Oct 282007
 

Title: Corybantic Dance (ch 11)
Co-authors: Haya
Characters:
Gekkou Hayate, Gekkou Ken’ichirou Shiranui Genma, Hagane Kotetsu, Kamizuki Izumo, Mitarashi Anko, Yamashiro Aoba
Rating:
T
Warnings:
Expletives, violence.
Notes: Anko pushes her luck. Kotetsu shows his true colours. Genma panics. Hayate gives up.


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.

Authors’ Notes: Today’s lesson: Kotetsu is not a pleasant individual, but he’s an unpleasant git who really cares about his friends. Genma still needs a bucket.

The Wryly Fantarding Q&A panel for Corybantic Dance is still located at wrylyfantarding.livejournal.com/5948.html

Warnings: Violence, expletives, eventual yaoi (KoIzu, KoIzuRai (more funny than sexy), GenHaya).


Chapter Eleven
"You know what? I think I’m starting to see what he likes about you." Anko stood up from the couch, watching Hayate’s hands move across the props table. "You’re kind of graceful." The kid had looked a little embarrassed earlier, but he hadn’t pushed her away. Maybe she could swipe Genma’s little toy right out from under him… Then she’d have all the toys, and as an added bonus, Genma would be furious. And the kid really was kind of cute, if you could look past the coughing and wheezing.

"Huh?" Hayate looked up from the props table, blinking dimly. "Oh. Um. Not really. But…thanks." It was awkward, because he definitely wasn’t accustomed to accepting flat-out compliments from Anko.

She stepped across the room, sidling up behind the kid like a weasel with a bird. "But you are…" she protested, laying her arms along his arms and weaving her fingers into his fingers. She turned their hands palm up. "It’s all in your hands. The way you move is just so smooth."

"I guess." Hayate looked down at his hands. They were so much paler, thinner than hers — the skin translucent, leaving the cold blue veins running underneath visible. He tried to shake her hands away from his as politely as he could. "Um. Gotta finish rearranging the table."

"That can wait for a minute." Anko put one hand on Hayate’s hip and the other on his shoulder, turning him to face her. A wild smile crept across her face as she studied him. "You really do look like you’d be fun to play with." She stared into his baffled eyes for a moment before leaning forward, flicking her tongue across his cold lips before she crushed her lips to his. Hayate let out a muffled sound against her mouth but couldn’t quite seem to get his legs or arms to work. He stood there against the props table, stock still and completely dumbfounded. He was fairly certain this was his first kiss, unless something had happened somewhere along the line that he wasn’t aware of. Hayate wasn’t generally given to thinking about this sort of thing, but he hadn’t imagined it to be like this, and most certainly not with a girl who otherwise seemed to disdain him. Well, he hadn’t really imagined it happening at all, much less with a girl, because girls — especially girls — just never seemed to like him. There was, unfortunately, glaring evidence to the contrary right then.

The howl of suddenly uncorked rage and despair that bubbled out of Genma’s chest as he stepped into the doorway of the green room was exactly the sort of thing that would have attracted Yamanaka’s attention, if the teacher in question hadn’t been on an errand to the main building. Genma would not have cared, either way. Kotetsu’s hands slipped off his back as he lunged into the room, leaping across the props table, and hauling Anko back by the hair. Hayate made some unintelligible noise of utter surprise before he bent over, coughing hard into his hands.

"Genma! Genma! Holy fucking shit!" Kotetsu rushed in, staring helplessly around as Genma threw Anko onto the couch.

"Don’t touch me, Ko. Just don’t. And you —" He pointed to Anko, voice dripping with venom. "— don’t you even think about moving. I should tear out your tongue and strangle you with it. How dare you?" Genma turned back toward Hayate, who was still coughing, and held out one hand to him. "You okay, kid?" He looked hurt and betrayed even as he told himself over and over again that this was all Anko’s doing.

Hayate finished coughing and looked up with the most mortified expression on his face — embarrassment mixed with appalled shock. "Am I okay?" he repeated hoarsely in disbelief, staring at Genma. Maybe he hadn’t asked for the kiss, but what Genma had just done seemed entirely uncalled for. "You just — "

"Territorial pissing." The words just fell out of Kotetsu’s mouth as he surveyed the scene.

