TITLE: Kiss in the Dark
AUTHOR: Athena Asamiya
SERIES: Guilty Gear X
TYPE: Part 1/1, Solky humour fic.
RATING: PG-13
WARNING: Sol x Ky shounen ai. Mild language. General drunken antics from Ky. Asa-chan trying to write humour is a warning in itself. O_o;;
SETTING: Post-Guilty Gear X. I swear they end up living together. ^^
THEME: "Load Me Up" by Matthew Good Band. (>D)
COMMENTS: ...I'll get it out right now: I royally STINK at humourous fics. So much so that I really haven't tried writing one for years -- I feel that all my style and flair that's usually saved for the dramatic goes flying out the window. And since Ky-chan's birthday is today (November 20th), I figured I'd write a fic for him, but instead of going for my usual well-honed angst-and-drama....I ended up writing THIS. XP Actually, this fic (originally dubbed "Just Another Quiet Evening Out...", it was renamed after a kickass Masami Okui song that I love) is one that I've owed Roo since August sometime; she originally made the request that I try writing something light and humourous for a change. So here, Roo, this is what you get, and this crappy thing is dedicated to you. >D It's more of a parodical take - though it's still fluffy in places - on the Sol x Ky pairing, since I'm not totally adverse to poking fun at this coupling every now and then. XD I'm still not sure if this fic is amusing, hilarious, or just really stupid. You be the judge -- review it and tell me what you think. Sorry I couldn't resist the Japanese quip at the end -- Sol players/fans should recognize it, regardless. ^^;; Happy happy birthday 155-years-in-the-future to you, Ky Kiske -- just remember to go easy on the booze next time, deshou? ^_~
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"....It is not like I am requesting that you ALWAYS dress like this!! Just for tonight, and tonight only! I am pleading with you, Sol!"
"Look. There's no way in HELL I'm wearing THAT."
"There is nothing wrong with dressing nicely once and a while, instead of your usual outlandish getup -- which would be more at home on a common street punk, may I add..."
"Making fun of my clothes, boy? I wouldn't go there if I were you -- I don't wear a uniform with a skirt."
"How many times do I have to tell you, it is NOT a skirt, it is- no, I see the smirk on your face, you are simply trying to get my mind off other things. You are wearing this, and that's final."
"And what if I say no and watch you spaz instead?"
"Then you do not get my cooperation in bed tonight, or the rest of the week, for that matter. And if you try to force me like you always do, you shall see that I have not become out of practice with my magics. Make your choice."
Grumbling, Sol Badguy headed off to change into the much-hated sports coat and tie in his arms, wondering how the hell he let the boy boss him around like that. After all, HE was the prototype Gear, the infamous Flame of Corruption, one of the most badass bounty hunters in the known world...and yet he was being conned by an angelic little Godboy into dressing formally for once, which he hadn't done in centuries, at least. Ky knew, as well as he did, that his weak spot in their relationship was the sexual fulfillment of it, and so the more decent of the two lovers was able to use that to his advantage. Which he did, quite frequently.
And now Sol was being pressured, on threat of no sex for a week and probable electrocution if he tried to force it, to abandon his beloved RIOT clothing for a goddamn TIE. There was something definitely wrong with this picture.
"And you had better wear a dress shirt under that jacket, not that old tank top of yours!"
In the midst of changing, Sol growled inwardly. The things he did for that stubborn boy. Well, and the chance to screw the boy's brains out. But he almost wondered if it was worth looking like a dork in public. His reputation would be totally ruined.
Let's just see what I can do to get back at him, Sol thought devilishly while knotting his tie loosely, grinning in a way that many of his victims knew was not a pleasant sign indeed. If he's gonna make me look like his trained bitch, I'll have to show him differently. My reputation won't be the only one that gets fucked over -- I'll be taking him down with me.
Shrugging the coat onto his broad shoulders, Sol glared at his now rather smartly-dressed reflection in the bedroom mirror. Ky must have bought the outfit on his last trip to downtown Paris -- no way would Sol himself be caught dead in one of those shops. Though he couldn't help but snicker at the thought of Ky trying on all the different outfits in a fancy clothing store. At least he wasn't as stereotypically gay as Ky was, shopping for drapes and goddamn teacups-
"Are you ready yet? The reservations were made for ten o'clock sharp!"
