#im not complaining by any means. maybe shes feeling I'm having a dip in my mood and decided yo keep me company. or something

[wampiryzm]

my dog who usually sleeps with my mom during the night has decided to sleep in my bed two night in a row. what is it sweetheart. am I the only one who has not wronged you

[drblood-bringer-of-death]

Yay! Another Tyrian x Watts fanfiction for Nuts and Volts week! Seriously I cant get enough of these guys! Anyway, hope everyone over at @nutsandvoltsweek enjoys it!

Waltzing into love

Warnings: literally just some mild cursing.

They hated it. Every single second of being stuck in the stuffy, crowded room full of pompous, rich assholes. Arthur glared at anyone unfortunate enough to make eye contact with him and he stayed as far away from the dance floor as possible. He hated parties as much as he hated people. He would much rather be back in the grimm lands, tinkering away at his inventions without a single interruption. But he was not the only one who hated being there. As grand and beautiful as Atlesian parties were, they had a very strict policy to them. No Faunus, No improper dress, and absolutely No exceptions. Tyrian, as sporadic and chaotic as the man was, unfortunately was the best fit to go with Arthur to this party. Salem decided that Hazel would be too intimidating, Emerald and Mercury were too young,  and Cinder would have stuck out like a sore thumb. So Tyrian was voluntold to attend as Arthur's date. He sulked even more than Arthur did. He might have even hated it more than the mustached man. Due to the strict policy, Tyrian had to wear what he considered "constrictive" clothing. And worst of all he couldn't even use his tail! Arthur had insisted he hide it, since it was against the rules. Tyrian fought him on it, to no avail as he knew Arthur was right. So the two brooded in their fancy clothing in a corner of the ballroom. They avoided everyone and if it wasn't for Arthur's accursed reputation he would have never even attended this godforsaken party. Maybe he could figure out some way to fake his death or even actually die just to avoid these parties.

"This is pointless!" Tyrian growled.

"It's not entirely pointless, but it's Incredibly dull." Arthur retorted, focusing all his attention on his scroll.

"Why did I have to come here?! I hate this! I feel like I'm restricting all my natural instincts!" Tyrian continued to complain as he pulled on the dark purple tie around his neck.

"Stop pulling at that you'll undo it! And you know why she chose you to come with me. And stop tugging on the tie!" Arthur said angrily as he turned towards Tyrian, who had managed to actually undo his tie. "How did you even? Ugh just let me fix it!" Arthur swatted away Tyrians hands and grabbed ahold of the tie. Fastening it once again.

"Ahem, am I interrupting anything?" The unwanted and annoying voice of Jaques Schnee broke through Arthurs grumbling. His brow twitched in annoyance and he sighed before facing the unbearable aristocrat.

"Why Jaques, what a pleasure to see you again." Arthur lied through his teeth.

"A pleasure as well. Who, may I ask, are you?" He directed the question towards Tyrian who stiffened as a response.

"Uh, Tyrian Callows, associate of Watts here." He shook the older man's hand in forced politeness.

"Well it's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Callows. I had no idea Arthur was into such… interesting company." His tone of voice and the way he glanced at Arthur smugly,  clearly portrayed that he suspected something else. "why I'd even say you might be planning something… more forbidding." Tyrian pailed, could he really figure them out that easily? He looked at Arthur and they shared a panicked look.

"Jaques if you're suggesting-" Arthur started to accuse him but Jaques cut him off.

"Oh come now Arthur, you know i wouldn't care if you were gay, it's quite common nowadays, and I've been suspecting it for a while anyway-" Watts and Tyrians faces went bright red. "I was simply baffled that you managed to find someone to deal with your arrogance." He finished.

"I-my arrogance- excuse me?!" Arthur said offhandedly. Jaques only laughed at him.

"Relax, you know that the General himself is gay right? Really it doesn't matter here, why not show some affection! Have a dance or two! There's nothing to hide." And before Arthur, pr even Tyrian for that matter, could stutter out a response Jaques turned on his heels and walked away smirking.

"Does he think-? I mean really?" Tyrian asked before bursting into uncontrollable laughter. His entire body shook with each inhale of breath. As he laughed and laughed Arthur's face grew more and more red, out of both embarrassment and anger.

