[Drabble] Tangents 1, D18 (KHR!)
Instead of sleeping or working on my writer's craft assignment I decided to type up two drabbles I wrote on D18. woo. They didn't really fit with this fluff compilation I've been doing so I stuck them here.
Title: Tangents 1
Author: Me
Rating: G, dawg.
Pairing: D18... sort of.
Evidence
He wants the violence, the scratches, the animosity. He wants the metal taste of blood in his mouth. He wants the dirt caked beneath his fingernails and hair. He wants the bruises, the pain. He wants the skin against skin, metal against skin, leather against skin. He wants the feel of hair brushing against his fingertips. He wants the thin wrists encircled in his hands. He wants it. He wants it. He wants all of it. He wants him.
He wants to wake up to to a sore body and cold steel against his throat. He wants to find bird feathers littered around his hotel room. He wants to find purple spots blossoming on the body like cherry blossom petals scattering in Spring and know he put them there. He wants to memorize the feel of another person's body against his, wants to engrave the smell into his senses and just wants so much.
He can see the rise and fall of the chest beneath him, feel it shuddering with effort under his weight. The eyes glint dangerously at him, skin shines in the dimming light, clothes sticky with perspiration.
And the first kiss tastes like blood and sweat and violence - everything that is Hibari Kyouya. And it tastes right.
Even when Hibari's knee connects with his stomach and he doubles over in pain - there's pleasure in the pit of his stomach.
--
Mundane
The day Hibari dies is an uneventful day.
It is a normal day like any other. Even when the flames engulf the thin body and the explosion erases all traces of his existence, it is an unpeculiar day.
His is just another death upon deaths upon dead bodies that are never found again - or are found again at the bottom of a lake in a garbage bag - but it is just another death, another missing, another hit
except
that it isn't.
It isn't a normal day and his is not just a death upon deaths.
And May 5th will always burn a hole in Dino's stomach and make the acrid taste of bile rise in his throat - and he doesn't know if it's lucky or unlucky to be born on the day you will die.
Because Hibari is dead.
Mafia bosses aren't allowed to have memories, Dino thinks as he sits on the roof of what used to be Namimori High.
Even when he begs, pleads - please please just this one memory - he can already feel the fabric slipping beneath his fingertips, its master calling to it, to join him in the abyss.
Dino knows the Cavallone head is not allowed to have memories, knew it all along, knew it when he was born, so he just lets go.
He watches the thin red memory absorb into the sky, golden words stitched in it, and faintly, in the back of his head, he can hear the Namimori anthem.
--
Apologies if there are any typos.
Title: Tangents 1
Author: Me
Rating: G, dawg.
Pairing: D18... sort of.
Evidence
He wants the violence, the scratches, the animosity. He wants the metal taste of blood in his mouth. He wants the dirt caked beneath his fingernails and hair. He wants the bruises, the pain. He wants the skin against skin, metal against skin, leather against skin. He wants the feel of hair brushing against his fingertips. He wants the thin wrists encircled in his hands. He wants it. He wants it. He wants all of it. He wants him.
He wants to wake up to to a sore body and cold steel against his throat. He wants to find bird feathers littered around his hotel room. He wants to find purple spots blossoming on the body like cherry blossom petals scattering in Spring and know he put them there. He wants to memorize the feel of another person's body against his, wants to engrave the smell into his senses and just wants so much.
He can see the rise and fall of the chest beneath him, feel it shuddering with effort under his weight. The eyes glint dangerously at him, skin shines in the dimming light, clothes sticky with perspiration.
And the first kiss tastes like blood and sweat and violence - everything that is Hibari Kyouya. And it tastes right.
Even when Hibari's knee connects with his stomach and he doubles over in pain - there's pleasure in the pit of his stomach.
--
Mundane
The day Hibari dies is an uneventful day.
It is a normal day like any other. Even when the flames engulf the thin body and the explosion erases all traces of his existence, it is an unpeculiar day.
His is just another death upon deaths upon dead bodies that are never found again - or are found again at the bottom of a lake in a garbage bag - but it is just another death, another missing, another hit
except
that it isn't.
It isn't a normal day and his is not just a death upon deaths.
And May 5th will always burn a hole in Dino's stomach and make the acrid taste of bile rise in his throat - and he doesn't know if it's lucky or unlucky to be born on the day you will die.
Because Hibari is dead.
Mafia bosses aren't allowed to have memories, Dino thinks as he sits on the roof of what used to be Namimori High.
Even when he begs, pleads - please please just this one memory - he can already feel the fabric slipping beneath his fingertips, its master calling to it, to join him in the abyss.
Dino knows the Cavallone head is not allowed to have memories, knew it all along, knew it when he was born, so he just lets go.
He watches the thin red memory absorb into the sky, golden words stitched in it, and faintly, in the back of his head, he can hear the Namimori anthem.
--
Apologies if there are any typos.