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NOTES: Short notes today, as I've apparently got a fifteen-minutes time limit. After much deliberation I've decided to stick with shounen ai as opposed to something… spicier, if you will, as this story lends itself more to fluff than all-out smut. That and I've lost my confidence with explicit sex scenes since my X-Files fic writing days of old. I wonder, though, what my boyfriend will say if I ever tell him he's being indirectly used as "research material" ^_^
Thankee-sai's this chapter go to: Miss Marisa, AD-Chan, Popcorn Oracle, Gimp 666, Teri-Teri, and Gimp 666 again. For those of you who asked, this chapter's got a lil bit o' explanation of how they got there. True to my word, I think you'll find it very vague and implausible. "Portal" is such a beautifully ambiguous word.
Finally, the Late Update Excuse o' the week. See, my Yearbook teacher told me on Tuesday that I'd somehow have to finish my cover design by Friday, around the same time my Lit teacher announced a re-test on Thursday. Long story short, the cover turned into the longest CG job of my entire life, and I had to skip infotech class to study for the re-test. The good news is I have a chance to get my design on the cover (I'll try to get it up at Mediaminer when it's been cleaned up), the bad news is I probably went down in flames on that Metaphysical poetry essay, worth 20 marks or so on the test.
Didn't I say I was going to keep this short? Keh, I digress. Thankee thankee again for the reviews, as they have kept this story alive throughout the Week O' Hell. You people are too good to me. And now, what you've (possibly) all been waiting for… LET THE BOY-LOVE COMMENCE!
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Consciousness returned to Rocco with excruciating slowness. It was like crawling up out of a deep, relaxing sleep – only it hurt a lot more. He groaned as the feeling returned to his battered body in short jabs and pinches, centring on what he suspected was a broken rib. Never had he missed more the perks of autorepair. Maybe it would just be better to pass out again.
A noise to his right offered a convincing argument against that thought. Rocco hadn't realized he wasn't alone in the small food services room. His eyes snapped open, and after they adjusted to the lack of light he took stock of his surroundings, all the while avoiding any excessive movement. What he saw made him momentarily forget his pain. There on the floor to his right sat Ford, back propped up against a cabinet door, head down and face obscured by hair. The sound that had brought Rocco to consciousness had been Ford's breathing, which came now in shaky, erratic bursts. That sound could only mean one thing, and Rocco dared not believe it.
Ford is… crying?
"…Ford?" he said after a moment's hesitation.
The other boy said nothing, but Rocco heard his breathing catch. Ford evidently hadn't noticed his adversary's awakening. A heavy silence hung between them until Roco tried again.
"… Forte?"
He responded to this with a choked coughing sound, probably meant to be a chuckle. Even in the dark Rocco could see a glint of white as Ford forced a grin.
"Rock," he said simply.
The brunette sat up carefully, trying not to aggravate his injuries. That rib didn't feel broken, now that he thought about it, just bruised. Not that he'd know, really, having never broken a rib before. Slowly, he made his way across the floor and knelt beside Forte's outstretched legs, facing the purple-haired boy. It was then that he noticed the darkness on Ford's hands. He peered between the violet strands at Ford's face and gasped at the amount of that darkness he saw there.
"You're bleeding."
He didn't wait for Ford to respond, but stood, and grabbed a cloth from beside the sink, wet it, and returned to the former Wily bot's side. Ford showed no sign of moving, to attack or otherwise. He just sat there breathing shakily with closed eyes, so still Rocco wondered if he was unconscious again. With utmost care, Rocco pushed back Ford's hair and began to wipe the blood and tears from his face. The source of the former was a fair-sized gash above his right eye where his head had connected with the counter edge. When Rocco came to it he gingerly dabbed the wound with a clean section of cloth. Ford reacted instantly, roaring in pain and swatting Rocco's arm away. Rocco watched, confused, as Ford hunched over, hands hovering just over the cut on his forehead.
