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metamorphosis2012-01-02 03:38 am
flair) wrote in metamorphosis2012-01-02 03:38 am
Entry tags:
270;
Title: champagne bubbles
Characters: Spada Belforma, Luca Milda
Rating: G
7/365. Technically takes place after the winter play, but-- couldn't wait to post it. Have a happy new year!
There's nothing special about ringing in the new year (never has been, not for him) but it still makes Spada smile to see the way Luca's face lights up anyway when he opens the door to see him reclining on the railing with a paper bag clenched in his hand. Luca immediately invites him in (he would've invited himself in if he hadn't anyway) and while he gives a polite hello to Mr. and Mrs. Milda, Luca's tugging him up the stairs and to his room. They shut the door, lock it quickly, and sit on the white carpet floor; Spada's always liked how it felt (soft and fun to pull at, like Luca) and he digs his fingers into it while Luca peeks into the bag he's brought and makes a sound between a gasp and a startled yelp.
“Spada, we're not old enough-- where did you--”
“Relax, it's just some champagne I snuck outta my house. We'll pop the cork when the clock strikes midnight or somethin'.”
Luca concedes rather quickly, pulling the bottle out and inspecting it; he sets it to the side and raises his eyebrows when he pulls out two glasses, too, and sets them by the bottle. Spada closes his eyes as he lays back and grins, dragging his fingers across the carpet and, before he lays his head down, crosses his arms behind it and sighs. He feels someone shift beside him and tries to keep the grin instead of turning it into a smirk (a long, drawn one, like a cat's) as he peeks open an eye and sees Luca staring down at him, worry lines creasing his forehead. Luca jumps back a little when he finally realizes Spada's caught him and Spada quirks, thinning his lips a little despite the smile that's still on his face.
“You gonna kiss me without a little liquid courage?”
“N-No! I was just, um... you looked a little troubled, that's all.”
Spada doubts that but he sits up anyway, nudging his shoulder against Luca's and frowning with his eyebrows (though the smile doesn't waver; he must look silly, but he doesn't want to get rid of the easy-going grin that keeps Luca relaxed). Luca looks away and stands, shakily walking over to the table by the window look at the time and tap his fingernail against the clock's surface, watching the hands tick away the seconds.
“Um... Half a minute left, until--”
“Shut up and sit your ass down then!”
Luca sits by the clock, then, and mouths the countdown until it gets to ten seconds left. He mutters it quietly, just loud enough for Spada to hear, and when it hits midnight fireworks explode outside. Luca smiles and looks over, and while he wouldn't call Luca beautiful, he looks good framed by the flashing reds and blues and greens that scream and holler in the night sky. Spada pops the champagne bottle's cork and sprays the bubbles across the room at Luca, laughing when Luca splutters and shakes and grumbles about how he'd have to dry up the carpet; while he sneaks to get towels to do just that, Spada pours them each a glass and offers it up to him when he steps back in. Luca carefully locks the door and lifts it from his hand. He throws the towels on the champagne trail and lines them up, nice and neat, and sits beside Spada at last. They clink their glasses together and down it all (Luca chokes a little when the taste hits his mouth and Spada rests his lips against the cool edge of the glass when he's finished, as if he's done this a million times) and Spada fills Luca's glass again.
“You're not having a second? – Wait, what makes you think I want a second?”
“Luca, you winced like a little kid when that went down. How're you gonna attend fancy parties if you can't handle the bubbly stuff?”
“What makes you think I'll be attending any of them..?”
“Heir to the Milda Company, right? 'Course you'll be goin' to those parties.”
Luca frowns and Spada knows it's because he's hit a nail and it isn't pretty – and because he knows he didn't answer Luca's question about not getting a second glass. But he doesn't press his point any further than he has to (and Luca keeps his mouth shut except for when he's sipping his champagne and complaining quietly whenever Spada fills it again) and by the time the clock ticks its way to one in the morning, the bottle's gone and Luca's threading his fingers with Spada's, a frown on his face and when he tries to start his words, they're a little slurred – but he gets his mouth working once he sits up and leans on Spada.
