daemon_angelus: (fate extra | saber nero [ points! ])
[personal profile] daemon_angelus
notes (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧
1. more model!au (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧ now with added shameless indulgence! (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧
2. correction: model!au with flashback scene of mini solky college!au (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧
3. no, I don't know how I summoned enough shamelessness to describe sol's physique like that (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧
4. it's not done but I'M JUST GONNA LEAVE THIS HERE FIRST COS I REALLY WROTE ALOT OKAY (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧


"Why are we here - "
 
- Sol's hand shoots out to grab the wrist of the make-up lady who was about to stick something black and bushy in his goddamn eye - raises an eyebrow when she lets out a timid squeak, a blush rising in her cheeks - quickly lets go when the thought that she might not have been completely uncomfortable with that half-forms in his mind - eyes lingering on her retreating form to make sure she doesn't try and put some weird contraption near his face again before he whips his head round to Katsuya in the chair right next to him - the young blond looking like he was enjoying having his hair brushed and styled a little too much - Sol's long unruly ponytail almost slapping an assistant walking past with a rack of clothes as he does so -
 
"No seriously - " not a trace of amusement on his features - "Why are we here."
 
Katsuya lets out a contented sigh - Sol tries not to roll his eyes - doesn't even bother to turn his head to face Sol as he answers, "Dunno, I just told ya whatever Ben told me - that they needed the janitors here for the shoot - "
 
"But why are we the ones getting hair and make-up - " Sol realises it's pointless to continue questioning Katsuya when he starts gesturing for the stylist working on his hair to continue with the brushing part a bit longer before all the spraying and gels - again, resists the urge to slap a palm to his forehead as he growls out irritably -
 
"Oi, which one of you is Ben?"
 
An awkward cough, some shuffling later - and a too-thin, bespectacled, trying-too-hard-to-be-fashionable intern comes up to Sol. "I-I'm Ben, c-can I help you, Mr Badguy - "
 
"Ben, my friend - " tries to hide the annoyed twitch in his brow with a smile that still looks more razored than friendly (Sol sees Ben swallow in fear but it's not like he can really be bothered at the moment - ), "Care to run us through exactly why the janitorial team is getting hair and make-up when frankly speaking, we're the least qualified people in the room - "
 
"Be-because Mr Kaiba was furious, and s-said, I quote, 'Who do those stuck-up divas think they areBoycotting a shoot - you, in the corner, get me some replacements - I almost don't care who they are, janitors or not - as long as they can stand in front of this camera without cracking the lens' - "
 
Sol already has his head in a hand that's propped up on one knee - "Let me guess. You were the one in the corner, Ben - "
 
"Y-yes - "
 
"And you took Mr Kaiba's words literally, and told my adorable, completely competent subordinate here, to bring the other janitorial staff available to hair and make-up for said shoot?"
 
"Yes! - eek - "
 
Whatever delight Ben had been feeling from getting his message across was squashed, chewed up and spat out under the deathly glare of sharply narrowed gold eyes - 
 
"Do me a favour, Ben, and get out of my sight this instant - "
 
"I don't get what's da big deal, Sol," Katsuya speaks up from beside him, his usual impossibly angled hairdo already tamed and swept up to one side like those Korean boyband members Sol saw on TV every now and then - were those ombre highlights - "I mean, Ky does this all the time and he's in the shoot, shouldn't you be used - "
 
- Sol never thought any latent secondhand knowledge of fucking lip gloss in the back of his mind would come in handy now, as he uncaps a random stray tube and slaps it onto Katsuya's mouth faster than the blink of an eye - to shut him the fuck up - whispers low through gritted teeth - "No one here knows about me and Ky, and we want to keep it that way, don't we?"
 
"Hey, dis tastes like strawberries - "
 
- Sol tries rather hard not to break the thin, shiny plastic stick in his hand.
 
---
 
You have got to be joking - 
 
"Hey, you - " Sol calls out to a random staff member - tries to suppress a shiver as the air-conditioning turns its vanes his way - "Isn't there supposed to be some sort of t-shirt, or singlet, or anything that goes under this jacket?" - is this close to slugging the next person whose stare lingers a fraction too long on his exposed abs - 
 
"But, why, you look absolutely stunning, Mr Badguy, if I may boldly say so on our first meeting."
 
