#dmmdwriting

[squick-writes]

🍰 What should I write for Trip’s birthday?

My dashboard is so dead that I haven’t checked back in over a month and still instantly caught up in literally 3 minutes but if you reply to this post with all ur hopes & dreams, your suggestions might make it into my next fic! You can also send an anonymous ask, a submission, or reply on twitter. Go wild!

[squick-writes]

The White Day Massacre

AO3 Link Rating: Mature Warnings: Gun violence, blood Relationships: Trip/Virus (DRAMAtical Murder) Additional Tags: White Day shenanigans + Yakuza bullshit (you’re welcome) Summary: Virus and Trip are laden up with gifts and ready to pursue somebody - but who will be their lucky recipient?

It was still March 14th for me when I posted this, shh. Read below or on AO3!

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"If you eat all of those by yourself, you'll get sick again, won't you?"

"Don't care."

Trip was sitting slouched against the champagne-ivory cushioning of their sleek white rental limousine, his jacket open, his tie loose, untucked, coming out of its clip and dangling unattractively over his crotch. He stared straight ahead into nothing, lost in thought as he stuffed his face with one marshmallow after another. The decorative chiffon drawstring pouch was perched open upon his knee, already half empty.

Virus sat across from him at an angle, not quite as prim as he would normally be in the company of others but still somewhat more tightly held in demeanor when compared to Trip, who he had been watching for several minutes until he noted the speed with which the marshmallows were disappearing. Virus was very close to sighing in exasperation. Instead, he merely allowed his eyelids to flutter shut for the briefest instant.

"Don't you think that might not be such a good idea, on a special day like today of all days?"

Trip only paused for a second before offering the bag to Virus. "So help me."

"No thanks. I don't like marshmallows very much."

Trip put the pouch of marshmallows back on his lap and made a long, drawn-out, inarticulate noise of complaint. "We didn't even want these, did we? They just pushed it on us with everything else."

"Mm," Virus agreed. "Nothing sends a message like a generic, uncustomized White Day package. Although I suppose it's so extravagant that nobody should care. It's only a consideration, after all."

Having apparently been sated, Trip ceased snacking on the marshmallows and instead casually flipped the tag over on the enormous bouquet of flowers on the seat beside him to read the fancy hand-penned script off the back.

"They got the right names on, at least."

Virus hesitated a quiet moment, then reached forward to scoop his fingers into the abandoned bag of marshmallows still balanced on Trip's thigh.

"Maybe I will have one."

One turned out to be a couple, before they finally arrived at their destination: an office building towards the back of the Aqua Forest District of Platinum Jail. Stepping out of the limo, they carefully gathered their rather heavy sheaf bouquets of long-stemmed white flower arrangements from the backseat and Virus approached the security guard standing outside the glass front doors with a friendly smile.

"Good evening," Virus greeted him, bowing his head politely. "We're here to answer Suzuki-san's Valentine chocolate. It's to be a very special surprise for White Day, so could you please let us go up the back way? She works on the 10th floor."

The security guard, who by now had probably seen more than his fair share of White Day deliveries and seemed quite tired of it already, merely waved his hand for them to follow and directed them to the service elevator around the back of the building.

"Those are some big flowers," he commented as he unlocked the elevator for them. "Be careful swinging those things around, yeah? Might knock someone out." He shot them a cringe-worthy smile at his own joke before he left.

Trip chuckled lowly to himself the minute the doors closed, slinging his massive bouquet over one shoulder. "You think he got any Valentine's chocolate?"

Glancing sideways at Virus, something suddenly caught his attention.

"Oh. Shit," Trip muttered a curse, reaching out to rub his thumb over a gelatinous red substance that had stained the waist of Virus's white jacket in the mysterious shape of a fingerprint. "This blood?"

Virus twisted his body and pulled at the fabric to look, then clicked his tongue loudly in annoyance at his suit being ruined already.

"That's from you. Must've gotten some on your fingers from the jelly donuts you had this morning."

"Ahh.. Sorry," Trip grinned. "Those were good though."

"Mn," Virus responded noncommittally. He listened to the grinding of the elevator for a moment - no innocuous music playing for the service entrance - then looked down at his wide bouquet of flowers and buried his nose in one. "I used to be allergic to these flowers."

Trip was apparently thinking of something else entirely. "What do you like about doing this sorta thing?"

"Eh?" Virus looked up curiously.

"Like, what's your favorite part? I guess."

"Oh. I don't know." Virus folded his arms around the flowers. "I suppose it's fun to get dressed up and pretend. What about you, what do you think?"

