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scubatankfilledwithfartsNotes: so most of this i'm happy with because, well, i like it but then i STOPPED and had to continue the next morning and kept getting distracted so it didn't quite have the same feel as earlier in this piece of poo. but i still mostly like it. this is unresponsive!tetsuo verse. also i listened to that fucking wonderwall playlist during a lot of this, amazing
Since of fucking course nothing can ever be simple when it comes to their lives Tetsuo's awakening was more complex than that. The lights were on but no one was home. Oh, he could still eat and shit and walk in a straight line, tilted his head like some goddamn animal when he knows you're talking to him, vague comprehension behind the eyes, could take care of himself [if someone tells him to: Kei yanking his arm up to shove a t-shirt over his head with a half-hearted sigh, Kaneda depositing a piece of half stale bread into his hand, grumbling under his breath to mask his unease but it was always there in the slope of his shoulders and his brow] when prompted but his expression remained vapid. The natural instincts of hunger and desire for warmth never left him, not Tetsuo, not ever, it was as basic as the helix of his DNA but there was nothing. Nothing left but that.
["He's like one of those fuckin'...whaddya call em? Furbies? From the twentieth century. Motion detection and all that. Watchin' you in your sleep. Creepy as hell."
"Don't tell me you want to put Tetsuo out in the rain until his voice box gets so damaged they write books about it and give 'em to their kids."
"....Good point. He doesn't need that kinda ego trip." They've got enough nightmares keeping them up as is.]
Ain't it a bitch, though? Guy goes from little fierce but hesitant shithead with shit self esteem, to even bigger shithead with psychic motherfucking powers generally fucking shit up to the nine thousandth power and an ego bigger than the crater at the Olympic site, to mutant psycho howling for release of his earthly body, for help, for salvation and comfort to dead and now-- more or less a vegetable.
A vegetable who stares at them through greasy locks and dead eyes, waiting for orders [Tetsuo? Orders? Jesus fucking Christ], but his chin's up without fail as if nothing, not death or rebirth or a fucking lobotomy could strip Tetsuo of that stubborn, even gaze at some fucker bigger than him when he's pissed off. Their younger companion obediently sits there on the back of Kei's bike, fingers hitched on her hip and when Kaneda peels his eyes away from the horizon to make sure he's still back there Tetsuo's face is tilted above, grey eyes on that sky.
[As if he's listening for something]
[Kaneda once mentioned alien signals to Kei in jest but it fell short when she merely looked to the sky as well and hummed, said something about the silence in his head's gotta be disturbing, something to get used to. Maybe he's waiting]
[He felt a pang in his heart because waiting? Waiting for what? To get beamed up or some shit? A pang of fear, fear he's not sure he felt for himself and Kei and Kai and the rest of them or if-if it was fear for Tetsuo because anything, even this frustrating robotic bullshit's gotta be better than the power hungry crazy fuck lurching out of his own skin and begging for help]
So they move around a lot as human beings are want to do; migration is about as beautiful as the third knuckle of Chiyoko's right hook: it's messy, someone's nose ends up bloody, the people in charge of the rations are stingy as fuck when it comes to hard working men like him, and someone usually ends up crying. They spend just as much time moving throughout groups and with groups as they do on their own. The benefits outweigh the grievances of working with nosy motherfuckers or those suspicious of new blood. Stingy and justly skeptical alike.
Kaneda, naturally deft at hand provides enough elbow grease to spare, takes to cranking various machinery in need of mending, striking up an easy repertoire among the older men hard at work and even the shitheads his age just as hard at work, ambitious to a T and honing their own skills under the tutelage of the older guys and the burning sun above. The women, well.
["What can I say, babe? They can't get enough of me. I feel their eyes boring into my tight and perky ass. It's almost enough to make me blush, you women."
"OI KANEDA, GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE! ME AND MY ROLLING PIN HAVE A FEW THINGS TO DISCUSS WITH YOU AFTER YOU TOLD LITTLE RIKU HOW TO GET MORE JUICE IN THAT THING! I'M GONNA BREAK YOUR KNEECAPS!"
"Sounds like your tight and perky ass is on the line. Again. Babe."
