Title: Corybantic Dance (ch 10)
Characters: Gekkou Hayate, Shiranui Genma, Hagane Kotetsu, Kamizuki Izumo, Mitarashi Anko, Yamashiro Aoba
Notes: This chapter’s kinda short. Izumo protests all the ass-grabbing. Genma looks like he might need a bucket, again.
Disclaimer: Naruto is not our toy, although sometimes we wish it was. Almost everyone you meet here belongs to Masashi Kishimoto, we just borrow them, occasionally. Hayate’s parents, Gekkou Ken’ichirou and Gekkou Shizuka, belong to Haya Madison, and Genma’s mother, Shiranui Riza, is all Penbrydd’s fault.
Author’s Note: We apologise for this one being so short, but the next chapter should make up for it.
The Wryly Fantarding Q&A panel for Corybantic Dance is still located at wrylyfantarding.livejournal.com/5948.htm
Warnings: Violence, expletives, eventual yaoi (KoIzu, KoIzuRai (more funny than sexy), GenHaya).
There was one thing that could really be said about Hayate’s social skills, and that was that he didn’t really have any. He had enough to get by, sure, but he was painfully awkward and terrible with people, including himself. He had always had difficulty understanding people beyond the basics — happy, sad, angry, tired — and he certainly was never good on picking up on subtle cues or understanding people’s motivations, or even understanding what people were doing. For someone who was so good at a game of nuance and strategy, Hayate was awfully socially inept.
So when something seemed off with Anko starting the following day, and persisted when they returned to school after the weekend, Hayate just decided to dismiss it. Thinking about it wouldn’t lead anywhere, especially since he couldn’t quite put a finger on what it was. Things were going pretty well otherwise, and Hayate was willing to try and enjoy that. Aside from the occasional quirks and awkwardness, he was getting along fine with Genma and the rest of the boys too, he was talking more easily to his dad, and he didn’t seem to be getting exceptionally sick. Things were definitely looking up just a bit.
Genma had no complaints, either, aside from the usual ones about Anko. The show was going together fairly smoothly, and nothing in his personal life was particularly on fire. No one to save, no beatings, no nothing. Actually, things were fairly boring, and the more he considered that, the more it bothered him. He walked past the Caffeine Twins on his first round of the theatre, that afternoon, and slapped Kotetsu upside the head. "Keep your hands out of Izumo’s pants until you’re out of my line of sight."
"What!? I’m not — I didn’t — I haven’t even started, yet!" Kotetsu wailed after him. Izumo just snickered.
Still somewhat concerned about the lack of amusement in his life, Genma considered kissing Raidou, just for the punch in the face, as he leaned into the green room to check on Hayate. Anko was nowhere to be seen at the moment, something a little odd and perhaps alarming if it were anyone else but Hayate there right then. The kid seemed to have settled into the swing of things remarkably well for someone who had no theatre experience, rearranging the props table with an almost confident, fluid ease. ‘Confident’ was a word one didn’t usually immediately associate with Hayate, but then, Genma had never seen him play chess.
Hayate looked up from the table to blink at Genma, but it was his own sort of wordless greeting. "Hi, Genma." He wiped his hands of dirt that wasn’t there on the front of his shirt — his hoodie was tied around his waist, leaving him in just a wide-collared shirt with half-length sleeves. Drab, neutral colour, like most of his clothes, Genma had noticed.
"Hey, kid. How’s things?" Genma had been watching Hayate’s hands as he worked the table, but his eyes moved up to settle on the kid’s face. "I’m telling you, you’re just as good as she is — half as bitchy and twice as sexy, to boot." Tactless? Definitely. Worthwhile? Probably. For the first time, he noticed exactly how thin the kid really was — somehow, it hadn’t sunk in that Hayate’s lack of weight would be linked to an absence of flesh. Genma stuffed his hands in his pockets so that he wouldn’t be tempted to touch.
Hayate’s pale cheeks tinted faint red with embarrassment, and he busied himself with the table again, directing his eyes downward. "Anko’s in the bathroom," he said awkwardly, attempting to explain her absence. It was a total nonsequitur, but he’d learned well enough that talking about sex and anything related to it with Genma generally made him squirm.
