Unsung Hero
Of the heroes, you are unsung, forgotten and left to the dust, but even dust has its purpose.
Little cloud, you float so slowly. Little cloud, you are not noted. Little cloud, you float along, all day long. Little cloud, what would we be without you? Skull would murmur this every night. Like a prayer. Perhaps it's unanswered. He sits on the edge of his bed, the covers shift and distort. It's fleece, Skull runs it between his fingers. It should be changed soon as the hotter of months are coming. Vaguely in his sleep addled mind he remember that Fon changes them year round. So why hasn't the Storm Arcobaleno changed it?
Skull stares at his feet for a moment. Maybe he should go get different covers. It would be in his best interest since he could feel the familiar damp wetness building up. Gross. It takes him a moment to find the will to get up. He carts his lazy behind out of his room and into the hallway. A searing light burns his eyes, curse the bulb.
The former stuntman trudges down the hallway to the linen closet. He can faintly hear the television in the background.
"JUST FOR YOU! I GIVE YOU SPECIAL DEAL!"
Skull paused. "What in the ever loving fuck is that?"
Hurrying himself with his objective he brushed a hand through his sweaty hair and delved into the linen closet for lighter sheets. Skull's hands met with a soft and flimsy material. Success! He wanted to get to his room as quickly as possible before he ran into Colonello, or worse, Reborn. Both had been unusual since he had returned to the mansion. Lal and Fon he could understand, since they were a little more sensible, but the two grown men were using the excuse of his accident to follow him around. Stalking might be more fitting. He could almost feel a pair of eyes on him. Watching his movements.
Just as Skull was about to turn around and book it like hell to his room, someone came around the corner, a little to quickly to be coincidence. He flinched, better than the shriek welling in his throat. Lal raised a brow.
"You alright? .. "
"Uh .. Y-Yea, just peachy." Skull muttered and rubbed the back of his neck.
Lal flitted her gaze around the seemingly empty hallway a little too quickly but Skull shrugged it off.
The bandages has been removed with the process of healing and all that remained was an extremely unattractive bruise marring a majority of his face. The left side of his face was turning a dark hue of purple and blue, brown was leaking in and fine stitches lined from his forehead to his brow. The stitches were fading and hard to detect but Skull could just barely open his eye. This put off his point of view and he seemed a little touchy. Of course who could blame him? He took a blow to the temple, on the verge of death.
"Looks pretty nasty." She commented.
"I've had worse." At this Lal Mirch snorted. Both her and Skull knew that was a joke. For the former stuntman had done many crazy things. He had probably broken every bone in his body, at least once. However, compared to the fight with Bermuda, this was the worse, and it wasn't even a stunt. It's cliche to say he had seen his life flash before his eyes. Skull didn't see his life, he saw his mother.
"Better turn in, who knows what's lurking around." Skull nods in reply to Lal's comment and moves aside as she walks to her respective room. Again he is oblivious to her hinting.
The most vivid of the accident is in the coma. His mother, he reaches out for her but she merely shakes her head. Not your time. Skull thinks dimly if he'll ever have a time. Being immortal isn't as great as it's lead to believe. He closes the door to the closet and tucks the sheets under his arm. He doesn't make it to his room, he doesn't even make it three steps forward.
"Shouldn't you be in bed, kora."
Skull freezed. Crap.
He turns on the balls of his bare feet and comes face to face with the resident cool kid. The mansion of elite mafioso can almost be ironically compared to a clique in the modern schools. Skull would rather not think of what that might make him, since he experienced it long ago in his school years, and to this day.
Skull makes a point to cover up his presence "I was getting some ... ," He trails off.
Colonello raises a brow. Skull mentally face palms, why should he even be giving an excuse for his late hour sheet exchange, he's an adult and he most certainly does not need a fellow companion bossing him around. That's Reborn's job. Wait. What.
"Get your scrawny behind to bed! Aren't you still injured? You're going to tear open a stitch, kora."
"Y-Yes senpai," Skull furrows his brow. He should really work on what he refers to his senpa-comrades. COMRADES. The former stunt man turns quickly, sheets in hand and books it down the hallway to his room.
Colonello remains. He watches Skull speed walk to his room and a frown tugs at his handsome features when he notes the limp, the bruise melding at the nape of the lackey's neck. Bemusedly he can see brown seeping into the cloud arcobaleno's hair, all the time in the hospital he hadn't been able to dye his hair. It looks befitting of him. Skull is a natural brunette.
"Not even the Immortal Skull can evade the curse of natural hair colour, haha."
Who he calls it out to is a mystery for not another soul lingers in the hallway. The butt of the joke has claimed haven in his respective room. Colonello stares on to the stretching walls.
Skull closes the door and proceeds to rips his sheets off and replace them with the lighter ones. The sooner he gets to sleep the sooner the dull ache from his bruise will go away.
The cloud arcobaleno tucks in the fabric properly and pulls the last bit up. Clean and pressed. Skull stares at it dimly. He feels weary and should probably climb into bed, however something whispers in the back of his mind that there is no point because something, as usual, will keep him from sleep. Skull gets the uncanny feeling that it won't be from his healing wound.
