“You can—more. Please.” A second finger was added, and then a third before Francis twisted his wrist and hit a spot that sent Matt trembling to the very tips of his wings. “T-there, oh God, right there.”

“Ah, like that?” He let out a soft whimper when Francis started pumping his fingers, peppering Matt’s face with butterfly kisses. “You really are so beautiful…”

“Um…” Matt managed a smile, breath coming in little gasps, and he wanted to say you are too, but the words faded into a quiet, displeased noise at the loss of feeling when Francis retracted his fingers. Although, soon he took it as a hint and straightened up, reaching behind him to take Francis’s cock into his hand. Biting his lip, he guided Francis into him, watching the other’s reactions, the way Francis’s cheeks flushed and his mouth fell open slightly, hair fanned out across the pillows. Once Matt was fully seated he let out a breath, taking a moment to adjust before starting to roll his hips against Francis shallowly. His movements were awkward at first, unsteady, but he eventually fell into a bit of a rhythm, letting out a deep moan when Francis thrust up to meet him. Bending down, Matt bent down to kiss and nip along Francis’s neck, licking over the marks that bloomed up.

“Oh, mon ange, that feels good.” Matt could feel the breath of the words on the base of his jaw. “Mathieu—”

“Harder. Harder, please.” Francis complied, and Matt attempted to match the pace, but he completely melted when the other curled his fingers into the feathers of Matt’s wings. The sensation was overwhelming, almost unbearable, and he arched back, practically writhing. “Yes, yes, Fr-ah-ncis—”

It didn’t take much longer before his entire body went taught, too breathless to make much noise as he came, hands tightening against Francis’s shoulders. His muscles clenched, and he felt Francis shudder beneath him, thrusts becoming erratic as whispered a litany of Matt’s name, voice catching when he finally reached his climax. Matt let out a soft groan when Francis’s fingers clenched tighter in his wings, his whole body feeling pleasantly raw. Francis kissed his temple, nuzzling at his damp hair as they both caught their breath, bodies still tangled together.

Whatever might happen, Matt thought, he would always have this.

*****

He woke up to sunlight streaming through the windows and nothing but feathers beside him. It had been a week since he took Matt to the restaurant, a week since they came back and made love. A week since he promised the other he would never be forgotten. Matt had been there to greet him every morning for seven days, and now, he was nowhere to be found. It was almost as if the past months were a dream, that the previous night where he whispered I love you to the form next to him was just a fantasy.

At first, he decided he was overreacting, and got up to dress and search the house. When Matt could not be found, he went out, checking to see if the other went to visit a café or bookstore as he sometimes did. But he did not turn up anywhere, and did not return to the apartment when night fell.

And Francis despaired. The cruelty of it, that he would be granted something so wonderful only for it to vanish, was almost tormenting. But his angel, his Mathieu, really was gone, and he was alone.

The following day, however, he was pulled out of his grief by Arthur, who had left half a dozen voicemails and decided to show up at Francis’s door when all of them went unanswered. Reluctantly, and out of fear the other really would make good on his threats of breaking down the door, Francis let him in.

“What is wrong with you? You look like hell.” Arthur was glaring, annoyed and concerned when he was finally in the apartment. “And where is Matthew?”

“Ah, well…” Francis gestured vaguely, unsure how to explain without sounding like a complete lunatic. But he had told no one about what happened, and he felt it might eat at him worse if he didn’t say something. “Perhaps there’s something I should tell you.”

Simply for something to do with his hands, he went to the kitchen to make tea, Arthur following after him. Once Francis started explaining, the rest of it flowed easily, a secret he’d been holding for too long. Arthur took it surprisingly well, his expression never changing, even when Francis showed him one of Matt’s feathers that he saved.

“That’s quite a story,” he said, finally, tapping a finger against the side of his teacup. “Especially the part about the spell…it sounds like something I’ve read in a book of mine.”

“Well, not to alarm you, but there’s an angel protecting you as well.” Francis saw no reason to keep that fact hidden anymore, either, and stared down at his drink.

“That’s what he is?”

“You knew about it?” It was a little odd that Francis felt more surprised about the revelation than Arthur, but the other merely nodded.

“Well, I knew there was some presence following me around. I have a sixth sense you know.” A while ago, Francis would have snorted derisively at such a notion, but after his encounter with Matt, he was more open to the possibility of strange happenings. “He didn’t seem malicious, so I didn’t bother to get rid of the spirit.”

“His name is Alfred, if you’d like to know.” He took a sip of tea, shrugging one shoulder.

“Alfred? Why does that sound famil—oh. Oh, good God.” Of course, a name would be the thing to shock him. “Do you know what he looks like?”

“I’m afraid not. I only know what Mathieu told me.”

“If that’s…who I think it is…I—” Arthur put a hand to his forehead. “I met him at a bookstore, and I—well, I gave him my number, but he never called me. He died?”