Trip adjusted his stance slightly in anticipation, holding the bouquet over his shoulder with one hand and idly stroking the wrapping paper with the other. He both heard and felt it crinkle satisfyingly beneath his fingers.

"I like the way it slides right in.. and when it gets stuck."

"Fufu," Virus chuckled. "Really? Me too, I guess. But.. well, I don't like shooting inside."

The elevator dinged as it came to a halt and the doors opened.

"Here we are," said Virus. "Ready, Trip?"

"Yeah, yeah."

The inside of office buildings in Platinum Jail were brightly designed to promote better productivity; their digital holographic "windows" currently displayed a pleasant cloudless day, around 11 o' clock in the morning, which contrasted sharply with the permanent nighttime that encompassed the city outside. Virus and Trip moved past several glassy, new-age cubicles without attracting attention to themselves, silent but for the rustling of their suits and the flowers they held ready. They located the receptionist's desk in a matter of minutes.

"Hello," Virus greeted her brightly. "Suzuki-san? You are personal assistant to Ishikawa-sama, right? Is the head of the company in her office? We have a special White Day delivery surprise for her."

"And these are for you too," said Trip, reluctantly withdrawing a box of white chocolates from where it had been pinned inside the bouquet. "Here." He tossed it to the receptionist, who barely caught it. She was blushing harder than anyone he had ever seen.

"Oh my goodness, thank you.. May I ask who these are from? I've never heard of a White Day service like this before.."

"The names of our employers are on the cards," Virus explained, closing his eyes with a smile and tapping his bouquet. "But like we said, it's a surprise, so you'll have to wait and see."

"Of course! Come right this way."

The receptionist led them around the corner, where she knocked a few times on the tinted glass door to Ishikawa's office before entering and bowing to her superior, a stern-looking woman - visually in her mid-to-late thirties but probably older - with slight frown lines and her hair styled on top of her head in a neat black bun.

"Sorry for the interruption, but these men have White Day presents for you."

Surveying them with shrewd, glossy dark eyes, Ishikawa replied impatiently, "Did I not say to keep any gifts at your desk so I could come and get them later? I'm about to make a very important phone call to the mainland."

"Our instructions were to deliver this message in person. It won't take but a minute, we promise," Virus assured her smoothly. "Could you come stand over here so we can get your picture, please? Hold this too, if you don't mind."

Ishikawa seemed to be developing a smile in spite of herself. "Well, this is rather impressive.. I suppose I can humour you for just a moment," she said as she rose from her desk.

Virus pressed a white lily into the hands of both women and guided them closer together in front of the artificial window display. Once he had Suzuki and Ishikawa standing next to each other, flattering them with many briefly teasing, lingering brushes of his hands against their arms and waists, Virus stood aside to allow Trip to snap a picture on his temporary phone - the two women smiling against the faux digital backdrop of a sunny day - which he did while looking bored and balancing the cumbersome bouquet against his leg with one hand.

"Now, for the main event."

Virus and Trip knelt down before the two businesswomen, bowing their heads and holding out the bouquets lengthwise to present them by the base first, as if for the women to take hold of them, the heads of the white floral arrangements resting on their shoulders. Neither Suzuki nor Ishikawa noticed their other hands slipping into the flowers.

"Happy White Day." Virus and Trip glanced to the side to meet each other's eyes, then looked up at their victims. "From the Yakuza."

They waited just long enough to see the dawning horror in the women's eyes as they began to understand their situation, then squeezed their own respective triggers, having pushed the flowers apart and reached into the middle of the bouquets which disguised their weapons. Muffled by twin silencers, gunshots fired through the wrapping paper, which began to smoke.

Blood splattered backwards onto the white petals as the bodies crumpled to the floor.

The holographic window display behind them had also fractured violently, bathing the entire office in the calming artificial darkness from the coolly lit streets outside. Pieces of glass littered the carpet, some glimmering in the women's clothes and hair as the parts of digital screen that remained intact went haywire before shutting off.

Virus and Trip stood up, tugging their white camouflage rifles roughly out of the thick flower arrangements where they were hidden and sending sprays of loosened blossoms showering down around them. They carelessly dropped the rest of the bouquets to the floor.

"That should do it," said Trip, bending down to pick up the box of courtesy chocolates he had given the receptionist. "Shit, window wasn't s'posed to break though. Think anybody heard?"

"Most likely," Virus replied, suddenly sounding tired. "Although these buildings are designed to be pretty soundproof. Who knows?" He nodded to the woman Trip shot. "So, is there an exit wound or did it get stuck inside?" Virus asked, referencing what Trip had said he liked earlier.