"Aaaugh!" he cried. "Shit! Ah DAMMIT!" It HURTS! It FUCKING HURTS!"
Rocco was baffled. It was only a superficial cut, if a particularly nasty looking one. Ford's curses subsided to incoherent moans and periodic gasping sobs. Not knowing why he was so concerned about the person who had, only a short time ago, been trying to kill him, Rocco placed a comforting hand on Ford's arm. The sounds of suffering stopped, and Ford spoke again.
"Wily… built into me the ability to feel pain. But that was only an imitation, wasn't it? I had… no idea. That something so small could reduce me to… to…" Ford couldn't finish the thought, and grew silent once again.
Rocco's eyes widened. He understood now; h remembered his first few weeks as a human, and his first experience with pain. Light was good at what he did, but he never could have prepared Rock for what real pain felt like. Even small bruises and cuts had been debilitating until Rocco finally got used to the sensation. Ford had probably only been there for a few days, and his injuries were far worse than Rocco's had been during those first weeks.
"This body is so WEAK," Ford spat. "It hurts in ways I didn't know were possible. I don't even understand my own thoughts any more. I thought I wanted to impress that jackass, Wily. I thought I wanted to prove myself to him, to be powerful, and most all to kill YOU. Those things… they've driven me for as long as I can remember."
Ford looked up at last, his eyes once again full of that fierce emotion Rock had glimpsed the night before.
"So Wily builds this stupid gateway, this portal to whatever the hell this world is. Finds out it turns robots into humans when they cross over. The whole thing was a trap – you know that, right? We were supposed to lure you and Blues into his lab and send you through. He thought it would be easier to kill you without Light or your weapon to back you up."
Why is he telling me this? Rocco wondered, more confused than ever.
"He was thrilled when I crossed over into a relatively strong body, and gave me the privilege of finishing you off. Suddenly, though, I'm wondering why I serve that fool in the first place. Why do I spend my life bent on destruction? I don't want to prove myself to anyone anymore, and I don't particularly want to kill you. I don't UNDERSTAND this, Rock."
Forte put his hand on Rocco's shoulder, causing the smaller boy to jump, then swallow nervously.
"And what I DO want… Rock, I…" Ford faltered, "I had… no… idea…"
With these last words, Ford's eyes took on a pleading look. Then the hand on Rocco's shoulder slid down to his collar and tugged, bringing Rocco's head forward until his lips met Forte's. Blue eyes widened as red ones closed. The feeling of Forte's lips against his awakened emotions and sensations in Rocco so new and exquisite they threatened to overwhelm him. This was what it had been about; the stirring in him when they had gazed at each other for so long, the irrational need to touch Ford's hair, even the intensity of his initial reluctance to fight. Without even realizing it, this was what he had wanted.
Maybe this feeling had been there before he entered this world and body. But if Dr. Light had failed to accurately synthesize pain, he had done even worse with love. What Rock felt as a bot was some general affection for his family, and a sense of responsibility toward the rest of the world. He loved enough to protect. But this, THIS love was so different, so unique to this human mind. So GOOD. This kiss had joy and fireworks and emotions yet unidentifiable welling up in his head. Tears formed in his eyes, pleasure danced down his spine, and when he finally pulled away pinpricks of fire remained on his lips. And THAT kiss had been relatively chaste.
Ford looked even worse for wear, almost comically so. His eyes were glazed over and unfocused with pleasure, half-lidded as his entire face had entered a state of supreme relaxation. He licked his lips, a small gesture that sent a jolt of desire straight through Rocco. The brunette raised a trembling hand to the side of Ford's head, tangling his fingers in the soft purple hair that hung there. His impulse was satisfied, his curiosity rewarded with the feel of locks softer than even he had imagined. Overjoyed even by something so simple, he let his eyes slip shut as Ford drew forward and recaptured his lips.