"I'd love to continue this ego strokage later but I've gotta go doll, byedon'twaitup and don't tell those crazy hags where I am!"]
Kei takes to the raids like the Queen she is; stamps down the doubt against her fellow sisters with a clop of her boots, dolling out stern glares, food she'd scavenged successfully held in her grip to show those pigs just how 'useless' she was. She follows orders enough not to get slack, adapts to the situation like water rolling off a duck's back, gives her own crisp and clear orders that are more and more recognized as Not Stupid Fucking Ideas Like Those Guys'.
In exchange? Medical attention. They can tend to their own wounds with thread and needle and enough alcohol to get Kaneda to stop bitching followed by extreme bitching and cringing away in pain but there's not enough needle and thread and booze to sew up the wound Tetsuo has inside. The surprisingly common practicing doctors set up in shops in abandoned malls and restaurants and insurance companies and in the backs of their trucks in the caravan all say the same thing:
Tetsuo's healthy. Skinny to the point of his ribs sticking out, his skin needs some serious pigment treatments to cure the pale as fuck look he's got going on, (but who doesn't in these days of the end?) and the arm's gone from just above the elbow but the wound's not infected. A miracle. The vacant behavior? Most likely trauma. Could pass with time, could not. Talk to him, keep doing what you're doing and take it one day at a time.
[It's beyond frustrating to hear that all the time. There's no drug miracle cure, all the shrinks have likely given up within the first few days of the chaos, mystical mumbo jumbo bullshit got them this far and for what? It makes Kaneda so angry sometimes he can't even look at Tetsuo after he's heard this. He goes out to the heaps of junk and scrap littering the camps and digs and digs and works until he's breathing hard and sweat soaks his t-shirt. That's usually where they find him, if they dare, back bent and eyes heavy.]
And Tetsuo? Tetsuo takes to a pastime that makes Kaneda's blood pressure a real problem: wandering. Always dressed in scrappy hoodies with the hood pulled low over his brow or draped in cloaks and scarves obscuring his face till naught but the tip of his nose and those long lashes flash under the sun, Tetsuo explores the lay of the land. He keeps to himself, eyes on the sky or the hustling and bustling within each little community, bursting with life. Occasionally someone will stop him, coax and prod him into a reaction, any goddamn reaction, but eventually they either grow bored or feel dark eyes burning holes into their backs from a distance. Every time they look up to meet this gaze Kaneda will miraculously be there, a tune on his lips, a grin that promises pain and a wrench dangling between his fingers.
[Kaneda skips out on work on many, many occasions just to make sure nothing happens, which earns him a stalker moniker from his loving girlfriend]
[As well as the nicknames lazyass, dickcheese, cocksucker and senpai waiting for his kohai to notice him from the guys. He's touched, really. Friends like these.]
[Every night when they generally collapse in heaps in their tent Kei talks Kaneda out of tying Tetsuo's goddamn ankle to his own just to make sure he doesn't wander off. She wonders if he even realizes the little sigh of relief he exhibits when he wakes up in the dead of night, squints into the darkness and spots Tetsuo curled into a ball, still there.]
It's on one of the days where it's raining and Kaneda has wrung all the work he can out of the machinery and the other workers [matter of fact they've kicked him out of the makeshift scrapyard and won't let him back him] that he finds himself watching Tetsuo from the awning of their tent. The combination of the sheets of rain and the wind picking up should make it hard to stare up but Tetsuo's taking it in stride, stubborn even in his state. His hood's down for the first time all day, dark hair plastered and slick against his forehead. Kaneda's certain Tetsuo's got water from the collar of his shirt to his ass but his [friend? bestie? enemy? companion? l-] idiot hasn't a care in the world.
Tetsuo just stretches out his hand, lets the water sluice between his fingers and down his wrist, watches puddles splash beneath his feet, mud clings to his heels and- and a spark catches in Kaneda's gut when a soft pink tongue darts out to catch rain water on his lips. Tetsuo, the bastard, opens his mouth to catch rain water.