"Dunno." Trip leaned back down to roll the body over. He took a minute to check for bullet holes. "Nope, looks like it went clean through. Must've been what broke the window."

"Oh well, that's a shame. Better luck next time."

"We've never shot anyone point blank with these before," said Trip. Wriggling out of his white jacket, the back of which was now covered in cherry-red droplets of varying size, he draped it over the deceased head of company and tucked it in around her shoulders. Apart from the stains, it made her look like someone who might have just passed out drunk after a night on the town. He snapped another picture on his phone. "More or less blood than you were expecting?"

"More," Virus grimaced in response. "C'mon, let's get out of here."

They got away by climbing through the broken window onto the fire escape, leaving the bodies behind amidst the mess of flowers, and hid their guns inside a dumpster behind the building, to be picked up later by one of their lower ranked yakuza associates.

"So, how should we celebrate?" Virus asked cheerily, back to his usual self now that he had divested himself of his own stained attire.

Celebrate what, Trip almost asked as he disposed of his tie and rolled up his sleeves, but then thought better of it and said instead, "Think that new cake shop will be crowded? We could grab one to go and think up a better story to tell the guys at the bar later."

"How can you even still think of eating," Virus began, his eyes narrowing accusatorily, "after consuming half an entire bag of marshmallows by yourself in one sitting?"

Trip shrugged, popping some of the white chocolate into his mouth.

"You've got blood in your hair, by the way," Virus pointed out.

Trip tried to do something about it, but only managed to rub it further into his scalp.

Virus chuckled. "Now you look like a red-head again."

"What? Nuh-uh."

"You do, your roots are showing."

Trip moved to catch his reflection in one of the nearby windows as they passed by, then rejoined Virus on his other side.

"Bullshit, shut up."

Virus laughed again, leaning closer for a brief moment. "You know for someone who eats a lot of sweets, you really have got a filthy mouth."

"I'll leave the sugar-coated words to you," said Trip as they rounded the corner. "So what are you going to tell the guys?"

"Well, we could pretend that it was harder for us to get in... Maybe you had to bribe someone with a kiss or two, hm?"

"What, and I kept them distracted while you did all the cool dirty work? Not a chance in hell."

"Okay, so maybe it was me who did the kissing."

"Better. Keep going." They had reached the busier street in front of the office building. "So what else did you do?"

Virus hesitated, looking for their car, then smirked when Trip poked him in the side. "I'll tell you the rest inside the limousine. You killed like six people though. It was a massacre."

"Sounds good. I wonder if the limo driver can supply us with popcorn."

"We'll probably have to kill him too."

THE END.

[squick-writes]

Months after starting this fic (formerly known as Just Like Old Times), I finally published the final Chapter 3 - Achievement Unlocked: Sex on a Plane. Hurrah, they fuck in the bathroom at last! Thanks for your patience.

Pairing: Trip/Virus (DRAMAtical Murder)

Summary: Virus and Trip are flying out to a different country to conduct some good old-fashioned yakuza business for a week or so. Not everything goes according to plan. There are more than a few surprises along the way.

Additional Tags: Cavity Search, pat-downs, Anal Fingering, Virus gets strip searched by a customs officer while Trip watches, In Public, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, some domestic fluff I guess, Virus is totally not an alcoholic, Mutual Masturbation on Public Transportation, Docking, Anal Sex, Mile High Club

The complete work is now an AO3 exclusive due to the number of edits I made throughout each chapter but here, below the read-more are some of Virus’s internal thoughts which were cut from the final version for the sake of pacing (and which also conveniently function as a teaser for what’s to come).

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"I think for it to be joining the mile high club," Trip said slowly, shaking his cock a few times out of habit, "You have to have sex. As in, actual... what's the word?" His piercing artificial blue eyes made contact with Virus's own. "Penetration."

Virus was already feeling just the slightest bit violated from what had just occurred, as much as it surprised him that he had sort of liked it. "And that didn't count?"

"No."

"Hm." Virus tilted his head, watching Trip's eyes with shrewd and careful interest. They appeared darker; the pupils were blown wide. "And? What are you suggesting?"

Trip had never been one for doing too much talking. "Are you ready?" Trip intoned, maintaining eye contact. He took a step forward again, ominously nodding downward to a part of Virus that was significantly lower. His hands were already positioning themselves above Virus's hips, hovering there for permission.

Virus's eyes widened. "Why do I have to-" he protested.