Sol chose not to answer this, as he was sure the only thing that would come out of his mouth right now would be obscenities of some form or another. Scowling at his reflection, he wisely decided to keep his headband on. He was far too used to wearing it - even now, he only removed it when in the confines of their apartment, or when making crazy hot love to Ky - and there was nothing that would kill the peaceful mood of a quiet evening out like a public panic at the sighting of a new Gear.
Hmmm. That'd actually be pretty damn fun. Something the boy wouldn't expect... His ungloved hand paused at the belts that held his thick headband on, then he eventually shrugged and decided against it. Too much personal risk. Last thing he wanted was a bunch of overzealous, half-assed excuses for "Gear hunters" to come barging in after him.
Though he hadn't really had a good brawl in a long while...eh. Maybe he'd have the chance to slip out tonight and find a barfight somewhere. Get his frustrations out at having to wear a sports coat.
As Sol lowered his hands, he glanced at the ring on his left hand, catching the light and reflecting in the mirror. They weren't legally married, though they might as well be, for all the quarreling they did.
He let a knowing smile slip. And for all the making up they did afterwards. That boy was one fantastic lay...just the night before, they had-
"Sol, ARE YOU COMING???"
He grit his teeth, barely choking down the instinctive "shut the fuck up" that was begging to be yelled back. His fantasies weren't something to be interrupted. He's getting payback for this, he's so fucking getting payback for this...wonder if I still have those handcuffs around here somewhere for next time he wants to have 'just innocent, casual sex'...yeah, that'll show him...
Enticed by the mental image of the boy naked, cuffed and moaning in pleasure, Sol was hardly able to mask the lecherous grin on his face as he returned to Ky, putting his grouchy and glaring expression back in place. "There. Hope you're happy. I want to kick my own ass."
"Better, much better!" Ky said enthusiastically while ignoring Sol's last comment, clasping his hands together in delight at his partner's more formal appearance. "Though I suppose nothing can be done about your hair...?" On impulse, the blond reached out to touch Sol's typical mess of brown spikes, to which the Gear bared his teeth in warning. "Don't even think about touching the hair, boy. You're just damn lucky I even agreed to put this stupid outfit on."
"But you look so much more...refined this way," Ky murmured, slipping his arm through Sol's with a sly smile. "It brings out more of your elegant qualities."
Ky thought the use of the word 'elegant' was a compliment. On the other hand, it just reassured Sol's nagging thought that he looked like an utter moron. Nevertheless, Sol booted his worries away with a well-placed Riot Stamp (while briefly wondering just why that attack wasn't named "stomp" as opposed to something you stick on a letter), as the feel of Ky's hand on his arm bred some more desirable thoughts. He pulled the younger man close, smirking proudly. "Elegant, my ass. No matter how you say it, I'm pretty fucking sexy."
"Mmmm, full of yourself as usual, but I choose not to argue that-" Ky's words were cut off as Sol's lips met his, and the two of them loudly and passionately made out for probably around five minutes before Ky pulled away, though just a bit reluctantly. ".....No, Sol, none of this now. I went to such trouble to get these reservations, and they were highly expensive-"
Sol stroked Ky's cheek with a calm smile, though inside he was rejoicing at possibly having found a way out of this whole dress-up shitjob. "So? Screw the restaurant. I like the thought of staying in a whole lot better..." He moved towards Ky again, but came up nuzzling empty air, as Ky had by now moved to the door. The blond-haired one tossed his head back at Sol as he put his jacket on, throwing him a flippant grin. "You forget I know your games too well, love. There is no way for you to get out of THIS one. I would suggest that you give up and come along with me."
His lover muttered something better left unsaid under his breath before following begrudgingly.
As the pair took to the streets of the city, Ky could only feel a little smug at having Sol right where he wanted him. It had taken a lot of persuading and pushing on his part, but he finally had his chance to introduce Sol to the civilized world. He had been immersed in the wretched undertow of society for far too long. I shall make him into a gentleman yet. His soul and mannerisms can still be saved. I know it. Even so, he reached over and took Sol's hand, fingers tightening as he watched his lover's hard expression soften just a little. Sol's haunting two-tone gaze looked down at Ky's face, a hint of a smile gleaming in their depths. "...You know you're not getting away with this, boy."