"I don’t give a shit about Anko. You’re my point, here." Genma smiled a bit foolishly and opened his mouth to say more when he suddenly made contact with the refrigerator, as Anko slammed past him.
"Don’t give a shit about me, eh? Tell me something I don’t know." Anko grinned ferally at Genma and petted Hayate’s hair. "Get lost, Queen Molly. I don’t need you unsettling my props fag."
"Do. Not. Touch." Genma stared, dead-eyed, at Anko for a few moments, and then left the room in a far worse mood than he’d entered. Hayate smoothed out his hair absently, looking after Genma with a perplexed expression.
"Um…" He glanced up at Anko. He didn’t really mind if Anko touched his hair, even if he thought it was a little weird, but Genma apparently did. He wasn’t sure what had just happened here, but now it looked like Genma was a little upset. "Should I go talk to him? He looked mad."
"Don’t worry about Genma, he’s just sad that nobody’s lining up to suck his dick. Seems to take it amiss that I don’t let him get in my way." Anko patted Hayate’s back, with a cheerful smile. "It’s got nothing at all to do with you. He’s just afraid I fucked up his pretty face," she sniped, easily. "Probably in the bathroom crying about it, now."
Hayate looked at Anko with a mildly offended look on his face. "Genma doesn’t go crying about that stuff," he muttered, moving back to fix things on the props table. As he did so, he accidentally knocked a plastic cup half-filled with water off the table — he’d started bringing his evening medications to tech and taking them when no one else was in his immediate vicinity. Anko hadn’t commented about Hayate’s tendency to keep a cup of water in the green room, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t noticed.
"Oh. Sorry…" Hayate squatted down to pick up the plastic cup from where it lay in the small puddle of water that had spilled from it. "I’ll go get some paper towels or something from the bathroom."
As he stood up, Anko reached up for something on top of the coke machine behind him, effectively pinning Hayate to the machine as she searched it. She finally stepped back, after a good deal of squirming and stretching, with a roll of paper towel. "There’s always some in here. Cuts down on the door slamming." She eyed the table critically, exuding vicious amusement. "And kid? I don’t care what you drink in here," she purred, "but keep it the fuck off my table."
Hayate swallowed, ducking his head as he took the paper towels from her just a little too quickly. With the possible sole exception of the moment in the bathroom with Genma that he had sworn never to mention to anyone ever again, that had quite possibly been the most uncomfortable few minutes of his life. "Okay. Sorry," he muttered, quite honestly, and he turned to squat again in front of the puddle. Anko didn’t seem to be in a spectacular mood today either, he mused miserably, ripping a piece of paper towel off the roll to mop up the spill. At least it was only water.
"Just this once I’ll let this go," she said. "Just because it’s you. You’re…competent." Anko gazed down at Hayate as he cleaned the floor, and, after a few beats, turned on her heel and walked out to go back to terrorising the actors. Hayate watched her go, shuddered, and went back to cleaning the floor. He didn’t think he was ever going to understand Anko.
"Fucking kill her…" Genma snarled under his breath as he strode past the booth crew, looking placid as an oil slick, despite his state of mind. He nearly bit Kotetsu’s hand off, his teeth clacking just shy of the young tech’s fingers as the lights man reached out to touch his shoulder. "What?"
Kotetsu jumped back, crashing into Izumo, who grunted in protest and shoved Kotetsu off of himself. "You okay? I mean, you were fine five minutes ago…what the fuck did Anko just say to you?"
"It’s not what she said to me, it’s what I said to her." Genma just stopped, dazed, and turned to look back at the three techs he’d just passed. Aoba, Izumo, and Kotetsu were all giving him that wary but concerned look, keeping their distance but looking like they wanted to go nearer.
"Uh…exactly what did you say to her, then?" Aoba tried, bracing himself for a negative reaction.
Genma couldn’t quite pry his jaw open to speak, so the words were damaged very slightly as they passed through his teeth. "Told her to quit touching the kid. Not the first time I’ve had to say it, but the first I’ve said it in front of him. I swear she does it just to piss me off."
"Ah." Aoba rubbed the back of his neck, and Izumo sighed.
"What exactly is she doing, anyway? I mean, I imagine she’s not shoving her hand down his pants. We’d hear the screams in the cats."