"You're smaller," explained Trip, unwilling to hunt for a less potentially offensive term even as Virus frowned and mouthed, by like 3 centimetres. "It's just easier... logistically." He licked his lips; his eyes were now glued to the fabric bunched around Virus's waist, though he didn't move to touch or undress him yet, and his voice had dropped almost half an octave into something of a lower, more desirous tone which, while very familiar to Virus, was not usually directed at him.

It was disturbingly similar to the way he sounded when he was looking forward to inflicting some kind of violence.

A chill wave of prickling sensations rushed down Virus's neck and throughout his spine, erecting goosebumps on his skin. He briefly became hyper-aware of the fact that he was locked in a very small space with someone he had never come to fully understand, his back literally to the wall in a situation which prevented any means of escape without making an unwanted scene.

What would Trip do if he refused to go any farther now? His mood and intent were obvious. Would Trip attempt to take him by force, then? Would he be content to just walk away unsatisfied?

Such concerns always faded the instant Virus had them, of course. There had been plenty of time and opportunities for Trip to do whatever he might have wanted to Virus, and he had never taken advantage of him, not once in the many years they'd known each other. There was an unspoken line between them which had never been crossed.

It was his choice. If he wanted, he could redraw the line a little to the left...

He considered what he knew about achieving more powerful orgasms by pleasuring the prostate and (willing himself not to glance down at it) imagined what something as thick and robust as Trip's waiting, upwards-arching cock could do if applied correctly. He doubted it would change anything between them. Nothing ever really had. If he were to tell the truth, he'd been craving something of that particular nature since earlier that day, when the dutiful attentions of the airport staff had caused his libido to kick it up a notch.

And Trip's cock had felt inviting in his grasp..

⚜ Read the full chapter here - it’s free! ⚜

Or, pick an earlier chapter:

Pt. 1 - Tumblr draft -> AO3 Pt. 2 - Tumblr draft -> AO3

Thanks in advance for any support you show my writing! In such a quiet corner of fandom, it’s difficult to find the Motivation to post anything so I really appreciate every like, reblog, comment, and kudos I get!

[squick-writes]

Friendly PSA

In case you missed it the first time around, (Be My) Indifferent Valentine has been slightly edited and is now up on AO3. 😘

[squick-writes]

??? on Twitter

“Anyway, what should I write next?”

You can vote for my next fic on Twitter! The options are:

- White Day shenanigans?? - The Rotten Work of Our Yakuza Friends (human trafficking chapter) - Trust Me, I Could’ve Been a Doctor (Bad End) - the italicized prompts on this list

Go go go!

[squick-writes]

Just Like Old Times - Pt. 2

Part 2/3: On the plane [AO3 Link] [Previous Chapter]

Pairing: Virus/Trip (DRAMAtical Murder)

Warnings: foreplay, public masturbation, gratuitous synonyms for ‘peen’

Summary: A sudden decrease in altitude may cause boners. It’s just unavoidable sometimes. It could happen to you.

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The steady rumbling of the plane's engines had lulled Virus to sleep within an hour of boarding, assisted, no doubt, by the copious amounts of alcohol he had imbibed from one of the various airport bars they had passed on the way to their gate. He was awoken by the return of the beverage cart some time later, when it rolled over the foot his long-legged companion had extended part of the way into the aisle. Trip swore loudly.

"Ahhh~! I am so very sorry," the flight attendant cried out, quietly bowing her apology with a polite smile. "Is there anything else I can get for you sirs?"