Genma didn’t even spare the lights man a glare. "Yes, you. Are you okay? You’re all that matters to me, right this minute. You tell me you were doing that of your own volition, and I’ll just walk away. You tell me otherwise, and some conversations are going to be had." Genma’s shoulders hunched forward, like he’d been punched in the chest, and the hand that wasn’t outstretched curled into a tight fist. His face was blank and unamused, and if he looked calm on the first glance, on the second he was still and poised, waiting for the next cue.

Anko lay on the couch, checking for real injuries. Finding none, she sat up, and Kotetsu moved to tower over her. "I’m not real fucking thrilled, either, cunt."

Hayate just stared at them — all of them. "I’m not — I didn’t — " It was oddly hard to get his thoughts together into coherent sentences. He realized, after a moment, that it was because he was angry — in his usual mild, subdued way, but still angry. He swallowed, shakily, and tried again. "I didn’t ask her to do that. It wasn’t my idea and she didn’t ask me first. But — but why would you — that’s my business. I’m not a baby. I could have handled it all by myself, without hurting anyone!"

"I’ve never questioned your competence. I’m not going to start now. I’d have done the same for Rai." Technically the truth. Genma left out the part about his motivations. For Raidou, it would just have been that he was tired of watching his best friend get repeatedly misused. For Hayate, well, that was pure, unadulterated jealousy, and it still burned through him. "Anko?" Genma raised his voice just a bit. "I thought I told you to keep your fucking hands off him. I see that I should have specified other body parts, too."

"Well, if he’s good enough that you’ve got your panties in a bunch about him, I figured maybe I should take a ride, too. See what the big deal is." She revelled in Genma’s loss — both of control and possibly of her props fag — as she tallied her wins and the kid skinned the heroic triumph off of Genma. Her rapacious glee fell away as Kotetsu’s hand met her face.

"I told you once that I’m not like him. You are really starting to piss me off. Now do everyone a favour and shut the fuck up." Kotetsu was not, generally speaking, a violent individual, but watching Anko push Genma’s buttons was more than enough to push his buttons. It could only have been worse if she’d started with Izumo.

"Stop!" Watching the ugly scene before himself was making Hayate positively sick. "Don’t hit her! Just — " He swallowed, looking both angry and upset. Everyone looked ugly and guilty here. He snatched his backpack off the floor and pushed past Genma, heading for the door. "I’m going home." The nauseated tone was clear in his voice, thick and potent.

"Hayate, wait!" Genma felt like he was moving through molasses as he tried to run after the kid. "Please — I —"

"Shut up, Genma!" Kotetsu called after him. "Saying that’s not going to help right now! Tell him later, after he’s calmed down!"

Genma checked the sentence that was trying to exit his mouth. "Please, I’m sorry. It might not have been what you wanted, but I only did it because I was …" jealous "I care, goddammit!" He gave up and sat down in the middle of the floor, as exactly in the entire crew’s way as he could be. Hayate stopped and spun around, nearly losing his balance.

"You were going to hit her! And —" He turned to Kotetsu, still looking mortified. "And you did! It — you came in here without even knowing what was really going on and tried to hurt somebody over something stupid! It doesn’t matter if you were right or wrong, because you didn’t know! You were going to just beat someone up without really knowing what was going on! I don’t care how mean or crazy she is all the time, that’s not right!"

"I was not going to do it without knowing," Genma protested, his voice finally cracking. "I asked you as soon as I got her off you. I tossed her because it was the quickest way to get her clear. Do you know she’s come at me, before? Do you know why? It was because I turned her down. I refused to bounce her off my dick and she came after me to cut it off. Do you see where my concerns are, here?"

"Hey, I didn’t hit her hard. I slapped her. She needed to shut up." Kotetsu shrugged, looking just as innocent as he obviously believed himself to be. "If Izumo can slap me to shut my mouth, I can sure as fuck slap Anko."

Hayate’s mouth was open, but nothing was coming out. He couldn’t get anything to come out. He pulled at his hair briefly, now looking a lot less angry and just upset and distressed. "I’m going home," he said again, finally, and turned to leave. Everything good that had been going on seemed to have withered away just then. He wasn’t sure he wanted to keep coming to tech anymore.

