mindcracklove | Fanfic: Slap Slap Kiss

As things go around here, I write gen fic almost exclusively. This is not gen. There is shipping here; in fact I would subtitle this Silvercheers Attempts Shipping, Take 2. So yeah, for those who like my gen stuff, I've taken a brief break from sanity to attempt this. My friend sent me this really cool video a few days ago, which heavily inspires the main scene of this fic. Warning for a bit of non-bloody violence, I guess? Also for tooth-rotting cuteness, but that comes after. (btw, the video is pretty much devoid of shippy, so I'd suggest watching it even if you don't read this, it's pretty cool)

Also, just to make sure you all know what you're getting into, lemme give you a warning about my experience with relationships. I'm a wee bit ace, have never had a romantic partner, and don't have much of an aesthetic preference either. So basically -500. Sorry.

*_*_*

Slap Slap Kiss

“Hey, Etho, it’s me, Dinnerbone. I know we haven’t talked for a while, but I set up an experiment and I was wondering if you wanted to participate! I’m inviting a bunch of my other friends too, so just come to [address redacted] if you want to help me out.”

That’s what the message said, so here he is, standing in a room full of people he doesn’t know. Some of them seem to be chatting happily to each other and others (like him) are pressed up against the wall trying their hardest to pretend that the rest of the room doesn’t exist. He’s pretty sure the latter category are the smart ones. It’s probably better to avoid the bulked up man staring intently at every person he comes across as he makes his way around the room. The scruffy, impressively bearded man offering people apples looks a little shady, too.

Just what kind of people do you make friends with, Dinnerbone?!

Well, people like me, presumably. Even more of a reason to press himself against the wall and act like a painting.

Etho can’t help but sidle closer to a pair conversing in a corner near him (he’s bored!). They look sane enough. He hears the woman first.

“I honestly thought there’d be more girls here,” she whispers to her blond companion, nervously combing a hand through her vibrant red hair.

“Really?” the blond asks. “Why?”

“Sometimes a girl just wants to slap someone, Guude! If some guy tells me I get to slap people, I’m gonna do it!” she demonstrates enthusiastically against the wall and Etho flinches at the sharp noise. She winces and flaps her hand, which is now a shade closer to the color of her hair. “Owowow…”

The man, Guude, rolls his eyes, expression amused. “Save it for the faces, Aurey, they’re a little more forgiving than walls. Although the people wearing them might not be. Who knows what kind of people Dinnerbone invited to this thing?” He trails off, pulling himself yet closer to the wall.

“So Guude, does this mean you’re maybe, possibly, just a little bit nervous?” ‘Aurey’ says teasingly, elbowing the man beside her.

“Shut up, Aurey.”

Dinnerbone, with impeccable timing, enters the room, cutting off any further conversation as all occupants turn to stare at their host. “Okay, I’ve set up the equipment and put you all into groups of two.” He tacks a sheet of paper to the wall next to him. “These are your groups. Find your new, or possibly old, friend and introduce yourself. Chat for a minute or two, get to know each other, because you’re about to smack them in the face and probably want them to have sympathy when they get their revenge.”

For a few moments, nobody moves. No one is quite sure who will approach the list of destiny first. Dinnerbone crosses his arms and raises an expectant eyebrow, tapping one foot impatiently. Finally, the creepy staring guy from earlier shrugs and strides over to the paper. He drags his finger down the columns of names, stopping on one. Etho is too far away to read the text.

“My partner is VintageBeef,” he says in an accented voice. “VintageBeef, are you here?”

A bearded man steps away from the wall opposite to Etho. He raises his hand in a short wave. “I’m Beef. And what’s your name?”

Staring guy’s eyes gain a gleeful sparkle, “I’m Anderz! We’re going to be great friends!” He crosses the room in a few easy steps and slings his arm over Beef’s shoulders. “I’ll try not to hit you too hard.”

That seems to be the signal for the rest of them, and they all begin to crowd around the paper. Etho hangs back, unwilling to fight his way through the mob and hoping to use his height to his advantage to see over the others’ heads. If only everyone else weren’t so tall, too.