Virus ordered another drink to go with Trip's ginger ale. "Isn't that like.. your third?" said Trip, tearing open his complimentary snack. The crinkling of the aluminum laminated wrapper made Virus glance up from pouring out his booze - just in time to watch Trip dump the contents onto the tray. "Don't-" Virus started to say, but closed his mouth. It was too late. Trip had already spread his trail mix across the folding tray and was picking out the peanuts. "What..." "Nevermind.." Virus went back to stirring around the ice in his cup with the little red plastic straw. "It's my fourth, actually, if we're really counting this little itty bitty bottle as a proper drink." "Wow, you seem fine as usual," Trip said with his eyes on his food. Although he was going through the motions of a compliment, his tone remained flat and unimpressed. Just making conversation, the way he had learned from Virus. "Guess you can really hold your liquor, even in the daytime." "Figuratively speaking." Virus craned his neck over the seats to look down the aisle toward the lavatory. "I'll need to get past you in a minute when the trolley is gone." Indeed, he squeezed past Trip to go use the facilities more than a couple of times over the next few hours. "Can't we just switch seats?" Trip complained upon his return. "..I wanted the window anyway." He stood aside so Virus could get back to the corner without stepping over his legs, holding onto the overhead compartment. "No, these seats were assigned to us like this," replied Virus as he got settled in again with a refreshed smile. "Check your boarding pass." Trip plopped back down next to him with a thump. "Huhhh, but I'm bored." "Watch the in-flight movie." "Nah.. it's one of those where they're just talking the whole time. Look. They don't even get naked." Virus chuckled. "No nudity? Ah, well then, clearly, what a waste of time. How about the SkyMall magazine?" "Doesn't interest me. No nudity," Trip bounced back in riposte. His shocking light blue eyes gleamed sharply with amusement at his own cleverness. At that moment, an announcement came over the intercom. "Excuse me, but just so you are all informed, the seatbelt light has come on. Everyone please sit down. We are expecting to come up on some very minor potential turbulence here in a minute." To anyone apart from Trip, the momentary flicker of alarm in Virus's eyes might have been unrecognizable. It was gone by the time they had both buckled their seatbelts. Casually expressionless, Virus passed Trip a stick of gum he had found inside one of his pockets. There was a natural lull in the conversation while they waited for the impending turbulence. Virus reached out to steady his fifth drink just in case as he felt the plane dip lower in the sky but there were no harsh bumps or jolts, merely a sudden vibration they could feel juddering through the floor of the plane. However, it felt strange coming up through their seats.. The sensation was not entirely unwelcome. Wondering if Trip was feeling this peculiar resonance too, Virus glanced over at him to see that he had abruptly stopped chewing; his eyebrows were raised as he stared straight ahead at nothing in particular. Then, just as quickly as they had begun, the reverberations that had touched his pelvis through the seat, the distinctly pleasurable drone felt from between his tailbone (and perineum) to the tip of his member, had gone away, leaving him with a very slight erection which would soon need to be addressed as it continued to grow. He wasn't sure if he was more relieved or disappointed. The captain's voice came proudly over the speakers. "Think we just barely missed it. Thanks, folks! Hang tight for a few minutes just in case, then you're free to get up and walk around again." Virus sighed. It would take a minute for his dick to firm up after the abrupt stimulation but it was going to happen now whether he wanted it to or not. Inconspicuously crossing his legs in the other direction, Virus glanced toward Trip again and caught him staring sideways down at his lap from the corner of his eye, which didn't help matters. He felt another sudden jolt of arousal in his groin, knowing he was being watched so closely, his reaction monitored by the younger man beside him. Trip had clearly felt it too. Such oblique looks from Trip were not uncommon but in this situation it was an unexpected turn-on to have his undivided attention. Virus chanced a quick peek at Trip's crotch in return. Nothing there yet, only his usual girth. Still, he could probably feel a hard one coming on as surely as Virus did. The tension from both of them sitting there like that would be uncomfortable if left without some kind of barrier between them. Virus was someone who avoided minor discomforts whenever possible. Clearing his throat to dilute the awkwardness, he made a request. "When the seatbelt light goes off again, could you reach into the overhead compartment and take down the laptop for me, please?" "Sure." Trip didn't wait to unbuckle. Instead, he stood up immediately as soon as the flight attendant's back was to him. "Going to get some work done?" he asked, shuffling out of their row. Standing in the aisle with his front turned toward Virus, Trip took his time rooting through the overhead compartment. Not that he was looking, but Virus could see it now - the bulging elongated shape of Trip's dick pressing out into the fabric of his trousers. His own manhood twitched in response. Fuck, that was obvious. Was he showing it off on purpose? Or just busy going through someone's stuff.. As if he felt Virus watching him, Trip reached down a hand to grab at his erection, giving it a few good firm solid tugs before withdrawing the laptop from Virus's bag and sitting back down next to him. Virus rested his chin on his thumb and forefinger to wait patiently as Trip passed the computer onto his tray table. Again, Trip's behaviour might have been intentionally directed at him.. or it might not, especially considering as Trip had always had a rather problematic tendency of palming himself through his trousers whenever he got a little too excited, which was more often than not. Virus found himself frequently having to remind Trip to stop touching himself when they were still in public. The fingers he had in his pocket under the tray table, gently massaging his own dick, were much more subtle. He removed them only briefly to turn on the laptop. "You didn't say thanks," Trip pointed out. "Thanks." Wishing he could use his personal computer for something else and intensely aware of the route he could take to get access to his private files, Virus began checking non-sensitive e-mails using the airline WiFi instead. He was deliberately ignoring Trip. From the periphery of his vision, he could sense that his younger associate was still paying close attention to him and so kept his eyes planted firmly on the laptop screen until, after a few more minutes had passed, Trip went back to watching the other people in the plane. Inwardly, Virus sighed with relief and continued stroking himself within his pocket. To his left, however, Trip was apparently having similar ideas. He wasn't even bothering to hide his arousal. Staring down at himself between glances at the other passengers, he shifted his knee back and forth continuously to rub the head of his penis against his leg, creating a little more of the friction he was craving, and occasionally stopping just to squeeze the considerable length of it and pinch around the fabric of his trousers. "Quit playing with yourself," Virus murmured, gently turning the page of one of the magazines he had borrowed from the back of the seat in front of him. "You're doing it too." Virus started, eyes and mouth flying wide open as he blinked at Trip in surprise. Slowly, beneath the magazine, he tucked himself back away inside his zipper. "I didn't think you'd notice.." "Feels good, huh?" Trip sat up straight and tall in his seat, giving Virus another side-eyed smirk from above while stretching out his back. He jerked his cock a few more times. Something about his expression was challenging Virus to do the same. Virus held Trip's equally blue gaze, humouring him with a small grin. "Ehh~" Virus agreed. His eyes glittered as he thrust his hand back under the tray table to fondle himself harder than before, briefly making it more obvious for the sake of Trip's amusement. The intensity of Trip's movements in response shook the armrest between them. Virus quickly withdrew his hand as the flight attendant passed their row, pushing up his glasses as an indication to Trip that playtime was over. They were to return to normal now, get back to their business personas. It wouldn't do to draw any more attention to themselves than they already had. Doing his best to relax and resigning himself to a few more hours of boredom, Virus tapped a few keys on his laptop to get back to the e-mails he had been reading previously. Trip obviously hadn't gotten the memo. "Want to look at porn on your computer?" he intoned lowly, breathing over Virus' shoulder. "No, not at all," Virus replied emphatically. "That would get us kicked off the airline." "Mid-flight?" Trip gave him a leering grin. "C'mon.. I'm still bored." Virus blocked Trip's hand with his knee before he could sneak it beneath the tray table. "My suggestions for that are the same as before," he said lightly. He was used to Trip's attempts to touch him every now and then. As far as he knew, Trip didn't mean anything by it so it didn't bother him. "Yeah well your suggestions are no fun." Nevertheless, Trip diverted his attention to watching the flight attendant once more.