[They're ten and eleven, they've managed to smuggle some popsicles out of the cafeteria and they're comparing the colors the wonderful tasty treat have dyed their tongues; Tetsuo sticks his out between giggles and gaps in his teeth, it's bright red and wriggling. Kaneda's disappointed that the green barely shows up on his tongue so he bites off the end of his rapidly melting treat with gusto and a furrow of his brow only to have the remainder on the stick land in his lap with a plop.
Tetsuo laughs so hard he chokes and Kaneda's so mad at him he doesn't talk to him for all of twenty minutes.
It was a time when Tetsuo had mercy, before the chip on his shoulder had embedded so deep a scalpel couldn't carve it out: he ended up sharing the rest of his popsicle, and together the two boys marveled at the mix of bizarre colors on Kaneda's tongue]
["Don't be a pussy, dude. Just tip your head back and swallow, ain't that hard. You're overthinkin' it with that big head of yours," Kaneda sneers, and masks the split second panic swallowing his own pill brings by plastering a smirk on his face. Spreads out his arms like see? See how badass that was?
Tetsuo grimaces, then puts on a brave face. "Bottom's up." When his throat bobs to bring the pill into oblivion and the burn of his veins Kaneda pretends he doesn't know this is the end to everything.]
Thankfully there's no one else in sight, not even any stragglers mosey back to their makeshift shelters to wait out the storm.
"Oi, Tetsu-chan. C'mon inside." No one to witness Kaneda Shotaro [The] coaxing more or less a pose-able doll in from the rain. Motherhenning. Mother of fuck. But that's exactly what he does; saunters right over to Tetsuo, hand clasped on his good shoulder. There's progress: he only has to shake his friend by the shoulder once to get him to look him in the eye. It's a combination of pitiful and a little exhilarating. Drops of water slide from the roots of Tetsuo's hair down to his chin but he never once wipes it away. He has Kaneda to do that for him with a grease stained thumb. [Clucking his tongue like someone's fucking mother!!]
"Let's go in. You're gonna get sick out here and we're fresh outta miso soup ya damn big baby." Hand anchored in the small of Tetsuo's back he steers him towards their tent, ignores the look Tetsuo shoots over his shoulder at the storm, and ushers him inside.
[The real Tetsuo would have pitched a fit at being called a baby, rejected a fucking rescue, reeled back his fist and brought it crack! against Kaneda's jaw]
As easy as it is to get him to sit still there on the floor and dripping wet on a throw pillow stuffed with shirts, hoodie thrown somewhere behind his back along with the shirt, leaving nothing but wet skin and a shivering sixteen year old, it's still. Disturbing as fuck.
[Because the real Tetsuo would have shoved Kaneda off, refused to be babied, shouted and snarled and hung on to every chip of dignity he had left]
Kaneda rubs a towel through Tetsuo's hair, keeps his gaze fixed somewhere on the wall of the tent beyond Tetsuo as he runs his mouth. Same old shit.
"Can't believe I'm doin' this...when you get better I'm gonna tell you all kinds'a stories about putting pants on you. Kei's seen your dick, y'know? I bet you'll turn all red and try to act big and tough- lemme tell you, she wasn't impressed by that thing." A sheepish curve accentuates his mouth as he adds, "she said she wasn't impressed by mine either but we both know she's fuckin' lying. She was probably so shocked by how thick it is the insult was automatic. It's a good thing you won't remember this so I can give ya the HD tale."
At least that's what he tells himself. And assumes. Thank fuck Tetsuo doesn't have that creepy no blink horror movie kid thing going on because he blinks at Kaneda then, tilting his head to the side to indicate he's heard. No recognition flickers across his face, just a doll's eyes through damp bangs.
Kaneda ruffles his hair and muses it up in retaliation to the point where it sticks up in all directions. That's enough to make him smile, fingertips picking up the ends of the choppy strands.
[He can't decide if its better they left it long or short for anonymity ; it's way past his ears by now, makes the pads of Kaneda's fingers itch where it rolls slick between them. The rest lays curled against Tetsuo's warm neck]
[He's always had the structure of a little bird trying too hard to puff up and shit on as many cars as possible, limping on a broken wing]
Kaneda's fingers have a life all their own, trace a warm path from Tetsuo's jaw to his pulse. [It thrums at his touch] It'd be really easy to wrap them the rest of the way around this bird-like neck, he muses to himself.