"You shut up!" He snapped at Tyrian. Whose laughter seemed never ending. Making Arthurs anger grow.

"Re- hehehe- relax Arthur. Haha, as far as we know, this could be an advantage." Tyrian offered through dying giggles.

"What do you mean?" Arthurs anger sizzled but he stopped feeling the innate need to punch the Faunus. Tyrian wiped a tear from his eye.

"Well think about it. You could gain some massive publicity points if you came out as gay, and if we did it here it would be massively successful. All we have to do is dance a little bit and maybe hold hands. People will come to the conclusion on their own and it'll be all over the news tomorrow. "Infamous inventor Arthur Watts supporting his community through love!" Can you imagine that?" Arthur paused.

Unhinged, deranged, murderous, insane… and intelligent. Those are the words Arthur would use to describe Tyrian right now. As unpredictable as the man is, he could read people and play off them better than even Salem herself.

"That… could work." Arthur poundered. The plan was foolproof, and even if it went wrong then it would cause protests in the communities drawing grimm in. "Yes. It would work quite well." Arthur hummed to himself and Tyrian smirked.

"Well then let's get to it and put on a show!" He cheered in a manic giggle as he pulled Arthur away from their protective corner and into the center of the dancefloor. Arthur huffed behind him, not expecting the pull. Although he should really expect everything from Tyrian.

"I told you to relax already Arthur! All we need to do is dance a bit and act all coupley." Tyrian smirked again and Arthur got some sort of primal feeling in his gut to run. As if something far more sinister than even they had planned was happening. But he ignored it, it was not the first, or last, time he would have that feeling while with the scorpion.

"It's Impossible to relax with you" he retorted harshly, shifting himself and Tyrian into a waltzing position. Slowly the music ran through the room and the many people around them began to move to the three step beat.

"Your words wound me Arthur," Tyrian mocked. "I'm the most relaxing person I know! Well besides Hazel." He held back a giggle.

"Your a caffeinated maniac trapped inside a padded room. I absolutely do not find you relaxing!" Arthur all but growled.

"A bit touchy aren't you? Was it something that Mr. Schnee said that caught your nerves?" He smirked wildly at Arthur who tried his best to keep his composure. As he tried to calm his breathing Tyrians insane smile reached his eyes. "Oh my, your heart rate picked up! I must be onto something!" Arthur started to panic.

"You did not- wait you can sense my heart rate? No, nevermind that!" He attempted to gather his thoughts as he and Tyrian glided across the ballroom floor, sliding in time with everyone around them. If you weren't right next to the pair it would be like they were just enjoying themselves and not having a frantic argument.

"Poor Arthur Watts, not admitting that old Mr. Schnee was right! What an exciting evening this has become!" Tyrians giggles seemed to pour out of his mouth.

"Would you just shut up! I've already said that to you tonight, you psychopath! Now stop talking and lets finish this stupid dance!" Arthur was pissed off now, he couldn't stand looking at Tyrians pretty eyes or his handsome face any longer. So he decided to do something about it. As the song approached it's climax he brought Tyrian into a sudden spin, catching the scorpion off guard. As he pulled Tyrian back into him, he made up his mind. Placing one foot behind Tyrians and throwing his center of balance off, he dipped the younger man. He heard people around them gasp, some of them seemed shocked, but through all the noise he heard two distinct things. One: Jaques Schnee saying " I called it!", and two, Tyrian Callows' sharp inhale of breath. He pulled them back up. Releasing Tyrians lips as he did, and then he turned and walked out of the room.

Tyrian stumbled, that was not expected at all. He knew Arthur was gay but he never dared to dream that Arthur liked him. He got over the shock, more delayed than he'd like, but nevertheless he rushed after Arthur and found the man pacing an empty hallway.

"Why did I do that? What was the logic of that? It was pointless, im pointless. For fucks sake we're both adults why couldn't I just talk to him!?" Arthur mutters to himself as he paced, not even noticing that Tyrian was right next to him. "Damnit, that was so stupid! Why is he so handsomely intimidating? What can't I just be normal-"

"Because you're Arthur Watts, inventor and doctor, smarter than anyone else i know and absolutely hopelessly in love with me" Tyrian interrupted, his voice caught Arthur off guard and he would never admit how much that genuinely scared him.

