long time no see
some song inspired ficlets for 8059, yamamoto/gokudera
Love Game
Lady Gaga
Yamamoto saw that certain light enter his eyes again, even though a small part of his mind urged him to consider that he could have easily mistaken the gleam of something else with a mere reflection of the rooms lighting. The exbaseball player squinted his eyes, willing his normally sharp eyes to adapt to the shocks of light coming off the dance floor where most of the celebrations were occurring. Across the room stood one of the most confusing men he had ever met, one who had the ability to completely blind-sight he whose remarkable intuition was renowned.
You could never tell with the Italian, he could be completely normal and in a completely normal situation and then do something contradictory to his rash, headstrong character. When hiding in a broom closet in final year unexpectedly leaning into an 'accidental touch' or part his legs slightly to accommodate the larger boy being 'forced' to lean on him. The softness of these encounters with boundaries removed Hayato always lingering in Takeshi's mind long after the bravo returned and the grey haired boy no longer wanted or needed whatever he gained from accepting, if even for a moment, a lingering touch from a wishful fool.
Dark eyes averted when their searching gaze was matched with a self-assured challenge. Yamamoto checked on the content on his glass, before downing it in a bid for some Dutch courage. Rising he thought, 'To hell with it, if you want to play a game..'
Too long / Steam machine
Daft Punk
The night was by no means young, nor was it pleasant to be outside in but this did not discourage the pair hidden in the shadows under the balcony. Paused in an intimate embrace, one leaning against the wall with hands hooking and pulling the head of the other downwards, hips jutting forward while the other pushes against the wall frozen, both with their belts partway undone, whispering fervently with foreheads plastered together
"it'll be good"
"you're still grieving Hayato.."
"you promised me such, just do it dammit"
"I promised to help you, this is exploi-"
Lips smash together with the same impact as a punch. A minute later they part, spittle linking their lips briefly before breaking
.
.
.
"do you need it?"
"n-"
"Shh I know you do, and I... I need it too"
From the spot under the balcony there is little disturbance to the night, just a rhythmic dance of two bodies with steam rising up to meet the moon
This is the end (for you my friend)
Anti-flag
A wave of dust preempts the breaking down of the door, splinters of wood near the lock burrowing into the carpet before the door finds the floor as well. A haze of cancerous smoke greets the irate man poised with one leg in the air outside the threshold of the apartment. His characteristic war-cry of 'Vooooiiiii' precedes his entering the place at a breakneck speed, seeking out the inhabitant and ripping it from it's soulless gaze by throwing it into the nearest wall.
"real men fight with weapons" is screamed and met with silence as other silver haired man slides bonelessly down to meet the ground, impersonating a puppet cut from it's strings perfectly.
"Greedy little bitch, is that hole closed yet. Have you found that person you are supposed to be."
light eyes raise to meet Squalo, his mouth moving, mind reeling to find an answer, an excuse, a reason, anything but the only thing that is forthcoming is silence. Afterall do you say to the mentor and self appointed big brother of the one who you betrayed so utterly into the hands of the enemy in a fit of insane jealousy.
"That's what I thought. Just so you know he's alive; crawled back to base two days ago. Everyone knows what happened, yet he's saying nothing incriminating"
Thick plastic boots collide with the bomber's chest, fracturing ribs and earning a whine of pain. The boot is twisted then replaced with an elbow allowing the Varia to get right into his face and whisper:
"betrayer, you are going to pay - he may forgive you but I'm not that kind. So I give you a just punishment-here come your enemies"
Love Game
Lady Gaga
Yamamoto saw that certain light enter his eyes again, even though a small part of his mind urged him to consider that he could have easily mistaken the gleam of something else with a mere reflection of the rooms lighting. The exbaseball player squinted his eyes, willing his normally sharp eyes to adapt to the shocks of light coming off the dance floor where most of the celebrations were occurring. Across the room stood one of the most confusing men he had ever met, one who had the ability to completely blind-sight he whose remarkable intuition was renowned.
You could never tell with the Italian, he could be completely normal and in a completely normal situation and then do something contradictory to his rash, headstrong character. When hiding in a broom closet in final year unexpectedly leaning into an 'accidental touch' or part his legs slightly to accommodate the larger boy being 'forced' to lean on him. The softness of these encounters with boundaries removed Hayato always lingering in Takeshi's mind long after the bravo returned and the grey haired boy no longer wanted or needed whatever he gained from accepting, if even for a moment, a lingering touch from a wishful fool.
Dark eyes averted when their searching gaze was matched with a self-assured challenge. Yamamoto checked on the content on his glass, before downing it in a bid for some Dutch courage. Rising he thought, 'To hell with it, if you want to play a game..'
Too long / Steam machine
Daft Punk
The night was by no means young, nor was it pleasant to be outside in but this did not discourage the pair hidden in the shadows under the balcony. Paused in an intimate embrace, one leaning against the wall with hands hooking and pulling the head of the other downwards, hips jutting forward while the other pushes against the wall frozen, both with their belts partway undone, whispering fervently with foreheads plastered together
"it'll be good"
"you're still grieving Hayato.."
"you promised me such, just do it dammit"
"I promised to help you, this is exploi-"
Lips smash together with the same impact as a punch. A minute later they part, spittle linking their lips briefly before breaking
.
.
.
"do you need it?"
"n-"
"Shh I know you do, and I... I need it too"
From the spot under the balcony there is little disturbance to the night, just a rhythmic dance of two bodies with steam rising up to meet the moon
This is the end (for you my friend)
Anti-flag
A wave of dust preempts the breaking down of the door, splinters of wood near the lock burrowing into the carpet before the door finds the floor as well. A haze of cancerous smoke greets the irate man poised with one leg in the air outside the threshold of the apartment. His characteristic war-cry of 'Vooooiiiii' precedes his entering the place at a breakneck speed, seeking out the inhabitant and ripping it from it's soulless gaze by throwing it into the nearest wall.
"real men fight with weapons" is screamed and met with silence as other silver haired man slides bonelessly down to meet the ground, impersonating a puppet cut from it's strings perfectly.
"Greedy little bitch, is that hole closed yet. Have you found that person you are supposed to be."
light eyes raise to meet Squalo, his mouth moving, mind reeling to find an answer, an excuse, a reason, anything but the only thing that is forthcoming is silence. Afterall do you say to the mentor and self appointed big brother of the one who you betrayed so utterly into the hands of the enemy in a fit of insane jealousy.
"That's what I thought. Just so you know he's alive; crawled back to base two days ago. Everyone knows what happened, yet he's saying nothing incriminating"
Thick plastic boots collide with the bomber's chest, fracturing ribs and earning a whine of pain. The boot is twisted then replaced with an elbow allowing the Varia to get right into his face and whisper:
"betrayer, you are going to pay - he may forgive you but I'm not that kind. So I give you a just punishment-here come your enemies"