Mayhem

Mayhem

"Genos..."

"Yes Sen-" A piece of soap came soaring in a wide arc to smack the young cyborg full on the face, stunning him into silence for a second. It fell into his hand, now imprinted with the vague definition of his features as a scream ran out from inside the locker room.

He frowned upon closer inspection; was that a bite mark embedded deep on the surface of the disfigured soap?

"Genos. Look," Saitama pointed calmly behind him in the doorway, his oval face boasting the same unreadable expression as always, a complete contrast to the chaos unfolding before them.

God was dead, and so were any of their remaining brain cells.

They, as in Metal Bat and Garou, were in the process of bashing each other's brains out in front of the hot tub with nothing but small towels wrapped around their waists, while a scantily clad Mumen Rider tried unsuccessfully to hold them apart. Bang and Atomic Samurai sat impassively in the tub behind them, occasionally commenting on their moves and acting as if nothing was wrong with two extremely buff and hot-headed boys trying their damn hardest to throttle each other. And was a baseball bat even allowed inside a locker room?

"Sensei, should we do something?" Genos asked with a glance at the bald hero.

"Nah, let's just find a place to sit before they burn down the building."

And part of him almost wished they did when Puri Puri Prisoner suddenly strutted in front of them buck-ass nude, heading with questionable intentions straight for Zombieman who was just trying to wash his hair on the bench.

"Hey! Cut it out you idiots! No one wants to deal with you two so just get out!" Another familiar voice rang out above all the noise as Amai Mask stomped over to the teenage brawlers, who were now completely naked and bloody. Neither pair seemed to realize that their towels had long been discarded, and Metal Bat was bleeding heavily from the face while Garou sported a few dark-colored bruises. Metal Bat swung once Amai Mask was within range, spitting out a few colorful curses that would put any sailor to shame as he missed by a hair.

The battle escalated, now a three-way fight as Mumen Rider lay passed out a few feet away, caught in the earlier crossfire. The poor guy would need new glasses once again.

"Here should be a good spot," Saitama said, pointing at a few unoccupied benches further away. It wasn't until a solid ten minutes that he sensed something was off, as if someone was watching him. Turning to the left, he was met with the blank gaze of a man in a furry white suit perched on top of the tiled wall, Watchdog Man.

How long has this guy been watching me?

He gazed back but Watchdog Man refused to look away. Maybe he was in an odd coma or something.

Okay...

"Sensei what's wrong?" Genos asked, as if sensing his discomfort.

"It's nothing I-" He was interrupted by a war cry as a ninja star suddenly lodged itself in the wall in front of him.

"Saitama! I've tracked you all the way here, now come fight me!" Sonic howled, not even waiting for a reply as he leapt towards him fully clothed from the entrance.

At least this one has clothes on, Saitama sighed.

"I'll take care of this Sensei!" Genos zoomed past him, incinerator glowing orange.

"No wait Genos! Don't use your cannons-"

BOOM!

The outer layer of the wall on the opposite side crumbled, leaving charred concrete behind as Sonic bounced around the open area.

"Ah, too late. Well, hopefully he has enough to pay for the repairs."

"Ah shit! You'll pay for that!" Flashy Flash roared as Sonic and Genos barreled into him and knocked him into a bucket of soapy water.

"Wait Flashy Flash!" Child Emperor pleaded, immediately chasing after them with the help of mechanical spider legs that sprouted from his backpack. The bathhouse really needed to upgrade their security. The three of them were now a dizzy blur dancing around the locker room.

Zombieman was sent flying into the wall as they rammed into him blindly, the back of his head hitting the wall with a sickening crack.

"Sorry!"

"Oh my God you killed him!" Puri Puri Prisoner sobbed in anguish, sprinting after him in all his naked glory.

Truth be told, to Zombieman the brief respite that death offered was far better than the awkward conversation he had been having with the ex-convict after the shittiest pick-up line he had ever heard in his entire immortal life.

"Have you ever been arrested?" Puri Puri Prisoner purred, fluttering his eyelashes at the pale man.

Zombieman furrowed his brows, replying with a very confused and hesitant "No?"

"Why do you ask?" He continued, nearly shuddering at the way the tall hero was eyeing his exposed chest.

"Because it must be illegal to look that good," Puri Puri Prisoner finished, and Zombieman could swear that the world was out to get him.