- grinds his teeth together - and turns to see Ky behind him - eyes polite (mischievous), features relaxed (a hint of smugness in them), a warm smile adorning his lips (the tell-tale quirk of a challenge plain for Sol to see) -
 
- canines flashing dangerously as he grins in reply - so Ky wants to play, does he - "That's quite a compliment coming from the one and only Ky Kiske" - studies Ky's slender shoulders and waist through the thin, almost translucent white shirt he has draped on, black skinny jeans with various embellishments and subtle belts wrapped around elegant legs, tucked into chunkier black laced boots - "I'm flattered" - goes the whole fucking nine yards and then some as he carefully, slowly, purposefully takes Ky's hand in his own, brings the back of delicate fingers to his lips and places a light kiss to them - smouldering golden eyes never leaving electric cerulean - 
 
And there was just something to this whole situation - the teasing and temptations, in front of and among strangers none the wiser - fanning the flames and sparks of provocation and daring - wanting to watch with glee as the other caved to something primal and instinctual (a game almost too familiar between the both of them but never in the public eye - )
 
- Sol subtly flips Katsuya the bird with his free hand without looking in his direction, when the young blond cups his hands around his mouth and shout-whispers 'get a room!' at them.
 
---
 
"Wait - what-! Why do I have to go with stinkin' Kaiba - "

The look Sol gives him is absolutely withering - "Did you think, for even one second, that I'm letting you and your grubby paws near Ky?"

"S'not fair!!" 
 
---
 
Okay, he really wasn't used to this (isn't sure how Ky ever got used to all of it).
 
Sol hadn't even stepped onto the actual set - a single leather couch - and his skin already felt matted from the glare of various spotlights and testing camera flashes - the constant hum of chattering voices and movement from the staff making the hair at the nape of his neck bristle - looks down and glares slightly at whatever they had put him in - a single black jacket that absolutely no one had bothered to pass him something to wear under, baggy but still designer pants with a pair of red-black grunge boots -
 
"Don't worry, you haven't put on weight - I should know - and your waist-to-hip ratio is still ridiculous so - "
 
- Sol just slides his eyes to the side, a knowing smirk forming in response to Ky's whispered encouragement; follows the twists of his waist as he walks by - almost glides, effortless and elegant, the loose white shirt billowing softly after him -
 
- just thinks damn, how did I ever land a gorgeous fine piece of ass like that somewhere in his mind.
 
Sol spots Kaiba subtly glancing his way as he speaks to Ky, no doubt worried about whether Sol was up to the task or not - 
 
"Are you certain, Ky? While not anyone's first choice, Jounouchi Katsuya might actually be easier to work with than - that oversized beef steak over there - "
 
"Oh, he'll - we'll - be fine," Ky proclaims with an odd sense of finality and it's the first time Kaiba notices a distinct quirk in the edges of Ky's smile, almost sharpened into a smirk - 
 
"Oh, So- Mr Badguy, I believe, this - " reaches for the simple black hair tie holding Sol's unruly mahogany strands in a long ponytail when he approaches them - tugs " - would fit our current concept more - "
 
"The fuck - " and as Sol's dark waist-long hair comes loose from their usual bindings, the picture he paints is both feral and captivating - a displeased scowl on his face, hand running into where his hair tie had been, prompting the shift of his jacket to reveal tanned sculpted muscle and the sharp jut of a hip bone just above the waist band of his pants -
 
(Ky smiles, bright and cordial - has to suppress a pleasant shudder when he recalls the shifting of skin over the same muscles - taut with effort and exertion - when Sol wraps an arm around his own waist and lifts - still recalls the coolness of the wall on his own bare back - as he runs fingers down and over Sol's side - almost giddy under the weight and heat - open-mouthed kisses pressed along his collarbone - blunt nails digging into his hip - all while he writhes breathlessly against the wall of their bedroom - )
 
- blinks back once, twice - to Sol already mildly bored and seated on the leather couch, posture slouched with his hands in the pockets of his pants but by no means unenticing - what with long strands of dark dishevelled mahogany hair framing gold eyes that never lose their smoke and fire (even when Sol was just lazily taking in his surroundings) - the slightly distressed material of the jacket collar contrasting with a strong chiselled jawline and wrapping around broad shoulders - unfastened zip revealing the tantalising plane of hard muscle of Sol's chest and pecs - leading down to that impossible 'v' where his hips dipped past the ebony of his pants - 
 
- may or may not have felt an ugly spark of something deep inside him when Ky notices two of the female staff - out of the corner of his eye - seemingly revelling in the sheer amount of raw power and strength on display (all concealed under tanned skin, every minuscule undulation whispering alluring promises of something even wilder and carnal)  -
 
- and Ky has the sudden realisation that this shoot might not go as smoothly as he'd initially thought.
 