[Flash of Yamagata bursting into crimson right before his eyes, the mad smirk the carnage brought upon Tetsuo's face]
[It'd be easy to let him rest in peace, wouldn't it? Something acidic burns hot beneath Kaneda's ribs]
The motion of Tetsuo's throat as he swallows [no pill, just pure 'ol spit] around the gaps between Kaneda's fingers snaps him out of it. Kaneda pulls back as if burned [isn't he, though? All this goddamn time, doing this again and again and again and again? Tugged between the friends he's lost, that have been torn from him, the world that was theirs torn from him, and the friend right here in front of him, given some sort of second fucking chance]
"Just makin' sure you've still got a pulse. Wouldn't want you to lose circulation, Tetsu-chan. You need all the help you can get." Is the excuse he uses, squeezes Tetsuo's cheeks between thumb and index finger till his lips purse, rewards himself with a laugh.
That is until Tetsuo bites down.
"Motherfuck--!" Kaneda's too shocked to bite back, both stunned and amazed [and a little relieved] by the reaction than pained. Five or so neat little half moons decorate his index finger, the thinnest sheen of blood wells up. "Good to know you're still a little shit you shit. Not like it hurt anyway. Better luck neck time, shark-chan." Maybe they need to scrounge him up more meat?
[Maybe you're just an asshole, Kaneda] Thanks to the exchange his chest feels lighter, the laugh that bursts from his lips more genuine as he cards a hand through Tetsuo's locks again, presses the heel of his palm against his forehead. [There'll still be anger, deep wells of it beneath the sinew and the marrow, but for now-]
"Good job, Tetsuo. I knew you were too much of a stubborn bastard to be like this forever."
[No, he didn't. But he hoped. And Kei doesn't know he knows but she prayed, slope in her shoulders, fingers locked, hesitantly, then growing in strength]
Later when Kaneda shares the wonderful (????) news, the first thing Kei does is tug his ear sharply and hard enough to tip him over, then cocks her hands on her hips.
"Just what the fuck were you doing that warranted that bite!?" Her words do nothing to mask the grin she cracks though.
[Maybe they'll be okay]
Since of fucking course nothing can ever be simple when it comes to their lives Tetsuo's awakening was more complex than that. The lights were on but no one was home. Oh, he could still eat and shit and walk in a straight line, tilted his head like some goddamn animal when he knows you're talking to him, vague comprehension behind the eyes, could take care of himself [if someone tells him to: Kei yanking his arm up to shove a t-shirt over his head with a half-hearted sigh, Kaneda depositing a piece of half stale bread into his hand, grumbling under his breath to mask his unease but it was always there in the slope of his shoulders and his brow] when prompted but his expression remained vapid. The natural instincts of hunger and desire for warmth never left him, not Tetsuo, not ever, it was as basic as the helix of his DNA but there was nothing. Nothing left but that.
["He's like one of those fuckin'...whaddya call em? Furbies? From the twentieth century. Motion detection and all that. Watchin' you in your sleep. Creepy as hell."
"Don't tell me you want to put Tetsuo out in the rain until his voice box gets so damaged they write books about it and give 'em to their kids."
"....Good point. He doesn't need that kinda ego trip." They've got enough nightmares keeping them up as is.]
Ain't it a bitch, though? Guy goes from little fierce but hesitant shithead with shit self esteem, to even bigger shithead with psychic motherfucking powers generally fucking shit up to the nine thousandth power and an ego bigger than the crater at the Olympic site, to mutant psycho howling for release of his earthly body, for help, for salvation and comfort to dead and now-- more or less a vegetable.
A vegetable who stares at them through greasy locks and dead eyes, waiting for orders [Tetsuo? Orders? Jesus fucking Christ], but his chin's up without fail as if nothing, not death or rebirth or a fucking lobotomy could strip Tetsuo of that stubborn, even gaze at some fucker bigger than him when he's pissed off. Their younger companion obediently sits there on the back of Kei's bike, fingers hitched on her hip and when Kaneda peels his eyes away from the horizon to make sure he's still back there Tetsuo's face is tilted above, grey eyes on that sky.