"Uh thanks," he muttered awkwardly. Never in his life would he have thought he would have be hit on by a criminal hero in the middle of a locker room full of out-of-control men acting like it was the goddamn apocalypse.

Yeah, death sounded good right about now. He would take every precious second enjoying the darkness before he healed and was dragged back into that living nightmare. Perhaps it was time to invest in some therapy.

"Garou, my boy, did you forget every technique I taught you? You're holding your hand wrong. You need to strike with your palm at an angle," Bang corrected as Metal Bat dodged his attack.

"Shut up old man! I wasn't trying to use your stupid technique anyways!" Garou snarled, springing forward again.

"Hey whose side are ya on anyways?"

"Sorry Metal Bat, old men like myself just can't help it," Bang grinned sheepishly.

"You dare turn your back on me?" Amai Mask punched him in the ribs with his momentary distraction, only enraging the seventeen-year-old more.

"I'll rip yer fucking head off you prick!"

"I don't think I ever want to come here again," Saitama said calmly as he watched a fire break out in the wet bathhouse.

A ninja star exploded behind him as Puri Puri Prisoner strutted past his vision. 

Friday the 13th Oneshots: Michael x Jason

Chapter 2: Halloween Headache

It was almost that time of the year again, Jason thought as he eyeballed the calendar on the table. He had never cared about holidays until he came along.

Right on cue, Michael trudged in from the back door, dragging mud all over his freshly mopped floors. Jason let out a huff, gesturing angrily at his partner who barely spared him a second glance. Michael was always 'moody', especially around Halloween. Jason wasn't exactly sure why the holiday had such an effect on the Haddonfield slasher, and Michael himself wasn't certain why either. But neither of them cared enough to stew over it.

His mood swings got worse around that fateful day, and Jason had to constantly watch his back to make sure the smaller man wouldn't jump him with a knife to the shoulder or rip off his clothes. Personally, he preferred the latter. But this year, he had a peace offering. Jason smiled giddily under the mask, feeling the weight of the candy hidden beneath his old, bulging jacket.

He knew Michael had a massive sweet tooth, despite his efforts to conceal it. Any desserts that Jason made or stole would immediately disappear before he even had a chance to taste it. Personally, Jason didn't care much for sweets, so it made no difference to him if Michael decided to hog it all. Unfortunately, most trespassers knew better than to carry aromatic foods into the forest, lest they wanted to attract unwanted attention from bears or worse.

Clearly, the hikers yesterday were not so smart, bringing an entire bag of candy into the woods to stuff their faces. Jason had found and dispatched them in an instant, claiming his prize and doing his best to hide it from his lover. Luckily, Michael didn't seem to suspect anything, too caught up on his yearly Halloween bloodlust to pay much attention to Jason.

Jason grinned, sneaking over to their shared bedroom where Michael was already hard at work staring out of the window. Michael didn't react to Jason's heavy footsteps, and it wasn't until he heard the unfamiliar sound of crinkling plastic did he finally turn around.

Jason pulled the bag out of his jacket, showing it off proudly to Michael. Hidden by the pale, white mask, Michael's eyes widened in shock. How long has it been? Over a decade at least since he's last tasted Halloween candy. It was the night he'd killed his sister, Judith. The food at Smith's Grove was bland and repetitive, and there was never the luxury of anything sweet or even food that tasted remotely edible.

But Jason didn't know that. If he had, he probably wouldn't have presented Michael with the whole bag at once. It seemed to trigger something in the Boogeyman; Jason had never seen him move so fast.

Michael lunged, startling a surprised grunt out of the normally mute killer, grabbing the bag and speeding out of the room. A door slammed in the distance, the distinct click of a lock loud in the empty house. Jason stood rooted at the spot, frozen in confusion for a few seconds before a thought hit him.

Was he going to eat the whole bag at once?

Even Michael wouldn't be able to stomach that much candy at once, he was going to get a massive stomachache, Jason worried.

Quickly, he found Michael in the spare room, but the door was locked. The sound of movement slipped through the cracks at the bottom, and Jason pounded a heavy fist against it. Something was thrown against the wall in a clear indication of 'go away'.

Jason exhaled loudly, knocking again, only to be ignored. Michael wouldn't budge, he was too busy tearing into the bag, damn the consequences! No way would he let Jason take it away.

After about ten minutes of fruitless knocking, Jason finally gave up, sliding against the wall as he sat down next to the door.