To be continued...

[squick-writes]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Rating: Mature/Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Trip/Virus (DRAMAtical Murder) Additional Tags: Cavity Search, pat-downs, Anal Fingering, Virus gets strip searched by a customs officer while Trip watches, In Public, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, some domestic fluff I guess, Virus is totally not an alcoholic

Summary: Virus and Trip are flying out to a different country to conduct some good old-fashioned yakuza business for a week or so. Not everything goes according to plan. There are more than a few surprises along the way.

You can also read it on my blog below. If you really want to, I guess.

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The apartment was, eerily, completely silent. Virus stood alone at the kitchen counter to sip his home-brewed coffee, vaguely squinting through his glasses at nothing in particular as the mug warmed his hands. It was very early in the morning. 4 a.m.

Virus didn't usually get up this early, although on a few occasions he had vaguely heard the distant sound of Trip watching television from the living room right about now. The latter was due to emerge from his room any minute - or so Virus hoped, impatiently checking the time on his Coil; their ride to the airport would be arriving in approximately thirty minutes and Virus had not yet overseen Trip's readiness. His own suitcase and laptop bag were already lined up in the hall in front of the door. He had packed them the previous night and left them sitting open on his bed until just a few minutes ago. Virus was confident he hadn't forgotten anything. Well, even if he had, it didn't really matter to him. Such provisions were only a precaution, based in comfort rather than necessity. Anything he had missed could easily be bought when they arrived at their destination. He wondered if Trip was bringing anything. They hadn't discussed it. He wasn't sure if his younger associate had even found the spare suitcase in the closet. "Trip?" Virus called hesitantly. There was the sound of a door opening around the corner. "Huh." So Trip was awake, at least. "Will you be ready to go soon?" "Just about." Trip's bedroom door closed again. Virus curiously drifted into the hallway with his cup of coffee to listen through the wall for signs of activity. After a few more minutes, Trip joined him there, wordlessly stopping short just in front of Virus to avoid bumping into him. He was carrying something - a small plastic shopping bag. Virus blinked down at it. "Is that what you're taking?" "Mn," Trip confirmed. "...That's all?" Trip's eyes rolled slowly toward the wall on his right. "You told me to pack a bag with whatever I thought I would need, so..." "Can I take a look?" Virus requested. "Sure, if you like." Trip shrugged, passing the plastic bag to Virus, who matter-of-factly took it into the kitchen to rest it open upon the counter under the dim fluorescent lighting. "Nothing much to see." After sifting through its contents, Virus privately agreed. It looked as though Trip had merely swept everything off his bathroom counter into the first receptacle he'd found, which turned out to have been a plastic shopping bag leftover from the last time they had gotten take-out meals from a convenience store. "You know... most of this stuff you could just buy when we get there," said Virus, glancing up at Trip. He was nonplussed. "That so." "..don't you want to bring a change of clothes?" Trip paused. "..ah." He knew he had forgotten something. Briefly closing his eyes, Virus sighed. "If you want to go pick some things out now, you can put them with the others. I have some room left in my suitcase." "Nah.. Think I'm good." "You're sure?" Virus asked in surprise. "Yup. 's fine." "Alright. We'll just go shopping when we get there then." "'Kay, sounds good," said Trip. "Do you want to grab some breakfast first? Before we leave.." Virus shook his head impatiently. "We don't have time to go out. The car will be here soon. We can eat at the airport." It took them forty minutes to get there. Trip's stomach gurgled loudly for the entire journey.