“What're your-- your resholutions for the new year, Spada?”
“Man, you're such a lightie... What're yours?”
“Passh the-- the year an' maybe get a girl-- girlfriend-- You didn't answer me!”
Luca shakes Spada a little, as if he'd get the answer out of him that way, and Spada chuckles and tugs him close. Luca shifts until he's sitting on Spada's lap and-- that's new, way new, and he has a sick feeling in his stomach when he realizes he doesn't really mind the sophomore leaning back against his legs and getting comfortable, feet against his bed and the champagne glass clutched loosely in his hand (and it really shouldn't be-- there should be a book there, not an empty glass, and Spada wonders if it was a bad idea to bring over a bottle instead of some party poppers). Luca closes his eyes and just lays like that, and Spada thinks he's drifted off to sleep until he shifts a little and sighs.
“Please?”
Spada's mind immediately flies down and has a hard time getting back up; he realizes that Luca's asking him to spill his resolutions and he sighs, too, leans back against the bed and throws an arm over his face before he answers.
“Pass this year, I guess. Try to do better or somethin'. Maybe I won't run away from home this year.”
“What's that shupposed-- supposed t'mean, Spada?”
Spada doesn't answer him; he just leans forward and brushes his lips against Luca's forehead and presses them together afterward. Luca's eyes are a little out of focus but the concern is genuine; his fingers are curled a little tighter around the glass, too, and Spada can tell he's trying to think it over and trying to think in general, and he wraps his arms around Luca, shaking his head. He doesn't want to ring in the new year thinking of his family; he wants to ring it in with his new friend (someone that he's maybe been clinging to too desperately lately, someone who treated him kindly and listened to him and looked up to him the way he's wanted to be looked up it – instead of looked down on, even by people who didn't know him, because he'd gotten into a few too many fights and skipped school and didn't amount to anything--)
He doesn't want to ring in the new year thinking of his family, so he lets Luca lay his head on his shoulder and fall asleep, the glass delicately rolling onto the white carpet and the white towels that are through with their job of soaking up the champagne from earlier, and he closes his eyes and smiles when he thinks about how sore Luca'll be in the morning.
Characters: Spada Belforma, Luca Milda
Rating: G
7/365. Technically takes place after the winter play, but-- couldn't wait to post it. Have a happy new year!
There's nothing special about ringing in the new year (never has been, not for him) but it still makes Spada smile to see the way Luca's face lights up anyway when he opens the door to see him reclining on the railing with a paper bag clenched in his hand. Luca immediately invites him in (he would've invited himself in if he hadn't anyway) and while he gives a polite hello to Mr. and Mrs. Milda, Luca's tugging him up the stairs and to his room. They shut the door, lock it quickly, and sit on the white carpet floor; Spada's always liked how it felt (soft and fun to pull at, like Luca) and he digs his fingers into it while Luca peeks into the bag he's brought and makes a sound between a gasp and a startled yelp.
“Spada, we're not old enough-- where did you--”
“Relax, it's just some champagne I snuck outta my house. We'll pop the cork when the clock strikes midnight or somethin'.”
Luca concedes rather quickly, pulling the bottle out and inspecting it; he sets it to the side and raises his eyebrows when he pulls out two glasses, too, and sets them by the bottle. Spada closes his eyes as he lays back and grins, dragging his fingers across the carpet and, before he lays his head down, crosses his arms behind it and sighs. He feels someone shift beside him and tries to keep the grin instead of turning it into a smirk (a long, drawn one, like a cat's) as he peeks open an eye and sees Luca staring down at him, worry lines creasing his forehead. Luca jumps back a little when he finally realizes Spada's caught him and Spada quirks, thinning his lips a little despite the smile that's still on his face.
“You gonna kiss me without a little liquid courage?”
“N-No! I was just, um... you looked a little troubled, that's all.”
Spada doubts that but he sits up anyway, nudging his shoulder against Luca's and frowning with his eyebrows (though the smile doesn't waver; he must look silly, but he doesn't want to get rid of the easy-going grin that keeps Luca relaxed). Luca looks away and stands, shakily walking over to the table by the window look at the time and tap his fingernail against the clock's surface, watching the hands tick away the seconds.