Eventually, Jason dozed off, leaving Michael to scarf down the candy in peace. It must have been hours later until Jason awakened. The sky was dark, blanketing the small cabin in a soothing darkness. It was quiet, too quiet. Jason perked up, ears straining for any sound behind the locked door.

A soft groan caught his attention and he immediately broke the lock on the door, resigning himself to fix it later. Jason burst through, halting as he saw the figure of his unmasked lover curled up on the sheets, candy wrappers strewn on the floor and bed. There were still a few pieces left, but the rest of it was gone. A loud gurgle echoed through the room, coming from Michael's stomach, Jason realized.

Shakily, Michael reached for a wrapped chocolate and Jason had to hold back from face-palming as he watched. He grabbed Michael's wrist, pulling him away from the candy.

Michael shot him a venomous glare, growling loudly and jerking weakly in his grasp. Jason tilted his head, narrowing his eyes at the smaller male as if saying, "Really?"

Even with a stomachache he was still trying to eat. He moved the candy away from him, sending Michael into a thrashing fit. A knee was suddenly thrust into Jason's ribs, briefly winding him enough for Michael to break free and make a wild dive for the candy.

Lunging forward, Jason grabbed his ankle and pulled him back, promptly collapsing him onto his stomach and locking his arms around his chest.

Michael let out a grunt as all of the air was expelled from his lungs, the sound muffled by the duvet pressing into his face.

He went deathly still for a moment and promptly threw up all over the bed and rug, letting out a few raspy coughs as he finally finished expelling all the colorful fluids. Jason could do nothing except gently pat his back through the violent heaving, hoping that it wouldn't stain the already deteriorating floors.

It reminded him of that year when he caught his counselors watching The Exorcist, and back then he had covered his eyes as the girl projectile vomited everywhere on screen. Except this time he had a front-row seat.

This Halloween was certainly shaping up to be an unusual one, Jason thought as he moved Michael's head away from the puddle of foul-smelling, partially digested candy on the corner of the bed. It seemed like all the fight had fled from him along with the contents of his stomach.

He tried scooping Michael up to take him to the showers but being a stubborn bastard he refused, pushing Jason away and rolling onto his side with an irritated growl.

He fell asleep almost immediately, and Jason didn't have the heart to wake him. A small smile worked its way onto his face as he watched the rhythmic rising and falling of Michael's chest, dark lashes fluttering lightly every now and then. Carefully, Jason lowered himself next to his sleeping lover, heart swelling with unbridled affection. Slowly, he too was lulled to sleep, dreaming about sharp blue eyes and dark brown hair.

Michael may be a shithead, especially around Halloween, but he was Jason's shithead, and no one would be able to take him away from him.

Do you take requests? If so, where should I ask for them? Through asks or messages?

I can but since school is starting soon, it will probably take a while. You can send me a direct message!

Goku Black x Reader: Forbidden Fruit (Chapter 19: Even Nightmares Dream)

A chilling laugh reached his ears, jolting him from the peaceful silence. When he opened his eyes, the room had disappeared, leaving him floating in nothing but a swirl of deep purple and black. Swiveling his head, Black called to you, listening to his voice as it echoed through the void of emptiness. A sudden, deep laugh from the darkness reached his eardrums, making the hair stand up on the back of his neck.  

Where the Hell was he? And who was that?

With a whoosh of air before his eyes, a patch of darkness began to twist and change, taking the thin form of a familiar Kai.

“My my Black, look at how you’ve devolved,” Zamasu cackled at the look on his partner’s face.

“What do you want?” Black hissed, clenching his fist.

“Is that really how you talk to your friend?”

“You’re not my friend!”

“Of course not. I am you,” Zamasu shot towards him, stopping a mere two inches away from his face, but the Saiyan refused to back down.

“And your point is? My patience is running thin.” Black was anxious to get back to you, but he was careful not to reveal anything on his face. He knew Zamasu would pounce on any and every opportunity he saw, like a true predator.

“Have you forgotten about our plan? Are you going to throw away all of this for a mere human?” Zamasu spat the word “human” like it was something bitter, his face contorting in an instant to reveal his distaste.

“She’s immortal!”

“Is that your pitiful excuse for keeping that disgusting thing around? Or have those ungodly lustful desires of a mortal body final taken over your mind?”