Pulling up to the curb and removing their luggage from the trunk for them, the driver of the private vehicle (kindly lent to them by Toue Inc.) dropped them off in front of the concourse for the mainland terminal. Trip had easily been convinced to leave his inadequate packing job at home, which meant it was just the one suitcase that had to be checked before they could move on through the Midorijima airport. As "government-sanctioned" officials, they were immediately allowed to enter past the security checkpoint via a sideroom, having been both pre-screened and given priority access.

Their breakfast was taken in the public food court inside the boarding zone simply because Trip fancied having something more Western than what the airport lounge offered. After a full meal of bacon, sausages, and eggs from a sit-down cafe (or in Virus' case, a small bowl of rice and miso soup) they were able to relax and explore the shops and exhibits surrounding their departure gate. "Ah, it's too early to get a drink, isn't it?" complained Virus, tugging on the strap of the briefcase slung over his shoulder. The weight was becoming uncomfortable. "Well, since you didn't bring anything, would you mind carrying the laptop?" "Yeah, yeah." Their first flight only took them to the mainland of Japan and was very short, around two hours. Virus quickly learned that it was not, in fact, too early to be served alcohol, with the result that their very first stop after landing was a public restroom. However, switching to international air travel for their connecting flight meant the loss of special privileges they had become used to in Midorijima. They would have to check their baggage through customs again, properly this time. The Fukuoka airport staff did not care that they were Toue's right-hand men on a privately owned island nearby. In fact, Virus and Trip were bidden to avoid mentioning it, and from now on would be treated like any other business class clientele. Their electronic boarding passes made checking in again quick, easy, and painless - until they reached the metal detectors. The customs officer guarding the security checkpoint looked down at Trip's thrice-buckled boots disapprovingly.

"Sir, you're going to need to remove your shoes." Having moved down the line ahead of Trip, Virus glanced back at him, lips parting into a slight smile as he casually flipped open his briefcase to pull out the laptop, which he stowed separately in one of the bins on the conveyor belt. He had not been asked to remove any of his clothing, professionally dressed as he was in a well-fitted suit and practical shoes. Trip stood out a little bit more. He was forced to have a seat in the only chair provided beside the procession line as he unstrapped his large white boots from his thick lower calves. Virus continued on through the metal detector with an air of amusement, which was quickly wiped from his face when the alarm went off.

Beeeeeeeeeep.

Virus looked back at the male security agent behind the baggage scanner, his eyes wide open in puzzlement. "Is everything okay?" "It's all good, I'm sure," the staff member replied in a bored tone of voice as he gestured for Virus to take a few steps back with his security wand. "Could you please take off your jacket and try going through again?" Pulling off one boot at a time, Trip casually looked up to watch Virus place his jacket in another bin. But when he attempted to move through the metal detector again--

Beeeeeeeeeep.

"Shoes?" the male officer suggested, raising his eyebrows.

Virus easily slipped his dress shoes off his heels and added them to the bin. He padded back over to the metal detector in his dark navy blue socks while Trip was waved around the queue and escorted to the neighbouring station. This time, both of them triggered the alarm.

Bee-Beeeeeeeep.

"My sincerest apologies," began Virus. "I really don't know what the problem here is." Trip removed his layered, artfully tattered sweater, pulling it over his head and uncertainly scratching his now mussed-up hair at the officer's request; Virus, his cuff links and glasses.

Beeeeeeeeeep.