---
 
"You are an animal - trapped in the concrete jungles of civilisation and culture - you must break free from your chain - "
 
Yeah, no way I'm listening to this nutter any longer -

- lounges back on the leather couch - arms stretching along the back of it as Sol drops his head back - doesn't even really bother with how the jacket spreads wider from the action - the cool air conditioning not even bothering him much now that he was in the full glare of huge spotlights - leaves it to Ky, seated next to him, to nod attentively (or at least, at the right intervals) as this Giuseppe guy - the director and cameraman of this particular shoot - explains his artistic vision and what not -
 
- suddenly - there's a forceful tug on the left collar of his jacket - Sol's head snapping back to face the camera - sees Ky's right hand bunching up the distressed material even more, expression serious but with just the right amount of hooded eyes, parted lips, fingers of his free hand propped on one knee, clasping his chin, index finger just touching his bottom lip -
 
Ky doesn't even look away from the camera lens when he speaks, low and quiet, "You really should listen to him."
 
Tch - threads his fingers through where Ky has a fist in his jacket (ignores the lightbulb flashes that go off with every subtle change in their positioning and expressions - ) "Why, when I can listen to you instead- "
 
Ky slides vivid cerulean eyes towards Sol at the remark - and he sees the spark of something in them - 
 
- can't quite catch Ky's gaze anymore when he leans his head against Sol's shoulder, his long blond ponytail bright against the black material of Sol's jacket, a few strands almost ticklish on his bare abs - 
 
- a few more flashes, before Giuseppe puts down the camera and starts ranting about something in Italian - Sol just looks on from his spot on the couch with a bored expression - and when Ky comes back after a quick chat with the director - 
 
- ends up straddling Sol - but with his knees locked at an angle so it's not as intimate as it should be - leans in close to Sol's ear and - 
 
"He says he needs you to be - invested in this - " 
 
"You know I don't give a fuck about - " 
 
" - I'm sure you can easily recall any one of the numerous times you've had your way with me on our couch - "
 
- and with that, Ky shifts back to his spot beside Sol, a too-bright, knowing smile on his features -
 
 - and Sol doesn't even care if Giuseppe is busy throwing praises out and snapping away at whatever was on his face now.
 
---
 
It's a little while later that Sol starts to notice the change in Ky's mood - really should have realised it sooner (the straddling? In front of the whole crew? Really?) -
 
- the one where Ky would sometimes come home after a long day of meetings, the apartment door slamming shut just a little too loud (enough to startle Sol out of the chorus to Bohemian Rhapsody he plays on some bluetooth-capable-megaphone-replica that was his real and only contribution to home decor) - Ky would set his fashionable sling bag down, even folds his jacket neatly onto a chair - but Sol would notice the tension stringing up his shoulders, an impatient curl in slender fingers, and just the hint of a downward grimace at the edges of his lips - 
 
"Rough day?" Sol would ask, and depending on how many people he'd wanted to call an absolute bastard to their faces but couldn't without losing precious endorsements and partnerships, Ky would either sigh and start ranting a little or - 
 
- there's a hand - Ky's hand - slipping into and pushing the jacket off his left shoulder - golden eyes widening with an amused glint in them - just stares with a bemused quirk on his lips as Ky quickly flashes a reassuring smile to Giuseppe - that's way too sharp around the edges - as if saying everything is under control, just trying to get a good shot - when it's anything but -

"Everything okay, babe - " he asks, maybe not really totally on purpose -

- lets loose a breathless laugh when there's a sharp pull at where Ky has tangled his fingers into Sol's long dark hair - "Told you - " and Sol just relishes the feeling of one of Ky's hands tightening on his bicep, the other still hasn't let go of his hair, that rare steel and fire running through Ky's words - "not to - " the quirk in Sol's lips flattens into a satisfied smirk - as Ky settles his lips just a breath shy on the newly exposed skin of Sol's neck - "call me babe - "
 
