Author: Mosh Note: You may not archive, re-post, or alter any of my stories without my permission. Please contact me first. Thanks! |
“Damn… Bastard!” Momo clenched his fists at his sides, his nails digging painfully into his palms. The hall was empty but for him, all the other students in class. His trainers squeaked on the lino as he walked, and apart from that the only sounds to be heard were the sporadic curses he let out. He wiped at the dark blue smudge staining his shirt, but only managed to spread the ink further in his frustration. “Shit.” As he rounded into the next corridor, heading for the toilets where he could at least try to wash the stain out before next period, something solid and heavy collided with his shoulder. Momo let out a sound embarrassingly close to a screech - damn voice hadn’t fully broken yet, to his chagrin - and fell back against the wall. His hand shot out from where he’d been clutching his shirt front, but was immediately caught up in a strong, sweaty fist and held against the wall. “What the-?” “Fssshh, idiot,” said a cold, rough voice. As Momo looked up his expression darkened further. “Mamushi! You bastard, what the hell do you think you’re doing, making a fool of me in class like that-” “You make a big enough fool of yourself already,” Kaidoh said, leaning in close. His breath was hot and familiar on Momo’s skin. “It’s your own fault for showing off in front of those girls, twirling your pen like that.” “Oy, but you didn’t have to laugh when the cartridge exploded!” “It was funny,” Kaidoh simply said. He scowled as he leaned in, only it wasn’t the usual scowl - not the one Momo saw in class or on the courts. There was something decidedly focused about this scowl. Kaidoh’s teeth grazed Momo’s mouth lightly before his tongue was there, all forceful and wet in Momo’s mouth. Although he still wasn’t used to it, Momo couldn’t say he’d be able to give it up, either. He pushed back at it with his own, his ink-stained hands now twisting in Kaidoh’s school shirt. Kaidoh pulled back and let out a growl or annoyance. “Get off me,” he said, slapping Momo’s hands away. “Don’t mess up my shirt.” Too late; there was already a faint smear of blue on the white fabric above Kaidoh’s ribs, much lighter than the ink on Momo’s shirt. Momo licked his lips and snorted. Kaidoh issued him a Death Glare and turned, stalking away. Momo watched him go, the familiar hunched-over form disappearing at the end of the corridor as Kaidoh pushed through the doors with a bang. In the bathroom, Momo cursed harder. Not only was his shirt now covered in a wide, light blue watermark, but it was also soaking wet. Mamushi would probably laugh at him again if he saw. No matter how much he scrubbed or how much soap he used from the wall dispenser, the stain would not come out. Something about the situation reminded him of Kaidoh. The bell sounded for next period. Momo frowned at his reflection in the mirror above the sink, muttered another “Bastard” to the empty room, and finally gave up. In the end, there was no other choice. He’d just have to live with it. ~Fin~ |
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