That was the last straw. Black rushed towards him, plunging his fist into his midsection only to find that the murderous Kai had disappeared into streaks of black smoke, formulating a couple meters away from where he was. He appeared completely unharmed.

“You can’t touch me in your dreams,” Zamasu remarked coldly, looking completely unconcerned.

Black let out a rumbling snarl, a vein pulsing in his neck as he struggled not to lose his temper again. Losing control would be no better than outright admitting his defeat. “So then what the Hell are you doing here?”

“Oh nothing much,” Zamasu drawled, folding his arms behind his back. “Just to remind you that I’m still here, and as long as I am, I’m not going to just forget about your precious pet.”

“Y/n none of your concern. You can stay in that stupid cage and rot for all of eternity, see if I care. I can carry out the Zero Mortal Plan with or without you, it makes no difference with me.”

“Oh really?” Zamasu almost purred, making Black want to gag. “What about those apes from the future, hmm? How do you plan on erasing them without my help?”

“I think I’ll manage, thanks.” He rebutted, aura pulsating pink. Another vein popped out of his neck and he struggled desperately to tame his fury.

“Hm sure,” the white-haired God taunted, suddenly teleporting to stand in front of his partner, noses merely two inches apart. Black could almost imagine the warm breath of his former ally dusting his face, but of course, they were both just illusions. The smug grin was wiped off Zamasu’s face in an instant as his temper changed without warning.

“You can’t protect her forever, you know.” Even though Black himself had a tendency to switch from one mood to another in a split second, it was still unnerving to see it on Zamasu. Perhaps it was because of how similar it seemed to himself.

“That too is none of your concern,” Black floated backwards a few inches, eager to put some distance between them.

“COWARD!” Zamasu spat startling him, though he managed to keep his expression the same neutral stare. “You would ruin the entire plan for one goddamn human! After everything we’ve worked for, all the blood it took, you would throw it all away?!”

“She’s basically a God!”

“She’s basically a God!” Zamasu viciously threw his words back in his face and this time Black really did lose control. Letting out an enraged roar, his hair shot up immediately and flared a magnificent pink, a furious aura surrounded him like a massive halo. Like the grim reaper of justice that he was. Locking onto his target, he charged, only to find the same result as his previous attempt, delighting Zamasu and sending Black into an even worse frenzy.

Nearly blind with rage, he let out a volley of energy blasts which promptly disappeared into the hazy distance much to his displeasure. Zamasu however, disappeared a millimeter before one was due to collide with his chest, which wouldn’t have done much anyways in a world of dreams.

Black was left confused and angrier than ever as he howled insults into the void, completely losing any semblance of self-control. After being forced to lose you for so long, ditching his own partner, and forming a shaky alliance with Trunks, he was long overdue for a break and now this? If only you could see him now. Good God, he was losing it.

His heart thundered voluminously in his chest as he turned left and right searching for the fiend who had seemingly disappeared into thin air.

“I could make that repulsive little bitch pay, Black. I can tear her limb from limb and trap her in a Hell that even you wouldn’t be able to rescue her from. Oh, the possibilities are endless.” It seemed to be coming from all directions and even the powerful Saiyan couldn’t discern exactly where it was emanating from. “Or….” The voice paused thoughtfully. “I could make her my pet.”

Black gnashed his teeth so hard it was a miracle they didn’t chip, but the voice didn’t seem to be bothered at all and continued to harass him.

“But I really have no use for treacherous little leeches who would betray her own kind for some fool in a stolen body. You can’t save her, not forever. The universe always finds a way, and when it does, you’ll be left with naught.”

“Come out you coward!” Black’s voice echoed through space, receiving no call. I’ll rip that bastard to pieces!

“Oh Black,” A voice suddenly appeared next to his ear, though he felt no breath. “Look at what that human has done to you. You’re practically one of them. A blind, useless, lovestruck mortal who can’t see past his own desire. So let me enlighten you.”

Before Black could swing his arm back, something flitted to life in front of him. Something eerily familiar. The spiky hair, sharp jawline, crazed onyx eyes…..it was almost like he was looking into a mirror.

No, not exactly. It was too solid to be a mere reflection, though as he hesitantly reached out a hand to touch it, his fingers passed through the figure’s chest, much like when he had tried to hit Zamasu. Black wasn’t even sure if it was him at first. He looked so…what was the word, vulnerable?