"God help her if she did. I’d break every one of her fingers, girl or no." Genma chewed at the inside of his lip and glared at the wall behind Kotetsu, trying not to look as sick and hurt as he felt. "It’s just the same shit any of us do. But the way she looks at me when she does it…I know it’s stupid, and I don’t really care right now. I’m sure it’s all attributable to territorial pissing."
"Probably." Izumo reached over to pat Genma sympathetically, though carefully. "I’m surprised he’s not making a fuss about it himself, though. Didn’t he always get hot and bothered when you did that to him?"
"Bothered, yeah, but not so hot — if he got hot, I’m sure I’d be a little less pissed." It was a weak joke, and Genma knew it. "I want him. I want him all for myself, and preferably without her dirty handprints all over him. But she…and he lets her…" He looked completely nauseated by the idea. Genma usually wasn’t jealous. In fact, none of the techs had seen him get like this about anyone — it was usually all bravado, sass, and sex. This didn’t look anything like a normal round of Genma’s ravenous lust. Kotetsu raised an eyebrow and mouthed What did I tell you? at Aoba. Izumo smacked him on the shoulder absent-mindedly.
"Well, he obviously doesn’t see it as a bad thing," Izumo offered. "Maybe he thinks it’s good, even. Maybe he’s just starting to get comfortable with it, and maybe he likes it. Maybe he sees it as a sign that he’s accepted here." There wasn’t even a question of the fact that Hayate was accepted, but the kid had had a hard time understanding that at first. "And besides, he seems to let you touch him too, now." Izumo raised an eyebrow. "Kind of out of nowhere, too. He used to get jittery if you looked at him the wrong way, but just the other day I saw you giving him a hug, and the kid didn’t even flinch."
Genma just sighed and hugged Izumo. "Sorry about the dirty handprints, Ko." He grinned wickedly over the sound tech’s shoulder. "I just couldn’t resist the hands-on opportunity."
Izumo shoved Genma off of himself playfully, rolling his eyes. "I’m going to need another arm if I’ve got to keep four hands off my ass, now."
"Pssh. And there you go dirtying up my toys, again. Jeez, Genma, get your own," Kotetsu teased, and got a single finger salute in return.
"I want to believe that you’re right and that it’s all okay. I just don’t want to see…" With a grim look, he swallowed hard, unwilling to even voice the idea that Anko might really get to Hayate first. "Maybe it’s just time for me to figure out where the new limits are and go back to pushing them."
Izumo exchanged a glance with Aoba. "Pushing them how, exactly? You’ve got to be careful with that kid. I think he likes you — I mean, not that he shouldn’t, but we still have no idea when that happened — but that doesn’t mean he’s not going to get scared away if you push too hard. You might scare him away from tech entirely." He scratched his head briefly. "I doubt he said anything about it to you, but he came dangerously close to quitting a few times his first week."
"I blame Bitchzilla for the quitting thing." Genma gave Izumo a sideways look, struggling with the idea that the kid liked him, as opposed to just humoured him. "You really think he likes me? I don’t know about that…I mean, I know he’s glad to have friends, and that’s great, but…you think?"
"He lets you hug him, Genma." Izumo cocked an eyebrow. "Something has obviously changed here. I’m not saying it’s bad, but you can’t magically become friends with the kid who used to look like he was afraid of you and think we won’t notice…"
Genma nodded bravely, as if reassuring himself that Izumo was right. Kotetsu offered a thumbs up. "That’s it, man. You’re it. Bitchzilla’s got nothing on you."
"Walk with me, talk with me, Ko. I should go back and apologise for spooking the kid like that. I’m sure I didn’t look like my usual cuddly self, even if I did do my very best not to tear her ass off in front of him." Genma hugged Izumo, again. "Thanks."
Izumo rolled his eyes and batted lightly at Genma’s hands. "Yeah, yeah, no problem — come on, hands off, Genma. You know the rules."
Kotetsu pinched Izumo’s ass and followed Genma back toward the green room. "Wish us luck!"
Izumo reached out to smack Kotetsu’s hand but missed by a narrow margin, snapping a curse in his best friend’s direction instead. Aoba just shook his head, waving Izumo back to the booth. Maybe with Kotetsu gone, they could actually get some work done, and Kotetsu would help patch things up between Genma and Hayate. There, he reasoned, kill two birds with one stone.