Rocco responded eagerly this time, crushing his lips against Ford's with an amount of force that seemed to surprise the purple-haired boy. If their reactions to that first kiss had been good, the sensations they experienced this time bordered on euphoric. All rational thought left Rocco the instant he felt Ford part his lips with his own, and slip a warm, hesitant tongue inside. He did this all with deliberate slowness, forcing both of them to savour the moment. And savour it they did.
Rocco's tongue countered Ford's danced with it briefly then pushed forward and ran across his teeth, careful of the fangs. Every movement of Ford's lips and tongue sent a bloom of warmth through Rocco, spreading out from his mouth to envelop his entire body. When Ford sighed and shifted his attention to Rocco's lower lip, sucking and gently biting, a shiver coursed down Rocco's spine.
And when Ford's hand crept under the hem of Rocco's t-shirt, the shiver became an outright shudder, on of pure, instinctive pleasure. The slight touch of fingertips against skin left trails of heat, deep firey impressions that brought forth a gasp, then a quiet moan from Rocco's mouth. Ford's palms then met the soft skin of Rocco's stomach. The smaller boy arched his back, pressing into those burning, outspread hands. They crept around Rocco's body, their deft thumbs rubbing circles on the boy's back.
Looking to further decrease the space between them, Rocco placed a hand on Ford's thigh and pushed himself closer to the former Wily bot. At the contact, Ford's leg twitched noticeably, and his kiss grew even more intense. He dragged his hands up the brunette's side until they met the bruise Rocco had earlier mistakened for a broken rib, at which point the former Light bot tore his lips from Fords and hissed in pain.
"Rock, what –" Ford asked.
"Augh, ah… it's nothing," Rocco sat back on his heels and looked away from the taller boy.
Ford lifted Rocco's shirt and inspected the bruise with a mixture of concern and sadness in his expression. His hand hovered over the wound, then pulled back and clenched into a fist.
"I hurt you," Ford said.
"It's okay, Forte," Rocco assured him, "it doesn't hurt much at all."
"But… I hurt you." Ford closed his eyes and lowered his head, letting those purple strands obscure his face once again.
"And I did it for that asshole, Wily. He made me think I was invincible because I could tolerate 'pain'. He made me hurt you and your family. Rock, I don't want to be his servant anymore, not now that my will is my own. I want to pay him for everything he's done…"
Ford looked up them, and with a hand that shook almost imperceptibly – whether with desire or anger, Rocco couldn't tell – gently caressed the side of Rocco's face.
"… most of all… what he's done to you…"
He spoke these last words in a whisper, then planted a soft, chaste kiss on Rocco's lips, and both boys rose from the floor. They found the door to the hallway unlocked and left the small food services room. The corridors were still dark and empty, making them wonder just how long they had been unconscious. Something occurred to Rocco.
"Fort – Ford, did Wily install any cameras when he rigged up the rest of the school?" he asked.
"No," Ford replied, then chuckled softly, "he was confident we could keep an eye on you. He WILL try to check in eventually, though… I'm surprised he hasn't done so yet."
As if on cue, Wily's voice rang out from the speaker above them, and every other speaker within the school.
"Forte, are you quite finished? I can't believe even YOU would take this long to kill that little blue shit. If you're not to BUSY, I'd appreciate a status report."
Ford bristled and stalked over to the nearest phone. Rocco went and stood by his side, watching as the purple-haired boy jabbed angrily at the buttons and waited to be connected to the office.
"Hey BOSS, I'm working on it," he said icily. "That bastard's faster than you thi--… no, I've got this covered… look, half and hour's all I need… yeah, fine."
Ford hung up the phone hastily and grabbed Rocco's arm, breaking into a run with the smaller boy in tow.
"Do you know anyone who can hack into Wily's system?" Ford asked.
"Josh is pretty good at that sort of thing," Rocco replied. "Why? Where are we going?"
"To find a computer," Ford answered, "and ruin the good Doctor's afternoon."