He waits for the crowd to disperse a little, spotting Guude pairing off with shady apple guy and Aurey with a kid in a violently orange shirt. When the list is finally in sight, he scans it quickly.

Etho Etho Etho… Ah.

Etho --- Nebris.

Not someone he knows, although he did expect that. He hadn’t recognized anyone when he arrived. He’s just wondering how he’s going to find Nebris without resorting to asking everyone who hasn’t paired off yet when Dinnerbone walks out of Etho’s blind spot and shoves a guy at him. Etho instinctively dodges out of the way, letting the man stumble briefly before he regains his footing.

“Here’s your man, Etho! Glad you could make it,” Dinnerbone says with a smile. He turns away to sort out another pair, leaving Etho alone with who is presumably Nebris.

Etho studies Nebris with a practiced eye, noting that he’s receiving the same sort of scrutiny from the other man. He sees slim, quick fingers flittering by Nebris’ sides, probably the left-overs of a suppressed nervous tick, in contrast to compactly muscled arms that aren’t quite hidden by a black shirt and gray vest. Nebris’ stance telegraphs interest edged with a wary guard like a curious cat, always ready to flee if that encounter becomes hostile. Etho deliberately relaxes his posture, letting himself rest on his heels and loosening the set of his shoulders to something more welcoming. He’d been rather tense while waiting, trying to radiate I’m antisocial and you all are kind of weird please stay away.

That done, he lets his gaze meet Nebris’ and wow. That’s uh, violet. He didn’t know eyes could be that color. Nebris’ stare is level, measuring, and somehow unbelievably mesmerizing.

“Are those- Your eyes, are they natural?” He blurts out, and in the next moment he’s wishing he could control his mouth as well as he could the rest of his body. Can’t take it back now, though.

“Yep,” Nebris says, easily. “What about that?” He indicates with a wave of his hand exactly what ‘that’ is. Etho doesn’t really need the direction, most people tend to ask about that if they ask anything at all.

“Ah,” he gently touches the eyepatch over his left eye. “Actually, it is.”

Mutual exchange of insensitive questions; this conversation is going well. He falls silent, uncertain of where to take their introduction next after his pitiful initial attempt.

Nebris rolls his eyes and the prickliness vanishes from his posture. Etho doesn’t think he’s seen the last of it, though.

He’s right, the barbs just went from physical to vocal. “You were born with an eyepatch? That must have been a surprise for your mother.”

“Not… quite,” Etho scratches the back of his neck, a habit he’s not managed to drop. Well, if they’re going to play it that way… He had an obsession with your mom jokes a few years ago, back when they were in style, but was never entirely comfortable with verbalizing them. He always preferred visual puns anyway. Pulling out his key ring (Nebris’ bemused head cock brings a slight smile to Etho’s face), he lets a silver cast of a stylized hoe dangle apart from the keys. “Your mom.”

Sharp eyes narrow. “Is that where this is going to go? Because it can. We can take it there and I’ll bring it. You have no idea who you’re dealing with, Etho.” Nebris, well, it’s hard to describe, but he kind of expands. His whole body takes up a little more space in the room than it used to, entirely like a cat fluffing out its tail and he’s really got to stop with the cat metaphor, because it’s really not attractive and Nebris definitely is.

…Ignoring that thought for a moment—he’s in the middle of a battle of wills, this is no time for those things—Etho delights in the fact that Nebris is still shorter than him, even after that, and steps up so they’re almost nose to forehead to demonstrate it.

You may be able to intrigue me and match me and get me to respond, but I’m still taller than you and you won’t forget that.

Nebris inhales acutely. His head tips back the tiniest bit in order to keep eye contact, but Etho bets that he doesn’t even notice; Etho wouldn’t have noticed if he weren’t keenly aware of Nebris’ every breath, every movement, in this fraction of a lifetime. He’s on the edge of a star, whirling in orbit around fire and fusion, constantly falling and maybe it’s time to let the attraction pull him in, to hell with the battle of wills this is something he wants-

“Ooookay now,” Dinnerbone says, worry in his voice as he stands beside them. “Nebris, Etho, do you guys need different partners? I don’t want anyone getting hurt if you think this is going to get out of hand.” Curse his timing!