"Ty- Tyrian look, what I-" he was cut off as said man lunged at him suddenly, crowding his precious space.

"Just shut up and kiss me again" the scorpion demanded as he rolled his eyes and pulled Arthur into him. Their lips crashed together again, yet the feeling was different. Before Arthur could barely feel the kiss at all, but now he felt like sparks were flying down his spine and static was invading his mind. Arthur let himself fall mentally, his brilliant mind failing him when he needed it most, so he just let it happen. Let his body do the talking for once.

Tyrian on the other hand was practically shaking with joy, he had a crush on the doctor for a while now but he truly never believed Arthur would like him back, let alone make the first move! He could not be happier even if his own goddess showed up just then! He felt as if nothing could ruin this sweet moment of love. And he was right, not a soul came out of the party to find them and they were left alone in the hallway. As Tyrian let go of Arthur he smiled. Not a crazed, classic Tyrian smile, but a calm, genuine one. Arthur felt his heart skip more than one beat, and he was sure Tyrian felt it too. Soon enough Tyrians soft laughter bubbled out of his mouth.

"What's so funny?" Arthur asked, his usual scoff lightened just a touch.

"Well the fact that we literally waltzed into love." Arthur's eyes rolled.

"That was cheesy." He huffed as he set his head on Tyrians shoulder.

"No, parmesan is cheesy." Arthur sighed. The moment was ruined by the man who created it. And he could not help the small smile that was hidden by his mustache. Maybe tonight was worth the party.

[byzantyne]

say something, i'm giving up on you

aka 10% smut sandwiched between 90% angst (im sorry)

-

They don't start off on the right foot.

"Hey, Bakasugi, when is your serial killer stalker gonna stop following us around?"

"Watch it, buddy, I'll cut your balls off before you can squeal, Shinsuke-sama, save me --"

" -- You bitch, I would never say something as pathetic as that -- "

" -- Gintoki, she's my fiancee."

"Oh. ...Oh, is that how it is."

"Yes, that's how it is."

-

Takasugi isn't an altogether unappealing guy. His looks aren't unlike those of a Sour Patch Kid -- at first, his face is rather sour, even annoying, but the more you look at it, depending on certain angles, it can be sweet. The slope of his nose is perfectly chiseled, for instance. And his eyes are gorgeously dark, like a black hole, like someone had dipped a corner of rice paper in a vat of ink and let it bleed. His hands are lithe and attractive when playing the piano.

And then, you don't have to look at him at certain angles to find him attractive anymore.

-

It's a calm day, so they spend it together splitting Mickey D's at the food court. ("You two argue so much," Zura says, shaking his head. "I never understand why you end up spending so much time together." For a guy who prides order above all else, it must be a pressing concern. But Gin and Takasugi thrive off the vulnerability of chaos. Feed off of it, even.) Gin licks a stripe of ketchup off his fingers. Takasugi smokes a cigarette languidly, and Gin finds himself watching the way Shinsuke's mouth makes O's around circles of smoke.

"Pretty sure we're sitting in the smoke-free zone of the mall, dipshit," he informs his friend, equanimous, couldn't care less.

Takasugi slants his eyes towards Gin. "Are you done eating my fries, freeloader?"

"Hey, it ain't my fault the video store pays a shit salary. And we're splitting, you ass."

He eyes the two boxes of fries, one empty, the other Gin currently had his greasy fingers around, on Gin's tray, and neither on his. "If 'splitting' in your dictionary means 'being a greedy bitch.'" He makes a grab for the box in Gin's hand. "Give me one, you bastard."

"Hey!" Gin whisks it away, arm high in air, sending half of the fries flying. "Sneaky fucker. Hey," he says again, leaning in, grinning. "I'll make you a deal. A fry for a smoke."

"That easy, Sakata?" He reaches into his pocket, and pulls out a cigarette, dangling it between his thin fingers. "Here."