- Sol hums low in thought when he finds the connection - the reason for the thunder and lightning in Ky's eyes and between his brows - when he glances around the studio and sees more than a few pair of eyes focused on him, mostly female, looking as if they were threading this fine line between their moral consciousness, their sense of decency - and just outright begging for him to throw them on the goddamn floor and have his way with them - 
 
"Why are you so fired up today?" As if any of them could ever hope to even compare with you -
 
"Don't know - " - may have let out an 'Oi' without any heat when Ky starts pulling his jacket off to around his elbows - "It's not everyday you're laid out like some fine piece of meat for other people to devour with their eyes - " - and being surveyed with a cool methodical gaze should not be this hot -
 
"Never pegged you for the jealous type - " Doesn't he realise he's, technically, just making it worse - strain visible in the muscles of his forearm and biceps from where the material eats into his skin - Sol's hunched forward slightly now, elbows resting on his knees, tensing up his abs and shoulders - plain for all to see with the jacket out of the way -
 
"Neither did I" - but then, Ky's fingers are curling along the edge of his jaw, just below his ear, tilting Sol's head towards him at a slight upwards angle - and Sol sees Ky seated with one leg on the floor, his other leg bent up on the couch, knee propping up the hand that's on Sol. Ky's posture and expression are deceptively nonchalant - when he was the one who'd supposedly tamed and subdued the beast, laid him bare with just a mere touch - (or at least, that's what Sol thinks Giuseppe is muttering from behind the camera - )
 
Sol shrugs as much as his current pose would allow, the motion belying the growing want within him - "Can't say it's not hot though - "
 
Ky scoffs, a light blush rising in his cheeks even through the gold dusting of make-up they had mixed in with his foundation (or primer, or blusher, whatever it was - )
 
It reminds Sol of how downright uptight, prissy, and temperamental the other man had been when they were younger - when straight As, honour roll undergrad student Ky Kiske had the absolute misfortune to be assigned a dorm room together with one never-actually-got-that-cert PhD-candidate Sol Badguy (someone, somewhere, must have somehow thought the arrangement would benefit Ky, who'd been taking advanced courses as part of his scholarship deal with the college - )
 
That person had been wrong, gravely so - but it was the best goddamn thing to ever happen in Sol's life.
 
---
 
Sol thinks the first words he ever said to the person who'd become his partner-for-life (so far) were something along the lines of "oi, you, don't step on my printout" -
 
They were never meant to get along - Ky was every bit the straight-laced, goodie-two-shoes, bordering-on-prodigy kid he looked (used to have neat, short blond hair, reading glasses he wore almost constantly because he had basically no hobbies and friends besides his grades, and Sol's certain student council and the occasional volunteer work didn't count too). As for Sol - well, Sol was that grumpy guy who never left his room besides instant coffee refills and the occasional laundry day, falling asleep and waking up on disorganised data sheets (that left black smudges on his face sometimes and yes, he actually did work when he was back in school) because he'd had the whole place to himself until Ky came along in the second year of his PhD course -
 
At first, Ky'd tried to be nice and tolerant, convincing himself that there was good in everyone and one shouldn't judge a book by its cover - except there were only so many Tuesdays he could stand having almighty and, frankly, asinine arguments about why don't you ever take out the trash before something snapped (Sol would admit that half of the needling and taunting and refusing to clean up after himself and eating the boxes of food in the fridge clearly labelled Ky's had been, strictly speaking, highly unnecessary; he'd just liked seeing Ky sputter angrily with righteous indignation because goddamn were numbers and codes boring compared to witnessing Ky cross that imaginary line in his own head and just let go - )
 
Ky had seemingly decided that enough was enough that one Tuesday night, and in a moment of impulse (or some may say folly) - had fisted two hands into the front of Sol's shirt, pulled him close and planted one right on Sol's lips - perhaps just to get him to shut the hell up - perhaps there'd always been denial on the edges of the rather choice words and glares he'd fling at Sol - (It'd been building up for months; and Sol would be outright lying if he'd said he hadn't been attracted to the prettiest person he'd seen since he'd been born, who was always within earshot and a hand's reach, and really, the walls separating their rooms were thin as fuck - )
 
Sol might have gotten in a you sure 'bout this, kid? somewhere along sliding his hands under Ky's shirt and pressing a knee between his legs - but when his question was met with blue-green fire and the firmest he'd ever seen Ky's jaw set - who was Sol to try and stop the guy and say no -
 
It hadn't gone past jerking each other off in Sol's room, but that was all it took (for them to start to realise that they couldn't go back to an existence without each other.)
 