[As if he's listening for something]
[Kaneda once mentioned alien signals to Kei in jest but it fell short when she merely looked to the sky as well and hummed, said something about the silence in his head's gotta be disturbing, something to get used to. Maybe he's waiting]
[He felt a pang in his heart because waiting? Waiting for what? To get beamed up or some shit? A pang of fear, fear he's not sure he felt for himself and Kei and Kai and the rest of them or if-if it was fear for Tetsuo because anything, even this frustrating robotic bullshit's gotta be better than the power hungry crazy fuck lurching out of his own skin and begging for help]
So they move around a lot as human beings are want to do; migration is about as beautiful as the third knuckle of Chiyoko's right hook: it's messy, someone's nose ends up bloody, the people in charge of the rations are stingy as fuck when it comes to hard working men like him, and someone usually ends up crying. They spend just as much time moving throughout groups and with groups as they do on their own. The benefits outweigh the grievances of working with nosy motherfuckers or those suspicious of new blood. Stingy and justly skeptical alike.
Kaneda, naturally deft at hand provides enough elbow grease to spare, takes to cranking various machinery in need of mending, striking up an easy repertoire among the older men hard at work and even the shitheads his age just as hard at work, ambitious to a T and honing their own skills under the tutelage of the older guys and the burning sun above. The women, well.
["What can I say, babe? They can't get enough of me. I feel their eyes boring into my tight and perky ass. It's almost enough to make me blush, you women."
"OI KANEDA, GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE! ME AND MY ROLLING PIN HAVE A FEW THINGS TO DISCUSS WITH YOU AFTER YOU TOLD LITTLE RIKU HOW TO GET MORE JUICE IN THAT THING! I'M GONNA BREAK YOUR KNEECAPS!"
"Sounds like your tight and perky ass is on the line. Again. Babe."
"I'd love to continue this ego strokage later but I've gotta go doll, byedon'twaitup and don't tell those crazy hags where I am!"]
Kei takes to the raids like the Queen she is; stamps down the doubt against her fellow sisters with a clop of her boots, dolling out stern glares, food she'd scavenged successfully held in her grip to show those pigs just how 'useless' she was. She follows orders enough not to get slack, adapts to the situation like water rolling off a duck's back, gives her own crisp and clear orders that are more and more recognized as Not Stupid Fucking Ideas Like Those Guys'.
In exchange? Medical attention. They can tend to their own wounds with thread and needle and enough alcohol to get Kaneda to stop bitching followed by extreme bitching and cringing away in pain but there's not enough needle and thread and booze to sew up the wound Tetsuo has inside. The surprisingly common practicing doctors set up in shops in abandoned malls and restaurants and insurance companies and in the backs of their trucks in the caravan all say the same thing:
Tetsuo's healthy. Skinny to the point of his ribs sticking out, his skin needs some serious pigment treatments to cure the pale as fuck look he's got going on, (but who doesn't in these days of the end?) and the arm's gone from just above the elbow but the wound's not infected. A miracle. The vacant behavior? Most likely trauma. Could pass with time, could not. Talk to him, keep doing what you're doing and take it one day at a time.
[It's beyond frustrating to hear that all the time. There's no drug miracle cure, all the shrinks have likely given up within the first few days of the chaos, mystical mumbo jumbo bullshit got them this far and for what? It makes Kaneda so angry sometimes he can't even look at Tetsuo after he's heard this. He goes out to the heaps of junk and scrap littering the camps and digs and digs and works until he's breathing hard and sweat soaks his t-shirt. That's usually where they find him, if they dare, back bent and eyes heavy.]
And Tetsuo? Tetsuo takes to a pastime that makes Kaneda's blood pressure a real problem: wandering. Always dressed in scrappy hoodies with the hood pulled low over his brow or draped in cloaks and scarves obscuring his face till naught but the tip of his nose and those long lashes flash under the sun, Tetsuo explores the lay of the land. He keeps to himself, eyes on the sky or the hustling and bustling within each little community, bursting with life. Occasionally someone will stop him, coax and prod him into a reaction, any goddamn reaction, but eventually they either grow bored or feel dark eyes burning holes into their backs from a distance. Every time they look up to meet this gaze Kaneda will miraculously be there, a tune on his lips, a grin that promises pain and a wrench dangling between his fingers.