"No, I'm not that easy, stupid." (Takasugi isn't liking the grin on his face.) "A fry if you shotgun it to me."

"Pfft." Smoke billows out from between his teeth. "Just one fry? I'm not a cheap whore, Gintoki."

"You look pretty cheap to me, asshole."

Takasugi sends another long drag through his lungs and Gin is thinking of giving up, joke or not, when the boy murmurs, "I shotgun it, and I get what's left. Whatever's not on the floor, that is."

"Wha --", when Takasugi leans across the table, pulls Gin's chin forward, and tugs Gin's lower lip open with his thumb. The delivery is quick -- Takasugi funnels his lips in a small "o," blows a steady stream of smoke into Gin's mouth, and then leans back again, crossing his arms. Gin breathes in and tastes hot ash on every square inch of his lungs, still stunned.

They hadn't broken eye contact the entire time.

There's a clearing of a throat (Takasugi), and an awkward cough of recycled smoke (Gin), before Takasugi reaches forward and grabs the box from Gin's now-lax hand. "Five left," he says, peering in and jiggling the remaining fries around. "What a waste, spending money on you, I swear to God."

He's trying to act so cool, but Gin recognizes the slight crawl of blushing pink on Takasugi's downturned cheeks.

-

"Gintoki." "Gintoki."

Someone is shaking him gently awake.

Without opening his eyes, he rolls onto his other side and mumbles, "Five more minutes, Zura."

The boy in question frowns, crosses his arms. "It's not Zura, it's Katsura. And It's 4PM, Gintoki. Your laziness is starting to astound me. Maybe we should take you to a doctor? There's a possibility it's a disease."

"You're a disease," comes muffled from under the covers, and frowning, Zura yanks them violently off. Gin gives one undignified yelp before Zura gasps himself.

"Gintoki...your eyes..."

Gin is only 90% certain that Zura is pointing in horror at the bags under his eyes. The other 10% is reserved for the assertion that Zura is hallucinating a strange, mutated alien crawling out of Gin's eye sockets right now.

"I couldn't get a wink of sleep last night, alright," he says, pulling the blankets back over his head. "Leave me alone, okay."

-

Gin can't pay attention during class.

(It's Takasugi's fault, that sonuvabitch, all that damn bastard's fault -- )

"Sakata-kun!" He jumps in his chair at the sound of his name. "Start reading from where Okita-kun left off."

He looks down at his Soseki text, a spaghetti dish of jumbled tongues. "Sensei, Okita-kun's haughty tone was pissing me off. I couldn't possibly pay attention to what he was actually reading."

The class erupts in a rumble of laughter -- not at Okita, no, at Gin, who is notorious for slacking off and coming up with the lamest excuses. He rolls his eyes and stares out the window. The teacher snaps something like, "Next time, pay more attention, Sakata-kun!" and assigns him an extra essay which he certainly won't write.

After school, Gin drives Takasugi home on his scooter. They both live a fair distance away from school, and the scooter is an old dinosaur, coughing up smoke and sputtering at the worst instances, and which Gintoki always has to kick once or twice in order to start up. Still, no matter how much he complains, Takasugi always hitches a ride with Gin anyway, and wraps his pale, thin arms around the small of Gin's waist.

This afternoon, it just happens to be very distracting.

They stop at a convenience store because Gin complains of hunger and Takasugi wants a pack of smokes. Languidly, Gin leans against a shelf of potato chips and watches Takasugi furrow his eyebrows at the selection of cigarette brands.

"Piece of shit konbini sells pieces of shit, what a surprise," the boy mutters from under his breath. Gin raises an eyebrow.

"What does it matter?" Gin says around a mouthful of strawberry-flavored KitKat. "They all taste the same anyway."

"You stupid fuck, they do not all taste the same. You would know if you actually -- "

Then stops, and closes his mouth abruptly.

Gintoki swallows. "Hey," he says, "take it easy."

Takasugi throws him a glare. "I pity the easy-going fool."

Gin murmurs, "You are so fucking difficult, sometimes, I swear to God."