Kotetsu walked to where Genma sat and hauled the older tech off the floor. "Come on, man. You don’t need to do this, here."

Genma nodded and let Kotetsu lead him back to the booth. He couldn’t really feel anything, at this point, and he hoped no one asked him any questions, because he wasn’t sure he could answer them. Shaking and dizzy, the world seemed to be moving too fast, but slowly enough that Genma swore he could reach out and touch the fabric of time. He clung to Kotetsu’s arm, dazedly, as the young tech tapped on the door of the booth. Izumo opened it, mouth already open to ask how it went, but he snapped it shut at the sight of Genma.

"What happened?" he asked immediately, looking at Kotetsu.

"Bitch was kissing the kid. It went south in a hurry." Kotetsu pushed Genma ahead of him, into the booth. "The kid took off. He’s pretty fucking pissed that we got involved. Finally got to take a hand to that demonic cunt, though. Not worth the effort, in the long run."

"You’ve gotta be kidding me," Izumo muttered, stepping aside to make room. Aoba shook his head with a sigh, helping Kotetsu get Genma inside. "Where’d the kid go? Should we be looking for him in case he gets hurt or something?"

"Said he was going home. I figure he’ll make it." Kotetsu closed the door behind himself, and absently stroked Genma’s hair as the stage manager finally broke down crying. "Hey, man, it’ll be okay. Kid’s just not used to how things work, here. He took worse offence to me than to you, I’m pretty sure. I’m the one who really hit her. You just sort of shouted at her and kept asking if he was okay. I mean, that’s gotta count for something."

Genma just leaned in the corner cursing and sobbing, hands hovering in front of his face. "Fucked up. Just wanted to…she was…she was…"

Kotetsu pulled Izumo to him with his free arm, holding his friend close. He quietly placed a kiss on Izumo’s cheek and thanked whatever gods there were that he’d gotten lucky like he had. Izumo patted Kotetsu’s hand but pulled away, moving over to Genma. "Hey," he said, gently but firmly. "Genma, look at — Genma, listen to me. Okay?" He reached out and put a hand on Genma’s shoulder. "It sounds like the kid just got a little freaked out and needed some space and time to calm down. You’re looking about the same right now. Here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to take some time to calm down and give the kid a little while to do the same. And then you’re going to go visit him and apologise, and have a nice friendly talk with him. Because you guys are friends. Okay?"

"Scared him," Genma sniffled, miserably. "He probably doesn’t want to see me at all."

"He was pretty fucking pissed when he left here. I don’t think it’s quite as bad as it could be, but hey, you’re not me, right? You’ve got an awesome argument right there. You threw her, sure, but you threw her onto the couch. It’s squishy. I just cracked her in the face." Kotetsu grinned as best he could, under the circumstances. "I’m not gonna say I was wrong to do it, mostly because I wasn’t, but the kid seems more offended by damage than violence. He’ll see you because you cared enough to try to protect him from that crazy fucking bitch, even if he didn’t know that at the time."

Genma hugged both Twins, still sniffling, but trying not to drip snot on them. "Thanks. I don’t know if I believe you, but thanks." Letting them go, he stepped forward and after a few seconds put his arms around Aoba’s waist, resting his head against the other senior’s shoulder. "Do you mind if I just stay right here for a few minutes? You smell nice and normal. It’s kind of calming."

Aoba patted Genma awkwardly, sighing a little. "I keep telling you, man, Old Spice," he said jokingly, but it was weak. "Don’t worry about it, man. You can stay here for as long as you want. It’s what I’m here for. And if you want, I can bring you to the kid’s house tomorrow or something, if he doesn’t show to tech."

"I love you. You’re the thoroughly obnoxious brother I never grew up with." Genma squeezed Aoba, just a bit. "Just too fucking good to me. All three of you, really. Too fucking good to me. Better than I deserve."

"You deserve even better, Genma. Don’t shit yourself. We’re just like you. You’re one of us; what are we going to do, let you rot?" Kotetsu’s hand went back to Genma’s hair. "And what the fuck conditioner do you use? I’m really weirded out by your hair. It’s a little too perfect."

