Systems End // Kis-My-Ft2
Extended 10min fic with the prompt "Finally, erase me."
Systems End
Kitayama/Fujigaya
PG-13, 825 words, software AU
Kitayama looks into Fujigaya's eyes, bright with emotion, and finds himself infinitely grateful for the defenses he's built up.
He's been trained for this sort of thing, countless hours of battling willpower against willpower, steeling his heart and body, forcing his emotions down with the bile. The training had been difficult, much more difficult than the actual work, and until recently Kitayama had looked back on his days of training with distaste, not understanding the necessity for such harsh conditions. But then he'd met Fujigaya five days ago, unexpectedly, on a routine run of the main processing center that shouldn't have turned up more than a little innocuous Adware, and suddenly he'd been grateful for the rigorous training he'd received.
Because Fujigaya...
Fujigaya is everything Kitayama had ever thought he'd wanted.
And everything he'd been taught to abhor.
Fujigaya is personable and fun, wild and reckless, flirtatious and teasing. He dances around - and then with - Kitayama until they both fall down in breathless laughter. Fujigaya is a maelstrom of emotions, laughing and snarling and crying with barely a pause in between breaths. It leaves Kitayama, who's only known order and rules, confused but also entranced. Fujigaya is beautiful, elegant, fucking sexy, and endlessly flawed in a way that makes Kitayama want to tear out his own hair (or maybe Fujigaya's).
But Fujigaya is a Virus, damn it all, and even as Kitayama can't help but give in to Fujigaya's sparkling eyes and breathless laughter, he knows that this flirtation isn't real. Fujigaya is just doing his job, luring Kitayama in and in and in, until Kitayama is blinded and defenseless, until Kitayama loses the fight, until Kitayama loses his heart, until Kitayama loses.
Still, Kitayama knows what he's doing too; he’s good at his job too. Kitayama is on the side of justice, and no matter what his personal feelings are, it's his responsibility to protect the system from the corruption of viruses. He knows he can't lose, there's more than his own happiness at stake. In any case, he's an Antivirus, the very antithesis of Fujigaya's being, after all.
So for five days he dances with Fujigaya, in and out of the most vital data centers, neither of them stopping to rest. He doesn't know how Fujigaya is programmed, but Kitayama knows he himself was made for solid routine runs, perhaps a day or two in length, not this long and arduous chase that keeps his internal clock ticking away until he's all wound up with tension and fatigue. But whenever he starts to feel tired, he takes a look at Fujigaya's smile that makes his heart twist, and he's able to find another reservoir of adrenaline to run on. It'll probably kill him, this run that wasn't supposed to happen, but he'd rather die than give Fujigaya up to be caught by one of the other Antiviruses.
He lasts longer than he expects, though. It's a full five days and some odd hours before Kitayama feels his program begin to get scrambled in his own over-heated body. He knows what that means - it's been trained into every Antivirus since the first time they learned their 0s and 1s: he's got an undetermined amount of time until his program crashes and all of his internal data is obliterated.
In a desperate bid for victory, he reaches out to grab Fujigaya's hand, whirls him around and crashes their lips together. It's throwing all of his training to the winds, it's making love to the enemy, but also he's going to crash soon and it's Fujigaya and he's been wanting this for his whole life, it seems.
Their dance becomes condensed, narrowed down, contained within the confines of their crushed and bruised lips. Tongue versus tongue they struggle, and Kitayama doesn't know if the heat coursing through his body is due to his desire for Fujigaya or his impending crash. The kiss goes on and on - Kitayama, for once, thinking of himself first and taking his fill of Fujigaya - until Fujigaya is making little whimpering noises of need into Kitayama's mouth - and then Kitayama bites down, hard, on Fujigaya's lip. It's hard enough to break the skin, and then there's the metallic taste of datastream on Kitayama's tongue.
"Ah!" gasps Fujigaya, pulling away and licking at his swollen, bleeding lips with the delicate tip of a pink tongue. "That was unexpected!"
"I learned from the best," Kitayama smiles crookedly.
Fujigaya grins at this. "What, they don't teach you how to kiss in Software Security school? Well but that's okay, you'll have plenty of chances to practice on other Viruses, no doubt." There's a flicker of an emotion in his eyes that Kitayama's only read of in fairy tales.
Kitayama wants to reply, to say that he's ending everything with Fujigaya, but his throat feels too tight to speak.