"What about you, huh?" Takasugi rounds on him, pulling Gin's shirt collar. "Sometimes you disgust me, Gintoki. With your laziness and unambitiousness and the way you don't understand things -- "

"Understand what, huh?" Now it's Gin tugging on Takasugi's collar with his fist. "Understand what, huh?"

He expects Takasugi to shoot something back, like simple arithmetic, or how to work an AC, but instead, Takasugi falls silent, with a vaguely horrified look in his eyes. The sales clerk stumbles towards them, waving his arms. "Hey!" he shouts, essaying authoritatively while looking terrified, "if you're gonna fight, do it outside!"

Gin sighs and slings his arm around Takasugi, dragging him along. "C'mon, idiot," he grumbles, and is surprised when Takasugi doesn't struggle. When they get outside, Gin pushes him against a wall, barring escape with his arms.

"Get off me -- "

"No fucking way," Gin says between his teeth. "Not until you tell me what you meant when you said I don't understand."

Takasugi is breathing hard. Gin finds his fingers inevitably tangled in Takasugi's hair, and, for the first time, is enjoying his advantage in height over Takasugi in an entirely new way.

There's a brief exchange of shared breaths, until Takasugi blurts out, "I have a fiancee."

"Is that what this is about," Gin says, leaning back. His muscles relax, his face scrunches. "You fucking tease. What was yesterday, then?"

"I don't fucking know." Takasugi presses the heel of his hand against his eye. "A lapse in judgment, probably. Most likely."

Gin gently pries his hand away from his face. "Well, you can't argue this ain't mutual." He takes a step closer. Takasugi's eyes widen.

"What are you doing."

Gin strokes the shell of Takasugi's ear, traces skin all the way down to his bobbing Adam's apple, until the boy starts to shiver at his touch. At certain angles, Takasugi Shinsuke is a fascinating study in vulnerability and defensiveness, all at once. At any angle, Gin feels a compulsion to press his fingerprints into his ribs, leave his marks and presence there like a tracking hound.

"Just this once," he murmurs, "please."

Underneath him, Takasugi eases. "...Just this once."

-

This is not a romance, or else it wouldn't have started with awkward handjobs in the sketchy back washrooms of gas stations. The first time Gintoki is sucking Takasugi's neck like a vacuum, hand wrapped around cock.

Takasugi pushes him away. "You're going too fast," he grumbles. "What are you trying to do, start a chainsaw?"

"Shut up," Gin growls, "it'd be easier to get a chainsaw hard, you fucking limpdick," which is how they end up with more bruises that night than erections.

(But later, when Gin is applying ointment to the blossoming blue patch on Takasugi's forehead, his hands are still gentle.)

-

Just this once, they said.

Yeah, okay.

-

Matako and her threats of castration, unfortunately, are becoming a constant presence in Gin's life.

"So," Gin says, leaning against the railing circling the roof, "explain to me the circumstances of your engagement again."

Takasugi rolls his eyes. "There's not much to explain, Gintoki. I've already told you numerous times, if only you'd listen -- it's an arranged marriage. When I turn twenty-two, I'll marry her."

"Yeah, but." Gin scratches the back of her head. "Did she hold your father at gunpoint? Did he get brainwashed by one of those weird aliens Sakamoto keeps talking about? I don't get it. We're only like, eighteen. Aren't arranged marriages out of style these days, anyway?"

"Don't be such an empty-headed priss," he snaps. "It's not about out of style or not. It's just the way things are done."

Gin blinks rapidly. "Takasugi..."

He stubs his cigarette out on the railing. "We're done talking about this," he says, and then walks away.

-

It happens, of course, when they're watching some pay-per-view on the television and Gin keeps complaining about how drafty it is in Takasugi's room, which is how Gin ends up with a blanket wrapped up around his entire body like a burrito.

"Do you think we spend too much time together?" Takasugi suddenly says, right when some Spartan warrior is jump-striking some Persian with a spear.

"Hm?" Gin scratches his cheek absently. "Have you been talking to Zura again? I told him, it's just friendly banter."

They watch an impressive decapitation, CGI blood spraying fantastically across the scene. "No, Kijima said so."

He scoffs. "Since when are you and that bitch on first name basis?"

Takasugi glares at him. "Don't call her that."

