His Scent - (Lasercorn/Sohinki fanfic) (Laserhinki/Sohinkorn) (With some Ianthony because OTP)
Rating: T because I'm paranoid (intoxication, uses of the word "hell".)
DISCLAIMER: People need to write more sohinki x lasercorn fanfiction.
Pairings:
Sohinki/Lasercorn (Laserhinki/Sohinkorn)
Brief Onesided Joven/Mari and Joven/Sohinki
Brief Ianthony.-
Matthew (Matt) was a turtle. Or a kitten. Or a puppy. Or, more likely, some sort of weird hybrid fusion of all three of these things.
Obviously, not literally. Oh God, David could see an image popping into his head of some sort of weird three headed mutant demon abomination of mankind. Ew.
What he'd meant to say is that he had the qualities of all these things. Yeah, that made more sense, didn't it?
A turtle, kitten, puppy, and perhaps a red panda thrown in there just because.
It had taken him such a long time to come out of his shell. How many times, when they'd first met, that he'd hidden his short and skinny frame behind his hoodie, which, although a normal sized hoodie, seemed to almost swallow him. David had always thought it to be quite, adorable, however. Seeing him engulfed in a soft hoodie, his delicate hands sometimes barely peeking out from beneath the sleeves.
A hoodie. His shell. Turtle. And so today, here he sat, years later, in 2014, having made such good friends with everyone around him.
They were all seated (or sprawled) across various rooms and places in the Smosh Games HQ, all meaning the entire crew (himself, Matt, Joshua, Mari, Anthony, and Ian). After filming a late and particularly long Game Bang where the punishment involved putting on high heels and dancing to Beyonce (he really didn't want to recall it that well, as it was a sight he was trying so desperately hard to forget), the crew, half-delirious, it seemed. from being up so late, suggested they all just hang out and have a few beers and play a couple games.
Joven (of course) had produced a couple packs of beer from his car (he claimed that he was going to help his friend set up a party yesterday, but he had bailed on him), and they had all, finally, been able to just chill. It was nice, he recalled. It was responsible and chill at first. After everyone but Sohinki had had a few beers to loosen up (after claiming he just "wasn't thirsty right now"), they all settled down in groups. Ian, Anthony and himself settled down in the chairs by the huge TV. The crew had long since gone so they weren't worried about being filmed.
They put in some Halo and just started playing. It was nice, not having cameras trained on them as the played their games, not feeling the constant pressure to perform entertain, or make up witty or clever remarks. They just sat and played naturally, interjecting every now and then with a witty comment ("Say hello Ian… TO MY KNIFE!") or a snark or bitter joke or response ("WHO'S LOSING NOW, DAVID! BOYAH!) Joshua, Matt, and Mari sat on the floor in front of them yet off to the side, talking and laughing and texting and, occasionally, interjecting and giving their 2 cents on the gameplay (Ian that's like the tenth time you've killed yourself!) or (Nice one, David!)
It was so tranquil and so relaxing and so peaceful then. And then Anthony suggested a new challenge. "Hey guys," He spoke, in a way that suggested that he was not completely hammered, yet obviously a ways away from sober, "We should make it so that every time you lose, you have to take a shot." He glanced at his competitors. "Whaccha Think?" Ian, although a great deal more sober than Anthony, yet still a little tipsy, agreed with his close friend "Great idea, dude." David, a great deal more sober than the both of them, had been skeptical at first, yet had eventually, although doubtfully agreed. They managed even to convince everyone else, which was far easier a task than it seemed, as Joven had just taken a step past tipsy, Mari had responded enthusiastically with a slurred "Hell Yeah!", and Matt, maybe not wanting to be left out, had joined without argument.
Almost fifty matches later and somehow this had turned from a relaxing day to the weirdest, trippiest, most drunken day in Smosh Games history. It was also an excellent opportunity, if any of them had been sober enough, for the crew to observe each others drunk personalities. Joshua was - obviously, the creepy drunk friend that hit on everyone and everything. Joven, having resigned from the game a long time ago, had first attempted to suavely say one-liners to Mari incessantly (Hey are you from Tennessee,Did it hurt when you fell from heaven…etc), until Mari had drunkenly said that she'd throw him out of the window if he didn't stop, in which Joven looked disappointed, and proceeded to walk up to a large potted plant and try to casually ask if it came here often, and how the color green locked great on it.
Ian and Anthony were, for the most part, completely absorbed in a weird drunken game of what looked like patty cake, or one of those hand games that little children play in elementary school. "Like this?" Anthony slurred as he slapped his palms against Ian's in a 3-beat rhythm. Ian sighed. "No, dude, you have to do it to the music - listen to the muuusiicc" "What music?" Anthony replied confused. Ian rolled his eyes and snorted, like it was the most obvious thing in the world "The music in your heart - DUH." "Oh, okay, yeah, I gott thissss", Anthony finally droned after pausing temporarily to attempt to press his ear to the left side of his chest, and then, failing to do so, pressed his head against the left side of Ian's chest. Ian dropped his bearded chin and rested it on top of the soft brown downy feathers that was Anthony's hair. They just kind of sat there, in silence that was not comfortable nor awkward, but rather, familiar.
Mari was just sat in a seat, staring up at the sky, before, every couple of minutes, attempting to get up, and then proceeding to either sway violently or fall toward the ground, arms out in front of her to catch herself. After this, she then proceeded to sit down and try this again a couple of minutes later. And thus she had been doing for a couple hours. Lasercorn was observing everything, or at least trying to. The alcohol gave his brain a pleasant glow and warmth. It was like everything he was watching, he was watching through someone else's eyes but his own.