[Kaneda skips out on work on many, many occasions just to make sure nothing happens, which earns him a stalker moniker from his loving girlfriend]
[As well as the nicknames lazyass, dickcheese, cocksucker and senpai waiting for his kohai to notice him from the guys. He's touched, really. Friends like these.]
[Every night when they generally collapse in heaps in their tent Kei talks Kaneda out of tying Tetsuo's goddamn ankle to his own just to make sure he doesn't wander off. She wonders if he even realizes the little sigh of relief he exhibits when he wakes up in the dead of night, squints into the darkness and spots Tetsuo curled into a ball, still there.]
It's on one of the days where it's raining and Kaneda has wrung all the work he can out of the machinery and the other workers [matter of fact they've kicked him out of the makeshift scrapyard and won't let him back him] that he finds himself watching Tetsuo from the awning of their tent. The combination of the sheets of rain and the wind picking up should make it hard to stare up but Tetsuo's taking it in stride, stubborn even in his state. His hood's down for the first time all day, dark hair plastered and slick against his forehead. Kaneda's certain Tetsuo's got water from the collar of his shirt to his ass but his [friend? bestie? enemy? companion? l-] idiot hasn't a care in the world.
Tetsuo just stretches out his hand, lets the water sluice between his fingers and down his wrist, watches puddles splash beneath his feet, mud clings to his heels and- and a spark catches in Kaneda's gut when a soft pink tongue darts out to catch rain water on his lips. Tetsuo, the bastard, opens his mouth to catch rain water.
[They're ten and eleven, they've managed to smuggle some popsicles out of the cafeteria and they're comparing the colors the wonderful tasty treat have dyed their tongues; Tetsuo sticks his out between giggles and gaps in his teeth, it's bright red and wriggling. Kaneda's disappointed that the green barely shows up on his tongue so he bites off the end of his rapidly melting treat with gusto and a furrow of his brow only to have the remainder on the stick land in his lap with a plop.
Tetsuo laughs so hard he chokes and Kaneda's so mad at him he doesn't talk to him for all of twenty minutes.
It was a time when Tetsuo had mercy, before the chip on his shoulder had embedded so deep a scalpel couldn't carve it out: he ended up sharing the rest of his popsicle, and together the two boys marveled at the mix of bizarre colors on Kaneda's tongue]
["Don't be a pussy, dude. Just tip your head back and swallow, ain't that hard. You're overthinkin' it with that big head of yours," Kaneda sneers, and masks the split second panic swallowing his own pill brings by plastering a smirk on his face. Spreads out his arms like see? See how badass that was?
Tetsuo grimaces, then puts on a brave face. "Bottom's up." When his throat bobs to bring the pill into oblivion and the burn of his veins Kaneda pretends he doesn't know this is the end to everything.]
Thankfully there's no one else in sight, not even any stragglers mosey back to their makeshift shelters to wait out the storm.
"Oi, Tetsu-chan. C'mon inside." No one to witness Kaneda Shotaro [The] coaxing more or less a pose-able doll in from the rain. Motherhenning. Mother of fuck. But that's exactly what he does; saunters right over to Tetsuo, hand clasped on his good shoulder. There's progress: he only has to shake his friend by the shoulder once to get him to look him in the eye. It's a combination of pitiful and a little exhilarating. Drops of water slide from the roots of Tetsuo's hair down to his chin but he never once wipes it away. He has Kaneda to do that for him with a grease stained thumb. [Clucking his tongue like someone's fucking mother!!]
"Let's go in. You're gonna get sick out here and we're fresh outta miso soup ya damn big baby." Hand anchored in the small of Tetsuo's back he steers him towards their tent, ignores the look Tetsuo shoots over his shoulder at the storm, and ushers him inside.