"Okay, jesus." Gin sighs, leaning back against the couch. "You shouldn't let her boss you around, anyway. What's it been, a month since you met?"

"She doesn't." Takasugi chews on his lower lip. "I was the one who brought it up, Gin."

"Oh." He lets the blanket fall from around his shoulders. "Um."

Takasugi watches the fleece descend to his arms, but does nothing to move it back. "And of course, you're simple-minded enough to think this arrangement will somehow work out."

"What do you mean?" Gin sighs, scratching the back of his head. "It's not like we're -- " god forbid " -- dating."

Takasugi gives him a wilting look. "You understand nothing, do you."

"Again with this understanding and not understanding thing. What, is it actually code for, I wanna jump your bones, Gintoki? Jeez, you can really be a pain in the ass sometimes." He scrunches his nose when he remembers what they did just last Saturday. "Literally."

"Stop that," he groans. Gin thinks he's talking about the bad jokes, but then Takasugi murmurs, "I can't be the only one who has thought about touching again," and Gin tackles him so hard it knocks them both to the ground. (Somewhere in the background, a Spartan falls.)

"Shinsuke," he says, voice feral, "I've been waiting for you to say please."

-

This is not a romance. This is not how Meg Ryan and Patrick Swayze fall in love. This is backs thrown against walls, zipper teeth chafing, real teeth drawing blood when every impatient kiss is more like a punch to the face. Takasugi already has his hands under the waistband of Gin's boxers, and Gintoki already has his bottom lip sucked between his teeth, like this: "f-f-f-f-f -- " trying hard not to plead the word fighting its way past his lips.

"You're already hard," Takasugi murmurs, bending at the knees and pulling Gin's cock out from his Superman drawers. His breath is moist against skin, and Gin's fingers dig into the wall behind him.

"Fuck you," he manages to spit out, instead of "fuck me," and Takasugi irritatingly catches on.

"I fully intend for you to," he says, before closing his mouth around the head, and unraveling the growls from the base of Gin's throat.

-

something something haha

-

"My father expects impossible things from me..." he murmurs.

If this were a Nicholas Sparks novel, Gin would:

a) tell him, "you look beautiful when you cry."

b) kiss his tears away.

c) hold him tight, hold him close, until the sunlight died and a moon was reborn.

But it isn't. But this is Gin, wanting at once to push him away and pull him close, so he struggles: "Do you want to talk to Zura? I -- I can go find him for you..."

Takasugi glances at him with such undisguised misery that Gin wants to throw up. Tell me what a dick I am. Do it. Throw a fit and sock me in the face.

But Takasugi just says, "Sure."

Gin nods.

He turns the corner.

He doesn't want to think about how it is raining today.

-

This is not a romance, because Takasugi is not waking up in Gintoki's bed in the mornings, and Gin is not bringing him breakfast in bed. Gin is watching his pale, thin legs walk away for the nth time in the shine of the moonlight, and he wants to grab them, halt their motion.

He wants to say, Come back to bed, baby, like some smooth motherfucker, like a lovestruck mooner.

But he is cursed, like Cassandra, except instead of unfailingly predicting the future, the things he sees in his head will resolutely not come true.

-

This is not a romance, but --

he turns back round the corner, sprinting, tripping over his shoelaces, and does the following things in the following order:

a) tells Takasugi, "You look beautiful when you cry."

b) kisses his tears away.

c) and holds him tight, holds him close, like he's afraid the boy might disintegrate in his arms right them and there.

Takasugi chokes out, breathlessly, "Gintoki, you know we can't be together."

He laughs. "Listen to yourself. I bet you never thought you'd say something so stupidly heart-breaking, like some dumb chick flick." His fingers curl, around shirt, around hair, around -- Shinsuke. "I'm not stupid. I know things won't work out. But I can't erase these feelings. I don't want to stop myself from doing the things I want to do. I want to say the things I want to say to you, because I want you to hear them."

"Gintoki," Takasugi is cursing, "you stupid fuck, you stupid, stupid, stupid bastard," cursing his name until his lips run dry and his throat has no more words.

Gin lets his grip slacken slightly.

I know.