“Um... Half a minute left, until--”
“Shut up and sit your ass down then!”
Luca sits by the clock, then, and mouths the countdown until it gets to ten seconds left. He mutters it quietly, just loud enough for Spada to hear, and when it hits midnight fireworks explode outside. Luca smiles and looks over, and while he wouldn't call Luca beautiful, he looks good framed by the flashing reds and blues and greens that scream and holler in the night sky. Spada pops the champagne bottle's cork and sprays the bubbles across the room at Luca, laughing when Luca splutters and shakes and grumbles about how he'd have to dry up the carpet; while he sneaks to get towels to do just that, Spada pours them each a glass and offers it up to him when he steps back in. Luca carefully locks the door and lifts it from his hand. He throws the towels on the champagne trail and lines them up, nice and neat, and sits beside Spada at last. They clink their glasses together and down it all (Luca chokes a little when the taste hits his mouth and Spada rests his lips against the cool edge of the glass when he's finished, as if he's done this a million times) and Spada fills Luca's glass again.
“You're not having a second? – Wait, what makes you think I want a second?”
“Luca, you winced like a little kid when that went down. How're you gonna attend fancy parties if you can't handle the bubbly stuff?”
“What makes you think I'll be attending any of them..?”
“Heir to the Milda Company, right? 'Course you'll be goin' to those parties.”
Luca frowns and Spada knows it's because he's hit a nail and it isn't pretty – and because he knows he didn't answer Luca's question about not getting a second glass. But he doesn't press his point any further than he has to (and Luca keeps his mouth shut except for when he's sipping his champagne and complaining quietly whenever Spada fills it again) and by the time the clock ticks its way to one in the morning, the bottle's gone and Luca's threading his fingers with Spada's, a frown on his face and when he tries to start his words, they're a little slurred – but he gets his mouth working once he sits up and leans on Spada.
“What're your-- your resholutions for the new year, Spada?”
“Man, you're such a lightie... What're yours?”
“Passh the-- the year an' maybe get a girl-- girlfriend-- You didn't answer me!”
Luca shakes Spada a little, as if he'd get the answer out of him that way, and Spada chuckles and tugs him close. Luca shifts until he's sitting on Spada's lap and-- that's new, way new, and he has a sick feeling in his stomach when he realizes he doesn't really mind the sophomore leaning back against his legs and getting comfortable, feet against his bed and the champagne glass clutched loosely in his hand (and it really shouldn't be-- there should be a book there, not an empty glass, and Spada wonders if it was a bad idea to bring over a bottle instead of some party poppers). Luca closes his eyes and just lays like that, and Spada thinks he's drifted off to sleep until he shifts a little and sighs.
“Please?”
Spada's mind immediately flies down and has a hard time getting back up; he realizes that Luca's asking him to spill his resolutions and he sighs, too, leans back against the bed and throws an arm over his face before he answers.
“Pass this year, I guess. Try to do better or somethin'. Maybe I won't run away from home this year.”
“What's that shupposed-- supposed t'mean, Spada?”
Spada doesn't answer him; he just leans forward and brushes his lips against Luca's forehead and presses them together afterward. Luca's eyes are a little out of focus but the concern is genuine; his fingers are curled a little tighter around the glass, too, and Spada can tell he's trying to think it over and trying to think in general, and he wraps his arms around Luca, shaking his head. He doesn't want to ring in the new year thinking of his family; he wants to ring it in with his new friend (someone that he's maybe been clinging to too desperately lately, someone who treated him kindly and listened to him and looked up to him the way he's wanted to be looked up it – instead of looked down on, even by people who didn't know him, because he'd gotten into a few too many fights and skipped school and didn't amount to anything--)
He doesn't want to ring in the new year thinking of his family, so he lets Luca lay his head on his shoulder and fall asleep, the glass delicately rolling onto the white carpet and the white towels that are through with their job of soaking up the champagne from earlier, and he closes his eyes and smiles when he thinks about how sore Luca'll be in the morning.