“No, we’re cool,” Nebris mutters, hurriedly backing up a pace, turning his attention to the wall.

“Etho?” Dinnerbone asks.

He nods, stare still trained on the back of Nebris’ head, “this is fine.”

“If you’re sure… How about you two go first?”

They shrug in unison. “Sure, why not,” Nebris says.

“Follow me into the next room, I’ve got the cameras set up there.”

Nebris holds his arm out mockingly, inviting Etho to take the lead of their party of two. Never let it be said that Etho can’t play nice. He inclines his head in acknowledgement and falls in a step behind Dinnerbone, listening for Nebris’ quick footfalls over the low rumble of twenty-odd people talking to each other.

After Dinnerbone closes the door on the noise, he motions them to the center of the room where they’ll be in view of the cameras.

“The first thing I want you to do is set up your boundaries, how hard you want to be hit and any places you want to forbid, along with anything else that you think could be a problem. I’m not going to interfere unless something goes wrong. From this point on, I’m not here, you two are alone in the room,” Dinnerbone falls silent and drifts behind the cameras. He knows Etho well enough to keep himself in Etho’s line of sight, so he feels free to comply and ignore the man.

“Limits?” Etho asks Nebris, careful to keep any influencing inflection out of his tone.

“None,” Nebris says, cockily, “Hit me with your best shot, anywhere you like. You?”

Etho considers, but Nebris isn’t giving off any aggression, just challenge and ‘think you can do better?’ “None.”

“Alright, bring it,” Nebris stands with his arms open in a classic ‘come get some’ position, but his feet are squared perfectly and his weight is centered low, belying his casual appearance.

Raising his right hand, Etho smacks him across the left cheek. A tap by his standards, and apparently Nebris’ too because the man just shakes his head once. “What kind of slap was that?”

Etho shrugs. He likes testing and poking and doing the unexpected. Nebris doesn’t have to like it.

He settles himself into his own ready stance as Nebris raises his left hand. Don’tflinchdon’tflinch. Shifts his weight minutely to deal with the impact coming on his right, and finds himself stunned and flabbergasted as he’s slapped on both cheeks. Nebris used both hands, and he’d been so focused on the left that he’d completely missed the right on his blind side!

He’s not angry, though, by not forbidding his left side he as good as gave Nebris an invitation, he knew that at the time. And Nebris was ballsy enough to take it. He’s liking the man more and more, every minute.

Now, of course, this means war.

“Any other time and you’d be minus that right arm. But I’ll settle for this.” That might very well be the most he’s said to Nebris and it happens to be a threat. How nice.

Etho whaps him upside the left temple. There’s enough power in the blow to send Nebris listing, but he slides his foot to the right to regain his balance and bounces back to catch Etho’s lower jaw with a quick, splay-fingered whack. It knocks Etho’s head back and sets it ringing for a moment. He clears his mind with a few shakes, in time to be granted the sight of Nebris’ much messier hair before he swipes it back into place.

Well, they can’t have that, can they. Etho slaps Nebris’ right cheek, skimming his nose. That’s alright, though, he’s going for knockback and didn’t put in enough power to break anything. Nebris actually stumbles this time, hair definitely out of place now.

He so going to pay for that, but Etho doesn’t really mind.

Nebris comes up swinging, his slap hitting high on Etho’s right cheek and clipping the edge of his ear, hard. It stings, Nebris put some impressive force into that one.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” Nebris warns, but with a smug edge like he doesn’t have much of an objection and is thoroughly enjoying it.

“Oh? Do you?” Etho asks.

Smacking Nebris across the right cheek, Etho grazes the edge of his mouth. Whoopsie, he meant for that one to sting in return, hopefully it doesn’t swell. Nebris blinks at him, startled, and holds his jaw.

“Want me to kiss it and make it better?” Etho taunts with a sliver of a smirk.

He drops his hand. “Maybe I do,” Nebris’ grin is sharklike, wide, dangerous, and exposing far too many teeth, just daring Etho to follow through.

“Usually I like a date before getting to first base.”

“Eastside Starbucks, Tuesday at six.”

“Meet you there.”

Etho spins on his heel and stalks out the door, but not before catching a glimpse of Nebris’ flushed cheeks. Going by his flustered expression, not all of that redness is from their little catfight.