"G0 on th3n/" Fujigaya's words are starting to sound garbled, "Erase me."
Systems End
Kitayama/Fujigaya
PG-13, 825 words, software AU
Kitayama looks into Fujigaya's eyes, bright with emotion, and finds himself infinitely grateful for the defenses he's built up.
He's been trained for this sort of thing, countless hours of battling willpower against willpower, steeling his heart and body, forcing his emotions down with the bile. The training had been difficult, much more difficult than the actual work, and until recently Kitayama had looked back on his days of training with distaste, not understanding the necessity for such harsh conditions. But then he'd met Fujigaya five days ago, unexpectedly, on a routine run of the main processing center that shouldn't have turned up more than a little innocuous Adware, and suddenly he'd been grateful for the rigorous training he'd received.
Because Fujigaya...
Fujigaya is everything Kitayama had ever thought he'd wanted.
And everything he'd been taught to abhor.
Fujigaya is personable and fun, wild and reckless, flirtatious and teasing. He dances around - and then with - Kitayama until they both fall down in breathless laughter. Fujigaya is a maelstrom of emotions, laughing and snarling and crying with barely a pause in between breaths. It leaves Kitayama, who's only known order and rules, confused but also entranced. Fujigaya is beautiful, elegant, fucking sexy, and endlessly flawed in a way that makes Kitayama want to tear out his own hair (or maybe Fujigaya's).
But Fujigaya is a Virus, damn it all, and even as Kitayama can't help but give in to Fujigaya's sparkling eyes and breathless laughter, he knows that this flirtation isn't real. Fujigaya is just doing his job, luring Kitayama in and in and in, until Kitayama is blinded and defenseless, until Kitayama loses the fight, until Kitayama loses his heart, until Kitayama loses.
Still, Kitayama knows what he's doing too; he’s good at his job too. Kitayama is on the side of justice, and no matter what his personal feelings are, it's his responsibility to protect the system from the corruption of viruses. He knows he can't lose, there's more than his own happiness at stake. In any case, he's an Antivirus, the very antithesis of Fujigaya's being, after all.
So for five days he dances with Fujigaya, in and out of the most vital data centers, neither of them stopping to rest. He doesn't know how Fujigaya is programmed, but Kitayama knows he himself was made for solid routine runs, perhaps a day or two in length, not this long and arduous chase that keeps his internal clock ticking away until he's all wound up with tension and fatigue. But whenever he starts to feel tired, he takes a look at Fujigaya's smile that makes his heart twist, and he's able to find another reservoir of adrenaline to run on. It'll probably kill him, this run that wasn't supposed to happen, but he'd rather die than give Fujigaya up to be caught by one of the other Antiviruses.
He lasts longer than he expects, though. It's a full five days and some odd hours before Kitayama feels his program begin to get scrambled in his own over-heated body. He knows what that means - it's been trained into every Antivirus since the first time they learned their 0s and 1s: he's got an undetermined amount of time until his program crashes and all of his internal data is obliterated.
In a desperate bid for victory, he reaches out to grab Fujigaya's hand, whirls him around and crashes their lips together. It's throwing all of his training to the winds, it's making love to the enemy, but also he's going to crash soon and it's Fujigaya and he's been wanting this for his whole life, it seems.
Their dance becomes condensed, narrowed down, contained within the confines of their crushed and bruised lips. Tongue versus tongue they struggle, and Kitayama doesn't know if the heat coursing through his body is due to his desire for Fujigaya or his impending crash. The kiss goes on and on - Kitayama, for once, thinking of himself first and taking his fill of Fujigaya - until Fujigaya is making little whimpering noises of need into Kitayama's mouth - and then Kitayama bites down, hard, on Fujigaya's lip. It's hard enough to break the skin, and then there's the metallic taste of datastream on Kitayama's tongue.
"Ah!" gasps Fujigaya, pulling away and licking at his swollen, bleeding lips with the delicate tip of a pink tongue. "That was unexpected!"
"I learned from the best," Kitayama smiles crookedly.
Fujigaya grins at this. "What, they don't teach you how to kiss in Software Security school? Well but that's okay, you'll have plenty of chances to practice on other Viruses, no doubt." There's a flicker of an emotion in his eyes that Kitayama's only read of in fairy tales.
Kitayama wants to reply, to say that he's ending everything with Fujigaya, but his throat feels too tight to speak.
"G0 on th3n/" Fujigaya's words are starting to sound garbled, "Erase me."