Genma laughed, weakly. "Suave Coconut. Don’t tell anyone I told you. They’d never believe it, anyway."

"No shit. I don’t believe you." Izumo shook his head. "Hey, don’t go starving yourself of food and sleep again like you did last time, okay? It’s all going to be fine."

Aoba nodded, squeezing Genma back. "I think we’ll all just hang out in the booth for the rest of rehearsal. Objections?"

"None from me — I’m in enough trouble, out there." Kotetsu shook his head.

"I don’t think I could come up with one if I wanted to." Genma sniffled and made a small irritated sound when the after-effects of his tears did not instantly vanish. "I’m debating ditching early, but if there’s dinner after this, I should probably stick around. I know I’m not going to eat if I go home."

"Shit, of course there’s dinner after this. And it’s on me." Aoba patted Genma again.

Genma started to cry again. "God fucking dammit. I can’t make it stop. Fucking adrenaline…" He glared, weeping and snivelling, as Kotetsu started to laugh. "Shut up, fucker. You just wait ’til it’s you."

"Won’t be me. I’m not dumb enough to start crying in the first place, spaz. ‘Specially not after watching you do it." Kotetsu cackled. "I think it would just ruin my roguish good looks. What do you think, kitten?" He elbowed Izumo.

"I think if you call me ‘kitten’ again then I will make you cry." Izumo’s tone was largely joking, and he gave Kotetsu a playful shove. Aoba rolled his eyes.

"You see now why we never get any work done in the booth?"

Genma snickered, tears still rolling down his cheeks, and breathed in the comforting scent of one of his two best friends. Kotetsu was almost immediately back to his usual irrepressible self. He pressed himself against Izumo’s side, hands travelling over the safer parts of his friend’s body. "Aww! Why can’t I call you kitten? You’re so very sexy when I make you purr…"

Kotetsu’s hands were very promptly smacked away. "You are such an ass sometimes. Cut it out before I goddamn well castrate you."

"I don’t think he’s kidding, Ko. If you’re going to go on like that, I suggest getting a cup. A steel one," Genma teased.

"Aww, you wouldn’t castrate me. You love it too much when I —" And here the sentence dropped away into a breathy mumble, inaudible except to Izumo. Kotetsu looked hungry, and it reminded Genma of just how long it had been since he’d been touched like the Twins touched each other when they thought no one could see them. He really envied Kotetsu some days, but those were mostly the days when Izumo was being a bit less threatening. Aoba gave Genma a plaintive look, shaking his head as Izumo shoved Kotetsu into the wall of the booth and asked for the both of them to be excused for a few minutes.


The door was almost slammed shut — feet that normally trod silently on the worn hardwood floor stomped angrily, noticeably loud. Curiosity and concern reasonably piqued, Mr. Gekkou leaned into the hallway to see his son shuffling toward his own bedroom hurriedly and determinedly.

"You’re home early," his father remarked, but the intensity of Hayate’s agitation didn’t fully sink in until he caught the expression on the boy’s face. "Hayate? What’s wrong? Did something happen?"

"I’m fine." The words were huffed out — unusually snappish. "I’m going to my room. Gonna study." The boy didn’t spare his father a glance, his sneakers squeaking angrily on the floor.

His father stepped out into the hall, frowning. "Hold up a moment, Hayate. You’re upset. What happened?"

"I don’t want to talk about it." Hayate sounded like a small child on the verge of a tantrum, but quieter. Ignoring his father, he just about stormed into his room, shutting the door tightly behind himself. Mr. Gekkou rubbed his face tiredly and crossed over to Hayate’s door, knocking on it firmly.

"Hayate — open this door, please. Just tell me what happened. You don’t need to —"

"I said I don’t want to talk about it!" Hayate’s voice was muffled, but the agitated, shouting tone to his voice was clear. It only increased Mr. Gekkou’s concern — the quiet boy almost never raised his voice. But after another few failed starts at talking to his son, it was clear that Hayate wouldn’t budge. Mr. Gekkou was weary and had no desire to fight with his son — he’d come back when Hayate had calmed down, he decided, and headed back to the kitchen with a heavy sigh.