Sweat dripped down his face and matted his hair to his forehead, clothes all disheveled and out of place, and his eyes……that was the worst. A mingle of anger and fear, for both you and himself. Part of him knew that what Zamasu was saying was true, that he had perhaps grown soft, letting down his guard enough to allow you inside his heart. When you first met, he followed you out of sheer curiosity and boredom, but over time it had grown to something much more, something he never would have thought he would be capable of feeling. And as a result, he had barely killed anybody since you wandered into his life, and definitely not as much as he used to.

Fuck, I really am losing my touch.

But no matter how much he despised you at that moment, and no matter how much he chastised himself, he couldn’t bear to give you up. To Zamasu, Trunks, to no one but him. He was the one and only God who would ever be able to touch you, and to worship you in ways you never thought possible.

His dark eyes widened in shock. That was it! A God!

“Zamasu,” He suddenly addressed his ex-partner, who merely narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “I think I have a compromise.”

Goku Black x Reader: Forbidden Fruit (Chapter 17: Red Lights)

It was the smell of smoke that woke you up first. Then the frantic chittering and trampling of undergrowth as various animals rushed passed your tree, squirrels, deer, and even wolves. They all ran towards the same direction, away from North, where you were originally headed. You were so confused by the sight that you failed to notice the red claws drawing nearer and nearer, rapidly consuming everything in its path.

It was only until you realized that they were running from something that you finally turned your head, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. Then it hit you. There had been no rain during your slumber, there was only the sound of thunder and the crackling of lighting. Of course. It hadn’t been a rainstorm. It had been an electrical storm. And you were in a forest, surrounded by tall trees. Shit.

Everything was on fire.

The flames licked at the treetops, quickly approaching your hideout.

Oh fuck! You leaped out of the branches, hitting the ground hard and sprinting away immediately, not wasting a single second. There was no time to contact Black, and even if you could, there was no way you would be able to concentrate on escaping the fire and talking to him at the same time. As if it couldn’t get any worse, a bolt of electricity split the tree not too far from you, and it burst aflame. You could feel some of the aftershock coursing through your body, but it passed eventually.

Focusing blurrily on the shapes running past you, you followed in their footsteps, hoping one of those massive canines wouldn’t become hungry.

A large force suddenly shoved you off your feet, causing you to crack your forehead against a boulder jutting from the green grass. Well, it wouldn’t be green for much longer. The air seemed to dim around you, and everything began to swirl and blend together. The smoke invaded your nose and crept through your lungs, where it nestled like a dark gray cat, mauling and biting at your insides.

Ignoring the pounding in your head and your fading vision, you grasped onto the trunk of a tree and tried to force yourself into a standing position, a hand clasped firmly over your gasping mouth.

Well, you had never been burned to death before, but you weren’t exactly eager to experience it firsthand. It seemed as if all the forces of nature were after you, first drowning, now burning. What was next, a goddamn tornado?!

When will I ever catch a break?! You thought irritably as a mouse jumped over your shoes.

Even after about two days of rest, your body was still recovering from your escape from the underground prison on the beach, and the lightning strike definitely didn’t help.

Oh Black, where are you?

That’s when you caught the sound of splintering trees followed by a deep bellow. You turned your head to be met with a massive elk, barreling through the fiery vegetation towards you, giving you a crazy idea. Stepping to the side to avoid being trampled, you waited until the colossal creature had galloped next to you before jumping and looping your arms around its neck, and holding on until it ran past another tree and pushing yourself off the trunk and onto the elk’s back.

It let out a snort but didn’t seem to be particularly interested in bucking you off, too busy trying to outrun death. Hopefully, it wouldn’t end up electrocuted, but it was the only plan you could come up with on the spot.

“Black!” You hollered as you bounced on the elk, trying to keep your head from spinning and throwing you off. “Black!”

It leaped clumsily over a fallen log and you were nearly sent flying, clutching onto its rough, thick fur for dear life.

Can’t I have one fucking day of peace?! You lamented silently. Life was constantly throwing curveballs at you as of late, more than the past decade combined; first, you had been trapped in that godforsaken torture cave, then the entire forest decided to set itself on fire, and then you got electrocuted and your getaway rested on a weakening elk that was beginning to stumble and huff.

If you had been able to fully recover all your energy, you would have been able to signal to Black with your chi, but you were still too weak.