[The real Tetsuo would have pitched a fit at being called a baby, rejected a fucking rescue, reeled back his fist and brought it crack! against Kaneda's jaw]
As easy as it is to get him to sit still there on the floor and dripping wet on a throw pillow stuffed with shirts, hoodie thrown somewhere behind his back along with the shirt, leaving nothing but wet skin and a shivering sixteen year old, it's still. Disturbing as fuck.
[Because the real Tetsuo would have shoved Kaneda off, refused to be babied, shouted and snarled and hung on to every chip of dignity he had left]
Kaneda rubs a towel through Tetsuo's hair, keeps his gaze fixed somewhere on the wall of the tent beyond Tetsuo as he runs his mouth. Same old shit.
"Can't believe I'm doin' this...when you get better I'm gonna tell you all kinds'a stories about putting pants on you. Kei's seen your dick, y'know? I bet you'll turn all red and try to act big and tough- lemme tell you, she wasn't impressed by that thing." A sheepish curve accentuates his mouth as he adds, "she said she wasn't impressed by mine either but we both know she's fuckin' lying. She was probably so shocked by how thick it is the insult was automatic. It's a good thing you won't remember this so I can give ya the HD tale."
At least that's what he tells himself. And assumes. Thank fuck Tetsuo doesn't have that creepy no blink horror movie kid thing going on because he blinks at Kaneda then, tilting his head to the side to indicate he's heard. No recognition flickers across his face, just a doll's eyes through damp bangs.
Kaneda ruffles his hair and muses it up in retaliation to the point where it sticks up in all directions. That's enough to make him smile, fingertips picking up the ends of the choppy strands.
[He can't decide if its better they left it long or short for anonymity ; it's way past his ears by now, makes the pads of Kaneda's fingers itch where it rolls slick between them. The rest lays curled against Tetsuo's warm neck]
[He's always had the structure of a little bird trying too hard to puff up and shit on as many cars as possible, limping on a broken wing]
Kaneda's fingers have a life all their own, trace a warm path from Tetsuo's jaw to his pulse. [It thrums at his touch] It'd be really easy to wrap them the rest of the way around this bird-like neck, he muses to himself.
[Flash of Yamagata bursting into crimson right before his eyes, the mad smirk the carnage brought upon Tetsuo's face]
[It'd be easy to let him rest in peace, wouldn't it? Something acidic burns hot beneath Kaneda's ribs]
The motion of Tetsuo's throat as he swallows [no pill, just pure 'ol spit] around the gaps between Kaneda's fingers snaps him out of it. Kaneda pulls back as if burned [isn't he, though? All this goddamn time, doing this again and again and again and again? Tugged between the friends he's lost, that have been torn from him, the world that was theirs torn from him, and the friend right here in front of him, given some sort of second fucking chance]
"Just makin' sure you've still got a pulse. Wouldn't want you to lose circulation, Tetsu-chan. You need all the help you can get." Is the excuse he uses, squeezes Tetsuo's cheeks between thumb and index finger till his lips purse, rewards himself with a laugh.
That is until Tetsuo bites down.
"Motherfuck--!" Kaneda's too shocked to bite back, both stunned and amazed [and a little relieved] by the reaction than pained. Five or so neat little half moons decorate his index finger, the thinnest sheen of blood wells up. "Good to know you're still a little shit you shit. Not like it hurt anyway. Better luck neck time, shark-chan." Maybe they need to scrounge him up more meat?
[Maybe you're just an asshole, Kaneda] Thanks to the exchange his chest feels lighter, the laugh that bursts from his lips more genuine as he cards a hand through Tetsuo's locks again, presses the heel of his palm against his forehead. [There'll still be anger, deep wells of it beneath the sinew and the marrow, but for now-]
"Good job, Tetsuo. I knew you were too much of a stubborn bastard to be like this forever."
[No, he didn't. But he hoped. And Kei doesn't know he knows but she prayed, slope in her shoulders, fingers locked, hesitantly, then growing in strength]
Later when Kaneda shares the wonderful (????) news, the first thing Kei does is tug his ear sharply and hard enough to tip him over, then cocks her hands on her hips.
"Just what the fuck were you doing that warranted that bite!?" Her words do nothing to mask the grin she cracks though.
[Maybe they'll be okay]
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