Like he was in a movie or something, he drunkenly mused as he used his hands to steady himself against the wall, to keep from falling due to the waves of intermittent nausea that threatened to bring him down. Steadying himself, he walked a drunken Joshua walk up to an even drunker Sohinki. This was weird. David had never seen Sohinki get drunk. Nobody had every seen Sohinki get drunk. That was because Sohinki didn't drink, or, on the rare occasions which he did, he had never even taken seconds, even on shots. But now, a mere 10 feet from where he stood was a very obviously drunk Matt, a sight to behold.
Joven walked up to Sohinki, swaying dangerously with a hug grin plastered across his face. With almost Superhuman like swagger that didn't suit him at all, he there his arm around Matt's shoulder and leaned down to look him in the eyes, "What would it take for me to bring your adorable self home tonight?" Wow, Lasercorn's drunken mind mused, Joven must be really wasted. And then something incredibly unexpected happened. Not waiting for a reply, Joven leaned down, and, in one swift motion, kissed Matt, passionately on the lips. A pause.
What the actual hell is happening? David thought. What. the literal. hell. Matt's eyes widened in surprise and he quickly pushed him away. He opened his mouth furiously and started to say what sounded like "Dude, WHAT THE…" when Joven took advantage of his open mouth, and kissed him again, except this time also pushing him back into a wall and intertwining Matt's hand in his above his head. Sohinki took less time to process the shock now, and desperately tried to push him away, freaked out (obviously.)
David was confused. He already, because of the alcohol, could hardly remember basic motor skills - and such he found himself giving himself basic commands to follow, as that was one of the only ways he could actually function. He suddenly realized he was on the ground, having mostly likely fallen, and failed to catch himself. And so he continued to give himself basic commands to follow.
Now you have to sit up, David.
Now you have to stand up, David.
Now you have to steady yourself against the wall, David.
Eventually, there came a time, he knew not when, when his body just took over. It was scary, but also a relief. Just relinquishing control, letting your instinct and body take over and your mind rest for once.
Now you have to take a step forward, David.
And now you have to take another step, David. And another, David.
Soon he was next to Joven, who still had Matt pinned and struggling against the wall, and Matt, who was still desperately trying to break free, but finding it hard to do without the use of his hands. David's mind was foggy, and his brain was barely registering his actions.
Now you have to move forward, David.
Now you have to grab Joven, David.
Now you have to throw Joven, David.
Well that came as a shock, even to his foggy mind. y\Yet he could hardly even process what was going on, and had long since relinquished control of his mental facilities to the warm glow of the beer and vodka.
Now you have to reach out to Matt, David.
Now you have to hug Matt, David.
Now you have to stand there, David.
You have to let him cry into your shoulder, David.
And then a thought popped up. A thought that, although the terrible state he was in, he would remember forever. A thought that would guide and change him. a thought that would mold and shape his life.
Now you have to protect Matt, David.
David Moss woke up on the cold, hard floor of a broom closet in the Smosh Games HQ, curled up next to an old mop and a broom. Once he was sure he was awake, he quickly straightened up… only to lie right back down. His head pounded like nothing he'd ever felt before. His stomach churned with nausea, and some may other parts of him hurt, it didn't seem worth it to catalogue them. His brain quickly formed his first thought of the day. Hangover. Eventually though, he straightened up, and opened the door, letting in the light of the day, which further disturbed his headache, and stepping out.
Hehehe - I'm coming out of the closet, he thought impishly. He walked to his office, trying to ignore the searing pain in his head. Oh, well, he had some medicine in his desk that would help, at least a little. As he finally arrived there and opened the door, he was greeted by his co-worker. Well, not exactly greeted. Sohinki's sleeping face was turned in his direction and he lay, layed luton the ground, holding… something in his hands. David, curious about the unidentifiable object in his grasp, moved closer to him to try to see what it was, yet still taking care not to be too loud, lest he wake him.
Whatever it was, he was holding it up to his face, and close to his nose, and was wearing it and snuggling it against his chin. It was almost as if he was breathing in it's scent… Just then David felt a chill. That was weird. He didn't normally get random chills or feel cold. It just wasn't in his blood. He turned toward the wall toward the culprit - the slightly opened window, reached out to close it and shut it and then he realized.
He was missing an article of clothing. His hoodie. He never felt cold as long as he had it. So where could it be… David's eyes came to rest upon the sleeping Sohinki's face, and then on the item he'd been clutching. His hoodie. Ridiculously big (on Matt at least - but, then again, everything was ridiculously big on Matt), It hung halfway down his thighs, and he had clutched the hood of it and was, well, snuggling it and inhaling its scent as he slept. Memories of last night came flooding back to David, at first piece by piece, and then all in a rush.
Before he even knew what he was doing he had bent down and lightly kissed the forehead of the dozing Jewish boy. He looked down at the sleeping angel once more, and smiled. He quietly tiptoed past him and sat down at his desk, smiling from ear to ear. He tried to be as quiet as possible while rifling through his games. He heard a soft hum, and looked back just in time to see Matt, while still sleeping, curl into a ball, clutching the hood even more tightly under his chin. David smiled, and decided to let his - well, whatever he was to him now anyway, sleep.
He was probably tired. He would wake him up later.