Every time you turned your head, the fire crept closer and closer, until you were barely outrunning it by more than a couple meters. No matter how much you tried to spur on your ride, it had inhaled to much smoke just like you and it was wobbling badly on its spindly legs. The poor thing looked like it was about to pass out any minute, and then you’d both be goners. Trees began to fall as the fire consumed them, and the smoke was so thick you could barely see. Most of the animals seemed to have evacuated, though every now and then you would see a small critter or so lying dead, caught by the gaping maws of death.

A weak squeal suddenly caught your attention, coming from a bit farther up ahead and to your right. As you approached, you realized that it was a brown boar, a juvenile by the looks of it. Its hooves scratched at the dirt as it tried to free its foot from a hole underneath a twisted root, the noises getting softer and softer by the second, before it mournfully put its head down to accept its demise.

You looked down at the wheezing elk, white foam crusting its lips and water glazing its wide, frightened eyes. Your brows furrowed before giving its neck a quick pat, steeling yourself to jump off. It would be able to flee faster without your weight, and there was no point in you both dying. And perhaps you would be able to save the boar. You, out of everyone understood the fear of death, and there wasn’t any end much worse than burning to a crisp, alone and terrified.

Well, it’s always a good time to try something new, you managed to scoff dryly at your own joke. It’s not like I can die anyways.

Sprinting to the trapped animal, you began to furiously dig around its hoof, and it began its struggles began anew as the boar came to realize that it still had a chance at surviving. You ripped at the hard roots that curled around its leg, gritting your teeth against the pain as your flesh tore at the force. If you had been at full health you could have snapped them like ropes, but alas, there was no use wishing for something that wasn’t there. Next time you saw Zamasu, you’d shove his balls down his throat and then watch him choke on it.

“Just a little more,” You puffed, sweat dripping down your face. Your lungs were in agony, and your eyes felt just as bad. Everything hurt like Hell, but there was nothing you could do about it.

The first fingers of the flames began to lap at your sleeve, causing the boar to get even more hysterical and continue to fling dirt back at an accelerated pace.

Finally, you were able to wriggle its foot free and it sped off, leaving you covered in ashes and grime. Crawling away from the approaching flames, you didn’t even get a chance to catch your breath before pulling yourself to your feet and staggering away from a horrible roasting. Mind reeling, you could barely see over the torrent of tears the fire forced out of your eyes.

You were so focused on limping away that you didn’t notice the loud groan of a blackened tree, falling towards you. By the time you were able to realize something was wrong, it was too late.

It fell with a thud onto your back, completely crushing your legs and back under its weight. You didn’t even have the energy to scream anymore, the heat and smog had made you nearly delirious. The dead tree had paralyzed everything below your lower back, so at least there was no pain.

It almost felt nice not to feel anything anymore, though through your closing eyes everything was being swallowed by the fire and being painted red or black. How you had come to hate the color red.

Black…..You managed to whisper weakly inside your rapidly failing consciousness. Black….please help….me….Look for…..red lights….

The last thing you saw was the cloudless open night sky as the trees fell around you and two dark shapes began closing in on you, one with familiar black tufts and the other with light blue hair, unable to hear their voices as they cried for you.

Muscle Heads: Ohma x Raian

Chapter 1: Shut up, Raian

“Oi brat, wake up.” A large fist rapped on the Japanese-styled door separating the man and his neighbor; the occupant still fast asleep on the other side. He waited impatiently for a few seconds before knocking again.

“Hey,” Ohma Tokita raised his voice this time, eye twitching slightly as the sound of Kure Raian’s intense snoring somehow increased in volume.

Noisy idiot.

It was the middle of the night, the only light illuminating the room was thin, slivers of silver moonshine slipping through the curtains. The lithe fighter had about all he could take from his neighbor’s incessant snoring, if it could even be called that. It sounded like a motor engine malfunctioning, dying down every now and again only to suddenly start back up. Raian woke him up three times already, three times in the last five hours, and at this point he was on the verge of throttling him in his sleep. 

As expected, Raian wasn’t exactly the quietest roommate, but it wasn’t exactly like he had much of a choice. The main Kure mansion was mostly full, with the only room left at the end of this hallway a joint room next to Raian. Ohma could guess why his room was the only one unoccupied. Raian, the troublemaker that he was, liked to train late at night, meaning midnight or after, and oftentimes Ohma could hear him smashing something at one in the damn morning, a peal of his familiar cackling laugh piercing his peaceful slumber. For the sake of the old man Erioh who let him live there without rent, he grit his teeth and bore with it. And boy was it hard sometimes.