I did that, he thinks with a thrill of pride, he’s blushing because of me. It’s not just satisfaction he’s feeling, though. There’s something other than that, something warm that he refuses to think about too hard, for fear of offering something too fragile too hastily.

See you Tuesday, Nebris.

--

Dinnerbone stares, surprised, at Etho’s retreating back, sure that he saw a hint of pink across the bridge of his nose. He knows Etho didn’t get hit there.

He turns to Nebris, who’s attempting to school his expression into a glower at the door (it doesn’t work so well with his blush and gaping mouth). “Sooo… That was a thing that happened.”

*_Coda_*

They do in fact meet up at the Eastside Starbucks on Tuesday at six o’clock. Etho contents himself with a mocha, while Nebris, being the troll Etho is slowly learning he is, chooses a vibrant Frappuccino, claiming: “There is nothing more manly than a fine specimen of the male gender, such as myself, drinking a frothy, pink liquid through a straw. While on a date.”

He seems a lot more comfortable now, after their slap fight. And if Etho is honest with himself, he feels a lot more comfortable with Nebris, too. Even just the few minutes they spent talking outside the café and while in line felt a whole lot less like walking on pins and needles and a whole lot more like learning and exploring and testing and bending but never breaking. They’re both far too curious for their own goods, Nebris wants to know how, Etho wants to know why, and they complement each other in that respect.

They take their drinks and go on a walk for some place more secluded, finding themselves hidden away in a stand of trees in a park on the edge of town.

Sitting at the base of one large fir, Etho asks, “So it did swell up, then?”

“Yep,” Nebris sighs, tugging on his lower lip and isn’t that distracting, “all good now, though. I say we smack Dinnerbone for it.”

“My face did sting for a while after that, I concur,” Etho says, slanting his eye towards a particular part of Nebris’ face. He’s been toying with an idea over the weekend…

Nebris appears to have similar thoughts. “So, about that date…”

“That was a date,” Etho agrees, and turns to press a quick kiss to Nebris’ left cheek.

“Oh, c’mon,” Nebris whines, once the shock of the sudden contact wears off. “Really? That’s all I get?”

Preferring to let his actions speak for him, Etho simply presses another against Nebris’ temple, feeling him freeze momentarily, and another to the tip of his nose. He feels almost giddy as he recalls where his final slap hit, and gently brushes his lips over the corner of Nebris’, entirely innocent. Nebris is completely still, and Etho pulls back to meet that violet, dazed stare.

“Nope,” he breathes.

Nebris gives a full-body shiver and comprehension, along with inspiration, lights his gaze.

“My turn.”

He doesn’t give Etho time to think before he draws close and gives him a peck on each cheek, quick as he can. He drops a third on Etho’s jaw, and his nerves tingle as Nebris’ scruff rasps his cheek as he kisses the shell of his ear.

Ohgod, the memories of each blow flare with every kiss, along with the absolute trust he’d placed in Nebris because just because there weren’t any limits didn’t mean there wasn’t anything to break and it’s almost a little too much for his heart to handle. This must of what Nebris felt, why he’d frozen through their perfectly chaste exchange.

He rests his forehead against Nebris’ and exhales the breath he’d held, lets himself just breathe and hold Nebris’ appreciative stare instead. Because of that, he can see the moment Nebris thinks screw it and buries a hand in Etho’s hair to pull him in for a legitimate kiss, his other hand supporting Etho’s jaw to keep them steady. He tastes like strawberries and Etho probably has coffee breath, but as first kisses go it certainly satisfies Etho. Based on Nebris’ little noise just then, he’s pleased with it as well.

They have to break for air eventually, and Nebris’ devilish smile is enough to take his breath away again.

“So, after the second date…?”

*_*_*

End.

We'll be back to gen after this, shipping is intense to write, but I prefer platonic things.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

elfowlgirl

Silver I am adding you to my Skype contacts and nicknaming you "Gold" as that is all you appear to write.

even as someone who doesn't read/write shipfics this was glorious

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"isn't much different than the subreddit" -Guude / http://tinyurl.com/l7gbxah

Fanfic: Slap Slap Kiss

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