“If he’s the angel around you, then yes.” Francis glanced thoughtfully around the kitchen. “I wonder if he feels guilty.”

“For not calling me? That’s no reason to watch over me.”

“Then he must really like you.” He cracked a smile for the first time since Matt disappeared when he saw Arthur’s cheeks flush. “I would wish you luck, but my situation didn’t turn out all that well, did it?”

“Francis.” Arthur leaned over the table slightly, tone serious. “You may think my opinions are crock, but that spell isn’t designed to make anything just vanish into thin air. Maybe it timed out, but things only change form or are misplaced. They never disappear completely.”

“I promised not to forget him.” Francis’s smile softened into something more wistful. “And I won’t. But it still feels like I lost him.”

“I know, and I’m sorry.” Arthur shook his head. “But don’t—wait, do you have a heating vent near my seat? It got very warm all of a sudden.”

“No.” He almost laughed. Lost didn’t mean gone. Not for him, and not for the man and angel sitting across the table. “I think that’s someone saying hello.”

*****

The place was newly opened, small but elegant and was recommended to Francis by one of his clients. He had wanted to try a new place for lunch, and since the late spring weather was agreeable, he took a table on the restaurant’s outdoor patio.

It had been a long year of looking and hoping and seeing things that weren’t there. He brought flowers to the cemetery where he met Matt sometimes, sketched his face on scraps of paper, stopped and stared at people in crowds who looked like him. None of it was fruitful, yet, and he still woke up sometimes, heart aching from a dream where he was holding Matt, the ghost of his kiss still lingering.

“Sir? Can I get you anything?” Francis thought to raise his head and ask the waiter for a glass of chardonnay, but the gentle voice sounded like something from a memory, and his breath caught. Glancing up, he found himself looking into eyes a shade of indigo he remembered only one person having. It was all the same, every plane of his face, the curve of his shoulder and hip, the way he held his pen. Everything right down to his smile, that beautiful, shy, lovely smile.

“Dieu…” Francis scooted his chair back and stood, stepping around to table to stand in front of the waiter.

“Sir?” The other’s expression changed into a mix of wariness and confusion, but Francis pulled him into a tight, possessive embrace.

“Mathieu. My sweet, darling Mathieu, I finally…” He inhaled sharply; the other even smelled the same. “…we found each other again.” There was a long pause, before Francis felt Matt’s arms wrap around him, hands curling into the back of his shirt.

“Francis?” The name was barely a whisper.

“Yes, mon ange. It’s me.” He heard a sob, Matt practically clinging to him now. The other patrons were probably staring, but it didn’t matter, nothing mattered except that the person he loved and looked for was in his arms again. “I didn’t forget.”

A/N:
[Edit, please read]: Um. My apologies, since there was a lot of confusion over the ending here...I edited out a part where Arthur spoke more on the spell, because I thought it was too heavy handed. It's added back again: but that spell isn’t designed to make anything just vanish into thin air. Maybe it timed out, but things only change form or are misplaced. They never disappear completely.
Again, my apologies for confusing everyone. You hit and miss some, and I guess that edit was a miss. Hopefully that change helps.

And it’s done! This one was a bit of a rough ride, but I am pretty pleased with the end result, and I do hope you like it too.
I realized I left Arthur and Alfred’s side bit pretty open ended, but that also means it can go any way you want it to. I might write an omake someday, but…
A special thanks to measuringlife and dagoras for giving me ideas. You guys rock.
And so does everyone who reads and/or comments! You guys are amazing, and I cannot thank you enough for reading and enjoying my work. Until next time.
<3
Melly

Godsend [3/4]

2011-07-03T07:29:54Z

Title: Godsend [3/4]
Author: Melly
Rating: MA/NC-17
Characters/Pairings: France/Canada (main), Us/Uk, Spain/Romano, and Germany/Italy.
Warnings: Language, drinking, some violent imagery, and sexual situations.
Summary: Guardian angel AU. Matthew’s one desire is to be closer to Francis, the person he protects. But to do that he needs to, somehow, make himself visible.
A/N: Sorry for the wait on this. I had some trouble with where I was going to take it, but hopefully everything’s worked out to satisfaction. Enjoy!

Part 1
Part 2

He realized it one morning, sitting at the kitchen table and drowsily staring at a spot on the opposite wall, when Francis set down breakfast and coffee in front of him and said, voice soft and fond, “there you go, mon ange.”

“My angel?” Matt, already reaching out for the mug, looked up questioningly at the other.