There’s free food here, Ohma reminded himself. Free food and all the strong fighters anyone could wish for. 

The first day he had moved in after his surgery he had found Raian squatting and looming over him at three a.m., staring down at him with a silent, toothy grin on his face right next to his futon. Ohma never thought there would be anyone weirder than Kiryu Setsuna until then, and in a sleepy haze he threw a sloppy punch that Raian easily dodged. And then that fucker proceeded to jump out his window. In his defense, Ohma was still a bit woozy from the medication for his heart and wasn’t expecting Raian of all people to break into his room, otherwise he probably wouldn’t have missed his target. Karla he had expected, which was why he made sure everything was locked down before he went to bed. But somehow Raian had managed to get through the locks without a sound and then proceeded to leer at him like a stalker.

Regardless, Ohma had grown accustomed to his weird habits as he himself was not exactly normal. But these past two days Raian had begun snoring loudly and constantly, and he was at the end of his rope. Or else he wouldn’t be standing in front of the backdoor, freezing in the chilly winter night in nothing but his boxers.

Damn, Ohma growled as Raian let out a particularly loud rumble, opting to just break the lock and deal with him before he was sentenced to another sleepless night. 

The bolt snapped easily under the pressure of his hand, the door creaking softly as he slid it open, revealing Raian spread-eagle on his back in the middle of the room. Somehow the demon Kure had migrated from his bed to the floor during the night without waking up, mouth parted and drooling.

The wool blankets were strewn around him, tangled around his powerful legs and barely covering what Ohma assumed was his naked groin.

Really? During the winter? Ohma sighed.

He let out an irritated huff and padded towards the younger fighter, nearly tripping over multiple items thrown haphazardly on the floor. Nudging him with his foot, Raian just snorted and rolled over to the other side letting out a string of curses under his breath. Several prods later and he was still snoring soundly, and Ohma subtly wondered how he hadn’t been murdered in his sleep yet. The Kures had a lot of enemies, and he was sure Raian had even more than the average clan member.

“Hey wake up,” Ohma stooped down and shook his shoulders hard, finally waking up the resting boulder.

Apparently Raian wasn’t used to being woken up in the middle of the night, immediately lurching forward and pushing Ohma to the ground with a snarl. “What the fuck do you want bitch?”

“For you to stop snoring, moron,” Ohma squeezed the wrists that were holding him down, eye blazing and rearing for a fight.

“Oh yeah?” Raian taunted with a wide smirk on his face, applying more pressure to his grip and drawing out a growl.

Pulling his leg back, Ohma rammed it into Raian’s stomach and threw him across the room, sending slight tremors through the walls of the house from the force of his kick. It was a miracle none of the other Kures were woken by the racket, but then they were probably already used to whatever unholy sounds came from Raian’s room at night.

Barely fazed, said Kure lunged forward and met him halfway, locking hands and wrestling each other to the carpet with an audible crash.

They rolled across the floor, knocking over any furniture in the way and spitting insults that would make any sailor blush. Normally Ohma was relatively immune to threats and curses, but something about Raian made his temper short-circuit sometimes. Perhaps listening to him “snore” that loudly for over a week had done it.

Eventually, Raian was able to get the upper hand on Ohma, hard knees digging into his waist as he rocked his weight back on the other man’s thighs. His body weight kept him pressed down on the ground, though Ohma could have easily broken free. 

But he was feeling generous (tired) today.

Ohma was almost tempted to smack the sneer off his face, but he knew that would just escalate the fight. Honestly he was surprised the whole place hasn’t been demolished-excluding the fist-sized holes in the plaster-and waking up the entire neighborhood wasn’t exactly on his to-do list.

Just bear with it for now, Ohma thought grumpily. I’ll slap the shit outta him in the morning. Just you wait kid.

He had completely forgotten about Raian’s state of undress until he glanced down, suddenly bucking up his hips and trying to push him off. It wasn’t like Ohma cared much about nakedness, but he’d much rather not have a grown man sitting on his dick when he was only in his boxers. Especially not Kure Raian, who was fully naked like the weirdo he was.

“Get off and put some pants on dipshit!”

Raian’s grin grew impossibly wider and he stuck out his tongue, forcing Ohma back down with his ass. “What, does it bother you or something, you perverted fuck?” With a harsh bark of laughter he roughly ground down on Ohma making him hiss.