Ky smiled calmly in return. "I already have. You are here with me, and you are not leaving until after we have had a quiet evening out like a normal couple."
"Normal? What's normal about a Gear and a human who fuck each other on a daily basis?" The bounty hunter smirked, proud of his crude, typical American usage of English. Ky, on the other hand, clucked his tongue and squeezed his hand once. "Such language. Then again, I suppose I cannot expect much else from a miscreant raised on the streets."
A lightbulb went off in Sol's head, which promptly dimmed and burned out, as most of Sol's bright ideas (none of them necessarily GOOD ideas) were apt to do. "...Miscreant, huh? Then I guess you can't expect me to have very good dining skills either. Or social skills in general." Good plan...now the boy's gonna be so busy worrying over whether or not I'll fuck up that he'll make an idiot of himself without my help. He smiled, yet another rather frightening expression. Revenge is just too damn sweet.
Ky's mind, meanwhile, was racing. I never considered...he was never brought up in a cultured setting, so how can I expect him to behave like a gentleman? He will have no idea how to act in a place of formality-
Then there was Sol. .....Actually, it'll be fun just watching him stew over this. Heh.
Ky: -I will not have another chance at this, but if I cannot keep an eye on his behaviour, he may end up humiliating the both of us...yes, I must watch his every move, make sure he is not doing anything wrong, that he is behaving in a manner befitting his appearance-
Sol: Oh yeah. He'll be the one to screw things up, all right. I'll just have to sit back and watch.
Ky: -but his uncouth ways may give everything away, oh how did I ever expect this to go off correctly, I must make sure nothing goes wrong with tonight-
Take a guess: ....Fuck, I need a smoke.
By the time they approached the entrance to the restaurant, Sol was smirking, and Ky was looking very pale. The tides had been turned yet again, and as usual, they were heading in Sol's favour. There were some apparent bonuses to being the main character of the series.
The restaurant was called La Renaissance; a civilized, upper-class type of dining place in the heart of their home city, St. Germain, and it had a reputation for being one of the finest establishments in the city. Of course, the city was all full of rich people, and since a police officer and a bounty hunter don't really have a high collective income, they didn't exactly fit in. More so was the case of Sol, since he obviously had a very different look about him ("ruffian-like", as Ky had once described him), and although Ky had no problem feeling at home in the high-class French city, Sol definitely looked out of place -- but like he cared. He was using the opportunity to try out his favorite I-Could-Kick-All-Your-Asses-You-Stupid-Pussies-So-Get-The-Hell-Away-From-Me glare to scare away anyone who looked at him. It was working.
Ky, who was talking to the maitre'd in rapid-fire French, paused only once to lay an admonishing hand on Sol's shoulder, giving him a warning look. "Behave," he hissed under his breath.
Sol rolled his eyes unpleasantly. "Make me."
Not daring to say anything more to his partner, Ky turned back to the doorman, barely managing to muster a heaving sigh. It was going to be a long night.
After clearing Ky's precious reservations, they were led into the restaurant, a dimly-lit and classy place with fancy tablecloths, lit candles, soft classical music playing and tuxedoed waiters speaking in quiet French to the rest of the place's customers. True enough, it really was more of a formal place on the inside with everyone dressed up, but that did little to soothe Sol's soreness over being cornered into this stupid situation. But after they had been seated at a mostly-secluded table and the waiter brought out a complementary bottle of white wine, Sol's eyes fairly lit up. Perfect idea. But first, to annoy him...
He looked down in front of him, eyes immediately settling on the multiple forks, knives and spoons laid out in perfect neat rows. He poked at them, shuffling them around in curiousity. "Why the hell do you French have to have everything so damn complicated? There's twenty million pieces of cutlery here."
"That is because they serve different purposes," Ky replied coldly, pointing briefly to each. "Appetizer, salad, main course, dessert, and others. It will matter which one you choose."
"You can't just use one for everything?"
"NO."
"....Screw etiquette."
Ky exhaled in frustration. "All you have to do is work your way from the inside out. It really is NOT difficult."
Sol glared again. "You saying I'm stupid?"