“Mm? Yes. It’s rather literal, but I think it fits as a petname.” Francis smiled over his shoulder, getting his own food before sitting down across from Matt. It was a routine, their routine, something comfortable and pleasant they had fallen into. And even though Francis had to meet with clients today, Matt always tagged along with him when he ventured out for inspiration, stopping to sketch a lamp, or chair, or bench. They talked then, about Matt’s life before he died, how he left to go work when his parents divorced, most of his family in another town miles away, how he wanted to run a little café or bakery or something he could call his own, someday. Francis would listen and respond and talk about himself in return, about his exploits in college, his friendships, his family, his job. He had mentioned, another morning, when they went out for breakfast and walked around the park, that he liked to take bits of the beautiful things he found as he went and capture them, somehow, on paper or in his mind.

“Maybe I should just quit and become an artist,” he had said, laughing, and all Matt wanted to do was take the other’s hand and lace their fingers together, to feel how perfectly they fit together.

He sipped his coffee and watched Francis flip through a magazine, absently scratching the stubble on his chin, and Matt felt his heartbeat stutter at the sudden fantasy he had of leaning across the table and pressing his lips to the other’s, tasting the fruit Francis liked to put on his waffles instead of syrup. He wanted to be Francis’s angel, to be something more than the simple, comfortable relationship they had presently. But how could he possibly take a step towards that?

“Oh, merde.” Matt was jostled out of his thoughts by the sound of Francis pushing his chair back and standing. “I’m going to be late if I don’t head out.”

“Have a nice day.” Matt smiled up at him, wondering how nice it would be if he was able to give Francis a goodbye kiss when he went off to work.

“Merci. Don’t stay out too long if you start feeling dizzy again.” Francis waved over his shoulder as he went to pick up his black messenger bag from where it rested near the door.

“You don’t need to worry.”

“But I do.” Francis turned around in the hallway, peeking through the door to grin at Matt. “Just take care of yourself.”

“I will,” Matt said, just as Francis shut the door behind him on his way out. He sighed a bit, and finished up his breakfast before cleaning off his plate and mug. Matt wandered back to the living room after that, to the big window by the bookcase, and looked out at the people moving along the streets directly below the apartment building and the cityscape beyond.

It was getting worse, the dizziness and the exhaustion. More worrisome than that, however, was the fact that Matt suspected he was losing his wings. Feathers were falling off when they hadn’t before, ending up on the sheets, the floor, the countertops. They did not seem to be growing back, and Matt was terrified it was an indication of worse things to come. If all his feathers were lost, he did not know what that would mean, what it could lead to.

There was a flutter outside, a glimpse of a familiar form, and despite the cold, Matthew pushed the window wide open. He leaned out, looking around, and finally spotted Alfred, image nearly transparent and wavering, perched on the adjacent apartment’s sill.

“Hey!” Alfred smiled, leaning forward slightly. “I didn’t know if you’d seen me or not.”

“It’s getting harder to,” Matt admitted. “And actually…I need to talk to you about that. I think…I think I might be losing my wings.”

“Seriously? Is that like, backlash from the spell or something?”

“I don’t know what it is.” Matt shook his head, tucking a bit of hair behind his ear. “Feathers keep falling out…what will happen if they all do?”

“Well, you know, maybe this is a good thing,” Alfred said, brows furrowed in thought. “The spell so you can exist along with regular people, so you losing your wings could mean you’re becoming one of them.”

“Human?” The idea of that, of living again, was nearly impossible to believe, and the more Matt thought about it, the more a suffocating anxiousness came over him. “No…”

“No?”

“I—if I’m human Francis won’t—” He inhaled sharply, glancing down at the cars stopped at an intersection rather than Alfred. “Francis loves beautiful things. And right now, with my wings, I’m something…special to him. But if I lose that, I don’t know what he’ll think.”

“Mattie, that’s crazy.” Alfred pushed himself off the ledge, hovering in front of the window. “You’re beating yourself up over nothing. It’s not like Francis would abandon you.”

“But he wouldn’t—it wouldn’t be enough for me. I want to be able to kiss him when I want to, and hold hands when we go out, and make love in the mornings—” Matt blushed up to the roots of his hair at the slip, but Alfred was uncharacteristically quiet, and made no quip about it. “I think I might have wanted those things before the spell, but now that it’s closer…”

“I get it,” Alfred muttered, finally. “There was a lot I wanted too.”

“What? With…with Arthur? But you never—”

“I knew him before I died.” Matt took a small step away from the window, taken aback, opening his mouth to ask for an explanation, but Alfred provided one after he took a deep, bracing breath. “I ran into him in a bookstore, and I think we got into an argument over something, but then we started talking. I asked for his number when I had to go because, you know, even though he dresses all old-fashioned, he’s kinda cute. He said no one ever really asked for his number or anything, and the look he gave me, I just—I promised I’d call him. And then I went to the bank…”

“…and you were killed,” Matt finished.

“S’why I can’t bring myself to face him.”