In the beginning (of whatever they were back then), Sol had brushed it off thinking it'd just be a one-off thing - that one story everyone had about "that one time I did something weird with my roommate" and that would be his lot in Ky's life - just a juicy anecdote, a memory you dug up on nights when you were alone - a goofy smile, a chuckle of disbelief - before the everyday set you back on track, and the fragment would fade back into the ashes of a past that's already splintered with time and age - 
 
He really didn't expect that the kid would come back for more - and without a wagon of horses pulling him along, kicking and screaming - actually, a lot more. 
 
Their time of day started to form and revolve around each other (although, it was pretty much the same since they were roommates - just less of the hostilities and more of the hooking up parts) - Sol even started helping Ky with his assignments the occasional times he'd be frowning for about half an hour at a rather complex physics equation, and Ky stopped putting name labels on the food in the fridge - 
 
What had really tipped the delicate fragile balance - of a 'them' that was never spoken aloud and committed - was one night about three months before Ky's graduation -
 
They'd been savouring the afterglow, content to just soak in each other's warmth, Sol's arm tightly around Ky's waist and pressing the other's back flush against his torso because damn were these dorm beds small - 

Sol had just been about to doze off when Ky murmured something along the lines of "I'll take up the offer - from Kontrast Creative - " and it takes Sol about a minute to remember what he's referring to -

"What, that modelling agency?" Sol vaguely remembers Ky mentioning he'd been scouted on the way back from classes sometime ago - "Sure, but why?" - leans in more to nuzzle at the nape of Ky's neck - "I thought you always had plans to get a good government job, serve the people and all that - "

" - can't do that if I need to feed a brilliant but lazy, antisocial oaf on the side - "

"Who - " and with the way Ky tries to hide shallow breaths, the quickening of his heartbeat, curling into himself slightly, and a flush Sol feels all the way to the back of his shoulders - an idea borne from a mix of youthful idealism and pragmatism - the realisation hits -

And it knocks the wind right out of Sol. (That the kid was really, kind of, serious about them being together for the foreseeable future.)

He doesn't know what to say, fingers tensing where they'd been absent-mindedly stroking nonsense patterns into Ky's skin - feels something like the heavy lead of guilt settling in his stomach -

"You - why - "

Ky shifts, turning to face him - "D-do you - perhaps - " and the creases between Ky's brows, the wavering shadows in usually vibrant, determined, almost fearless cerulean eyes - made even more obvious by the way he tries to suppress what's plainly written on his face - makes that horrible aching feeling swell up in Sol even more - "not - want - "

This? You? Us?

It doesn't matter what lay at the end of Ky's sentence - swallows it all up with a deep kiss (the words, the feelings of doubt, and the absolutely inane inadequacies and insecurities) - Ky's hands moving to clutch the back of Sol's head, pressing him closer still, almost like he's afraid Sol'd leave if he didn't, hah -

Sol knows better - that when someone as close to perfection like Ky Kiske says he wants to be with you, you just take it and run -
 
(Almost a decade on, and Sol sometimes still jolts awake at four in the morning - and through the haze of trying to remember his own name, he still feels that disconnect - that the prettiest thing this side of the universe is nuzzling into his shoulder - has always wanted, wants to be, was - and still is - his.)
 
---
 
"Everything okay?"
 
Sol doesn't know how long it'd been since he took the saccharine nostalgia trip down memory lane (maybe ten minutes, maybe twice as long) - it doesn't seem like Giuseppe is anymore displeased than when they'd first started, but Ky's glancing at him out of the corner of his eye, tracing tiny circles at the base of his spine out of habit and concern - 
 
"Yeah, yeah," Sol breathes out.

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