"Only when it comes to certain matters." From the corner of one eye, Ky spied the bottle of expensive Meursault that he had ordered to be put on ice. Despite being a whole 27 years of age (though looking about all of 15), he had never drank before, but was willing to give it a shot -- anything that would help him survive this night.
"I need a smoke," Sol was grumbling, fishing around in one of his pockets for his usual pack of cigarettes. When he was triumphant, he motioned to the burning candle at their table, asking, "Think they'd mind if I lit it with this?"
"Of COURSE they would mind!" Ky growled, fetching the bottle of wine in unseen desperation. "It shows a complete lack of etiquette!"
"Oh. What the hell." Sol moved to light the cigarette anyway, stopping only when Ky snatched it out of his hand, tossing it on the floor and crushing it underneath his shoe. The spiky-haired Gear shot his best pissed-off glare at his lover. "That. Was my last smoke."
"Well, you need to quit that awful habit anyway!" Ky shot back, leaning over the table with an almost-equally ferocious look. "And PLEASE, listen to what I say! You need to use the proper etiquette when dining out, and I know it is not any fault of yours that you have never learned, but now is the time! Do you understand me?"
But Sol didn't answer him -- his face was already behind the menu, eyes scrutinizing the eloquent writing and expression looking almost bewildered. Exasperated by this point, Ky hissed, "What is the matter?"
Sol's two-tone eyes flicked towards him once, then back to the menu. "I can't read this."
"It is IN FRENCH."
"Well, no shit."
"Why can you not read it?"
"I don't speak French."
Ky turned to him, expression incredulous. "....HOW can you not speak French?? You have been living in St. Germain for over a year now! Surely you would have picked the language up by now-"
He shrugged casually. "I didn't bother."
The former Knight buried his face in his hands. "You. Are impossible." Desperately, he uncorked the bottle of Meursault, poured a glass and downed it in one gulp. Sol raised an eyebrow. Hm, maybe I should be a BIT concerned...eh. "...Hey, boy, you sure you can handle that much? You've already had-"
"Be quiet," Ky muttered, cutting him off while pouring another glass of wine. "I do not need your permission to drink." He quickly swallowed that whole glass as well, slamming the bottle down on the table. "You are acting MOST contrary tonight. I need something to help cope with that awful attitude of yours."
"Awful?" Sol smirked. "You're the one who dragged me here. I'm putting up with it as best I can." He motioned to the half-empty bottle of wine sitting by the candles. "You really better stop it with that stuff, boy. I'm warning you -- you're gonna be out of it if you keep taking that shit in."
"I will not," Ky snapped, taking the bottle again. "I will prove you wrong, vulgarian...I can hold my alcohol as well as anyone-" And he drank another glass.
Ten minutes later found them not even into the main course, and Ky was already completely drunk.
"...Oh, I am simply FINE!!" Ky was exclaiming wholeheartedly, waving a hand at Sol and grinning broadly, though swaying a bit. "There is no (hic) evidence that I am (hic) drunk whatsoever!!"
Sol groaned in frustration, realizing more and more that letting Ky get himself drunk was a Profoundly Bad Idea. "Boy, you're so fucking plastered I don't think you can even SEE straight."
"Of couuuurse I can!" Ky assured him with a wobbly smile, peering up into Sol's face, eyes bleary and not entirely focused. "I see you, don't I? Hm? Hmmm?" He moved his chair right up against Sol's, so close that he was nearly sitting unsteadily in Sol's lap. While watching Sol's face (which currently had a "why do I deserve this shit" look on it), he paused for a long time, seemingly in drunken thought, before another too-huge smile creased his face. "Your eyes are....mmmm....so beautiful..."
Sol, really unsure what to make of this situation (Back away, or take advantage? Back away, or take advantage?), let his common sense get the better of him, trying at least to pull away a bit. "...Hey, uh...Ky, maybe I had better take you home..."
"Nonsense!" Ky slurred happily, leaning on the table with one hand and waving the almost-empty wine bottle with the other. "I am having (hic) so much fun here with you-" Suddenly, his hand slipped on the table, sending him directly into Sol's lap with a delighted cry. Sol sighed, now deciding it wouldn't be best to encourage Ky's behaviour. "Dammit, Ky, we're going home. You're drunk out of your mind."