“But, Al, he probably didn’t know you died! If he did, I think he’d forgive you for—” He realized he could see the building across the way through Alfred. The other’s image had always been faint, but never completely transparent. “You’re disappearing.”

“What are you talking about?” Alfred’s voice was faint, and Matt had to lean further out the window to catch the words.

“I can barely see you!” And then he could see nothing at all, but the same street and buildings as he always did when he looked out the window. “Alfred? Are you still there?” He felt a gentle warmth on his shoulders, but that soon faded away, leaving Matt to stand alone in the apartment.

*****

It was snowing like had been the day he first met Matt, the flakes swirling down slowly, benches and streetlamps already dusted with white. Because of the cold, they walked close enough their shoulders brushed, and Francis had the urge to link arms with Matt, something that could assure him the other was solid and there and real. His beauty, pretty white wings and indigo eyes and lovely smile, seemed so ephemeral, when Francis simply wanted to cling to it, the warm presence of his very own angel.

“You know the people that own this place, you said?” Matt stopped in front of the brick archway that framed the entrance to the restaurant, brushing snow off his shoulders and hair.

“I do. They’re good friends of mine.” Francis turned to face the other, feeling his breath catch when he noticed how Matt was smiling at him, the tip of his nose and cheeks turned pink from the cold. And he realized then that he would have fallen for sweet, endearing Matt had he still been a waiter at a café.

“Aren’t we going to go in?”

“In a minute, mon ange,” Francis murmured, leaning forward to press a kiss to the other’s lips, and then another, hearing Matt let out a little gasp before melting into it, his hands coming up to Francis’s shoulders. He kept it short, sucking on Matt’s lower lip slightly before he pulled back, brushing his thumb against the other’s jaw.

“I—” Matt was breathless, eyes wide in amazement and confusion. “Why did you…?”

“Because I wanted to.” Francis curled his fingers in the other’s hair. “I—let’s go inside.”

“O-okay.” Matt ducked his head, shifting back.

“We can talk later,” Francis promised. “Let me introduce you to my friends and treat you to some good food and wine first, hm?” Matt nodded, seeming reassured, and Francis reached over to push open the door to the restaurant to step inside. He was immediately greeted by an enthusiastic hug that temporarily knocked him away from Matt, followed by a stream of ecstatic Italian.

“It’s been too long since I’ve seen you, Francis!”

“Feli!” Laughing, he patted the other on the back before stepping aside so Matt could step further into the restaurant. “This is Mathieu. Mathieu, this is Feliciano.”

“Nice to meet—” Before Matt could finish, Feliciano gave him a hug that seemed more like a tackle, and Francis felt a small surge of fear at the thought Matt’s wings might be found, but luckily Feliciano had wrapped his arms around the other’s neck instead of his waist.

“Dammit! There are other customers, you know!” One of the chefs came out of the kitchen, scowling from where he stood at the front of the dining room. “I don’t want orders getting backed up.”

“Oh! Right! Just a second, Lovino.” Feliciano seemed unperturbed by the glare, and cheerfully took Matt’s arm before starting off towards the tables.

“Say hello to Toni for me, if he’s too busy working to come out,” Francis called to Lovino as he passed, the other merely grumbling in response.

“That’s my brother,” Feliciano explained to Matt as they went. “He and his boyfriend are the chefs. I’m with our manager and accountant, except Ludwig isn’t here right now, but he’s really good at his job.”

“Oh.” Matt was looking horribly overwhelmed, even when they were finally seated at a private table near the back.

“I’m really glad I got to meet you! Francis talks about you a lot.”

“He does?” Incredulous, Matt glanced from Feliciano to Francis quickly.

“It’s true,” Francis said, and grinned when he noticed a bright pink blush creep up to Matt’s ears. “Feli, could you get us a bottle of Chianti? The best year you happen to have around.”

“Sure thing.” Feliciano smiled brightly, before turning to go. “Enjoy yourselves!”

After a moment or two of silent perusal of their menus, Matt finally spoke up and asked, “d-do you really talk about me to your friends?”

“Yes. Good things, don’t worry, cheri.”

“I didn’t think—thank you,” he murmured, looking over at Francis with a shy smile. “I never considered I was really someone to talk about, but I’m glad you do.”

“I can’t really help it…you’re on my mind a lot as it is, so I just feel the need to mention you.”

At that, Matt slowly shifted his chair over, reaching out hesitantly, and Francis linked their fingers, letting their hands rest, clasped tightly together, on his lap under the table.

A/N: As I said, I was having a little trouble with this fic concerning where it was headed, but I now have settled on an idea, so hopefully the next part won’t be such an extreme wait. I do have other projects and fic events and such, but hopefully inspiration sticks around and I can get the last part out sooner than later.

Also, don't fret, the Alfred and Arthur plot isn't entirely wrapped up yet. Comments, as always, are enormously appreciated.