His thoughts speak true when there's a light knock on his door. Odd. Who knocks on his door these days? Normally they just barge in. With a few exceptions. The only people currently retaining such formalities would be Fon or Lal, he hasn't a clue why they would seek him out at this hour so it could only be-
"Morning Lackey."
"Needless for me to note, it isn't quite passed midnight yet."
"Such technicalities are unneeded."
"Seconded, kora."
Skull barely glances behind him. "What do you two want now?"
Reborn walks his smooth stride into Skull's room with Colonello tagging along behind him. The stunt man feels unusually exposed in his a thin shirt and his boxers. Reborn is not much for better wear, he's in his yellow dress shirt but his blazer has been discarded. A half hearted strung tie rounds the hitman's neck and Skull can only fathom where the trademark fedora has disappeared to. Colonello on the other hand is in his usual military attire. It's a miracle he's not burning up in it.
"You didn't answer my question," He grits through his teeth.
Reborn blinks and smooths his spiky hair. "Lackey's don't demand."
"Or ask questions," Colonello adds and Reborn nods his agreement.
'I AM NOT A LACKEY' Skull shrieks in his head. He should have known better. Sure he had almost died. Well, basically he did die. All the attention lavished to him in bounds has washed away and the two men have gone back to their cruel ways. Skull rolls his eyes, I'm a bit of an unsung hero. Lackey's aren't sung as hero's, his self esteem corrects.
Still. If the two were done with their oddly affectionate, and almost pleasant ways, why are they here in his room at an ungodly hour of eleven? He needs his pretty boy sleep. Otherwise he wouldn't look like a total hottie.
Colonello touches Skull's shoulder and it takes all of his will power not to flinch. The military officer gently rubs the bruise running along the stunt mans nape. It's endearing the way he moves the pad of his fingers in small circles. Skull eases his frame and tries not to show too much of a reaction for it. Regardless he's enjoying it and a certain hitman takes notice, with a touch of envy.
Colonello silently uses another hand and runs it down his neck until both hands are at Skull's shoulders, stretching and pulling the muscles from their harsh knots of stress. The stretch of silence runs long and it is broken by the jealous sun.
"What are you doing." It's more of a statement than a question.
"Just giving back to the lackey." A tone of mocking is laced in Colonello's voice.
Reborn practically snarls. "The only thing a lackey receives is punishment."
"I think," the blond's voice takes an icy edge, "He's received enough."
Skull winces when Colonello digs his palms in a little too hard. Reborn stands from the bed. Skull can already tell this wouldn't be ending too well.
"Oh and I bet he enjoyed that little gift, hmm?
Gift? Skull thought back a little. The flowers!
He pulls from Colonello, "You gave me those?" The cloud arcobaleno blushes in the slightest.
The blue eye blond had the nerve to blush himself. Colonello rubs the back of his neck and laughs, if not a bit nervously. "Well, thought you could use a little get well present."
Skull is about to open his mouth and reply with god knows what but Reborn pokes in first.
"If it helps Colonelly, which it won't believe me, but I tied Skull down on his own bike long ago and had my way."
Colonello blinks. He blinks again. Skull is the first to speak of course.
"REBORN! YOU PROMISED YOU WOULD NEVER EVER, EVER MENTION THAT EVER AGAIN!"
The hitman shrugs. "Oops."
Skull is seething with anger and is about to kick both Reborn and Colonello out when the latter finally pipes up.
"That must have been some gift." He grins.
"Why don't we ask Skull who's gift he likes more." Reborn slyly winks, all jealousy gone.
Colonello's grin broadens and he turns to the harassed man. "Well Skull?"
"Get. Out. Of. My. Room." He manages to choke out.
Colonello bites back a snicker. "Maybe we should leave him alone Reborn."
"Where's the fun in that?" The hitman relents and makes his way to the door, but not before he pulls Skull in for a chaste kiss. Skull staggers back a bit. The night has been a bit of a rush for him. All he wanted was some lighter sheets so he wouldn't swelter. Colonello laughs and plants one on Skull as well. Only, it's on his left eye, which he can hardly open, so gentle it can hardly be felt.
"You take it easy now." Colonello winks. Reborn waits for him at the door, almost an obscuring shadow in the hallway's blinding light. Skull is still blushing when they leave, and his blush darkens when he see's Reborn snap Colonello's waist band on his boxers, which now poke out of the army pattern pants.
The cloud guardian closes his door quietly and makes his way under the covers. His lips and eye still tingle. A pleasent tingling. His heart thrums against his chest and somehow he feels better about himself. It's strange. The night has left him confused and dazed. Skull remembers his little song.
Little cloud, you float so slowly. Little cloud, you are not noted. Little cloud, you float along, all day long. Little cloud, what would we be without you?
The dust has its purpose and its purpose is to be appreciated. How can one appreciate dust? Well you just have to ask a certain hitman and military officer. Skull's dreams are not filled with clouds of 9 but of two handsome fellows singing his stories. No longer an unsung hero, but a sung one, Skull wonders what will become of the mafia trio.