Ky turned over in Sol's lap, grinning up at his partner. "Eheheh, nooooo I'm not~! I'm simply a little bit...ah...a little bit tipsy? Is that not the word? What an interesting word, tipsy...tipsy, tipsy..." The rest of the words Ky babbled were barely understandable, but Sol just kind of groaned and forced Ky to sit up. "...This was one hell of a bad idea...should've known that most humans can't take that much..."
"Mmmm, well, you are a FINE one to talk, Fred-er-ick," Ky murmured, poking Sol's chest and pouting mock-dejectedly. "Am I to assume YOU were no such 'party animal' when YOU were human? Hm? Hm? How about it, Freddie?"
Sol exhaled sharply, and growled in exasperation, "No. Okay, no. If you want the truth, I was a nerd with social anxiety disorder who barely left his room and buried himself in books. There, happy? NOW we're going." Almost as an afterthought, Sol brought Ky's face towards his and snarled, "And if you ever fucking call me that name again, I'm going to seriously hurt you in more ways than one. Let's go, and I mean now."
"No!" Ky protested loudly, pushing away weakly with huge tears gathering in his eyes. "Sol, you are being so mean...do you...do you not love me anymore?"
"Oh, for Christ's SAKE....."
"Well...well...I will prove my love for you!! Then you will regain your feelings for me!!" It was on this incredibly inebriated impulse that Ky, nearly stumbling at this point, stood up on his chair in the middle of the restaurant, motioned broadly to Sol and announced in a loud holler, "I LOVE THIS MAN!!!"
Complete and utter silence ensued.
Sol buried his face in his hands.
Only to unbury them in disbelief when Ky, still standing on the chair, started into a very raucous, very off-key rendition of Queen's "Stone Cold Crazy", before loudly reminding Sol - in full graphic detail - of the last time they'd had sex while listening to that song.
It was at that point that Sol bodily dragged Ky out of the restaurant, and they didn't return to that place ever again.
As the pair walked home (albeit that Ky's walk was more like a drunken stumble, and Sol practically had to hold him up), Sol, though he was still more embarrassed than he would admit to, couldn't help but manage a smirk. Mission accomplished. He pulled Ky closer, grinning as he tried to keep the blond steady. "Guess we won't be going out for dinner again, huh, boy?"
Ky looked up at Sol through glassy blue eyes. "....uhhhnhnn? Whazzatyousay?"
Sol groaned again. "Nothing."
To this, his partner grinned stupidly, throwing both arms around Sol tightly and squealing like a little girl at an N*SYNC concert. "....Sol, you are so....so wonderful to me....!! I have no idea what I would do without you...."
Sol, having nearly been thrown into the curb by Ky's enthusiastic glomping, tried to regain his footing while patting Ky on the head. "Dammit, why can't you act like this all the time? Should've known it'd take too much booze to drop your inhibitions..."
Ky snuggled closer to him, nuzzling his arm before gazing up into his face with shining blue eyes, cheeks still tinted red from too much alcohol in his system. "Kiss me, you barbarous lout. KISS ME!!"
"Don't need to tell me twice-" In the shadows of the night street, Sol (all too willing to take advantage of Ky's uninhibited state) pulled Ky forward and kissed him deeply, to which Ky gave back an equal, unabashed amount of passion that he wouldn't have ever dared to do, even in a PDA. Sol also had to take a moment to make a rather threatening and obscene hand gesture at a group of squealing Japanese fangirls who bustled up to take slashy photos for their webpages and doujinshi inspiration. As soon as their lips pulled apart, Ky, misty-eyed, let out a definitely drunken giggle and whispered, "I...I am so...so happy..."
Then he passed out completely.
"Yare yare da ze..."
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Guilty Gear X fanfiction "Kiss in the Dark" © Athena Asamiya, 2001.
Use in whole or in part of this fanfiction without permission is prohibited. If you wish to use this fanfiction for any purpose, please obtain permission prior to doing so.
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Guilty Gear X, Sol Badguy and Ky Kiske, copyright 1998-2001 Sammy Co., Arc System Works Co., Team Neo Blood, and Atlus.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY KY-CHAAAAAAN!!!! ^^
but i always knew you're my destroyer . . . . . .
~ heaven.coming.down :: http://heaven.morethanart.org ~