“Son of a bitch!” Ohma swore noisily and redoubled his efforts to escape, whipping his head back and forth. This was giving him serious flashbacks to Imai Cosmo. Except back then his adversary was thankfully clothed.

“Uncomfortable? Or just excited to see me?” Raian thrust his face close, making Ohma bang his head on the ground with a solid thump to avoid being headbutted.

“Motherfucker,” Ohma grunted and turned his head to the side, too tired to deal with his bullshit anymore. His eyelids felt heavy, he had barely slept the last two days after all, and training over eight hours a day definitely didn’t help.

For a moment the only sound in the room was their panting, and neither men moved. 

“Going to sleep already?” Raian’s breath was hot on his face, so close that Ohma could smell the scent of the udon he had for dinner mingled with a faint trace of sweat and cologne.

Cologne? Since when did Raian wear cologne?

“Back off, your breath stinks,” Ohma groaned and held a hand between them.

“Oh yeah, you fuck? How about a closer whiff?” Raian cackled.

“For fuck’s sake-” The rest of his sentence was abruptly cut short as Raian surged forward to collide their lips together, or at least tried to. A jolt of pain shot through Ohma’s mouth as their teeth clashed, the familiar metallic tang of blood on his tongue.

Raian latched onto his bottom lip with his teeth, biting down hard as Ohma moaned in pain. Grabbing his shoulders, Ohma tried once again to push him off, but Raian had his biceps in a vice grip and neither fighter was budging.

Fine then, if he wanted to play rough then so be it. 

Snarling, Ohma shifted his weight onto one side and rolled Raian under him with all his strength, placing him on top this time. It shocked the Kure enough to let him go-finally, he was about to chew through his lip, and damned if he had to answer questions the next morning.

“You mothefucker! You call that a damn kiss fucking brat?!” Ohma roared, blood spilling from his cut and dripping down his chin, where it splattered in crimson pools all over Raian’s chest.

“What, like you can do better you dumb virgin fuck!” He flung his head forward again, but this time Ohma was one step ahead of him and got there first, trying to force his tongue in his mouth.

The ensuing battle for dominance was nothing short of a gross mess with an excessive amount of spit and blood, but as Kengan fighters it was nothing compared to the battles they’ve experienced. As expected, neither gave an inch, at least not until Raian suddenly grabbed a fistful of his seaweed hair and gave it a vicious tug, strong enough to pull out a clump of dark brown strands.

“Fuck!” Using the opportunity to slip into his opponent’s mouth, Raian’s victory was short-lived as Ohma took the chance to exact retribution by sinking his teeth deep into his tongue. Huffing through his nose, Raian saw red as Ohma bit down even harder. 

Sharp stabs of pain shot through Ohma’s back as Raian dug his fingers hard into his muscles, which Ohma returned by jabbing as hard as he could into his bulging biceps.

White hot agony exploded behind Ohma’s eyes as the delinquent rammed a knee into his groin and his legs gave out, his forehead bashing against Raian’s upper lip. 

“That...was for the fucking tournament…” Raian wheezed between breaths, chest heaving with the other man still laying on top.

“Shut up...Raian…” Eyes shut tightly, Ohma could feel himself drifting away in the darkness, too tired to even bother getting off of him.

“...You weigh...like a goddamn truck.”

“Shitty brat,” Ohma’s voice was barely audible and he didn’t respond to the poke in his ribs that would have normally pissed him off. There was the soft sound of rustling as Raian shifted underneath him before falling still, hand relaxing on his shoulder.

Giving up trying to fight back the darkness threatening to engulf him, he let the sound of Raian’s quieting pants and warm body lull him to an easy, dreamless sleep. He could always beat him in the morning, after all. 

There was no more snoring for the rest of the night.

***

“What the hell?” In the doorway stood Kure Hollis and Reiichi, who were sent to find them after neither man showed up to breakfast.

“Should we wake them up?” Reiichi whispered. Raian twitched from his position on the ground, face scrunching momentarily but didn’t wake. 

“No, I don’t want to deal with waking up that devil Raian in the morning.”

“Why are they covered in blood? And why is he naked?”

“I don’t know, but don’t tell Karla.” Hollis sighed.

“Don’t tell me what?” Speak of the devil, and she shall arrive.

“Oh fuck.”