"Your earrings, are they removable? Do you have any other piercings we should know about?" His belt went into the bin on the conveyor belt next. It was no good. The alarm still rang out. The noise was becoming tiresome. Briefly trading places with the male agent, the female customs officer eyed his belongings warily as she drew the security wand up and down Virus's figure, her gaze lingering on the Coil bracelet and burner phone tucked into the front pocket of his briefcase. With a dismissive gesture to her co-worker, she returned to Trip's station and directed him to remove his own earrings. "Alright.." the other officer sighed. "Sir, could you please step into this machine over here?" "Ah, no," Virus protested at the blurry sight of the full-body scanning device. "I can't, medically. It wouldn't be a good idea for me. You understand." The male customs agent stared him down, disbelieving. "You do realise that if you won't consent to being scanned, we may have to resort to other security measures. You will receive a pat-down, to start with. There's something triggering the alarm which you're not telling us about -- it could become a lot more serious from here." "It's fine," insisted Virus, stepping over to the footprints indicated on the floor and assuming a T pose. The officer reluctantly followed. Meanwhile, the female agent processing Trip had retrieved a clipboard and a radio transceiver. "Did you have anything you wanted to declare to us, sir?" "Uhmmm." Trip glanced briefly at Virus, who gave him a slight, weary nod as his trouser legs were being frisked. "I checked a small handgun with my luggage." The woman stopped and gave him the same disapproving look as the other agent. "We're going to need to see the proper documentation on that." "We are licensed to carry. I have copies of our gun permits with me here in my bag and with the gun itself in my suitcase," Virus injected. "We're government employees; it's for our protection." "You're together?" "We work together." The female officer looked him right in the eye as she drew the radio up to her face. "Yeah, I'm going to need you to pull a bag. Bring it to the security office as soon as possible." "Step this way, sir, you're coming with me."

Virus looked from the officer, who had just donned purple sanitary gloves and snapped them into place around his fingers tightly, over to the back of Trip's head with an expression of slight dismay. He was led to a separate room nearby; the security office, he assumed. It was only a short distance away and with the door left ajar, Trip could still see him from the line. "Let me guess. You're going to opt out of being scanned too, right?" said the female customs agent, stepping in front of him as she changed her own gloves. "Uhh.. yeah," Trip responded, distracted by the thought of whatever was happening to Virus in the private room. "I don't think our boss is okay with imaging devices." Between the throngs of people moving across the lines through the airport's security checkpoint, he caught a glimpse of Virus being made to unbutton his shirt. "Arms spread out," ordered the agent. "Like this, please. I'm going to pat you down now. Starting with your arms and shoulders, then you're going to feel me touching your hair." Trip suppressed an impatient noise of complaint. "Do you gotta?" he grunted, automatically raising his hands to interlock his fingers behind his head as if under arrest. The security officer corrected his position. "Down like this, sir." Across the hall, the other officer shined a small flashlight into Virus's mouth, illuminating his pink insides. Next, he would probably be asked to remove his trousers. Trip kept a careful eye on the doorway as his own customs agent dipped two fingers into his waistband and ran them along the length of his hips. "Oi." Trip glared at her while she felt up his baggy trouser legs. "Cut it out. Can't you get a guy to do this?" "Believe me, sir, that would take a while. With that flu currently going around, we're short-staffed at the moment." "Fine.." Doing his best not to fight back, Trip ignored the stranger's hands running up and down his body, lightly groping every contour, and continued to keep watching Virus in the other room. He had been permitted to leave his trousers hanging on halfway down his thighs but now appeared to be bent over slightly, elbows resting on the table as the officer dragged down his underwear and produced a bottle from which he squeezed a decent amount of lube onto his purple-gloved fingertips. Trip didn't say anything this time when the customs agent brushed his privates again, allowing her to continue with the examination. Instead, he briefly averted his eyes from the security office, gazing back towards Virus just in time to watch the other officer's finger slowly sink between his butt cheeks. A minute later, a second finger had disappeared into Virus's anal cavity. The other travellers continued to move ahead through the security line, momentarily obstructing Trip's view of the private room, but even from this distance he could see the tension in Virus's shoulders. "'Kay, all finished. I'm going to ask you to wait over there by the security office until we've retrieved your luggage." "Did you find anything?" The security agent looked at him in disbelief. "...no." "That's good," said Trip, pulling his sweater back on over his head. Clearing his throat as he picked up the briefcase from the other side of the security checkpoint and dumped the contents of Virus's bin into it, he glanced back over at the private room. Someone had finally closed the door. Trip waited in front of it for several minutes, jiggling his leg atop one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs, before Virus's suitcase arrived to be searched by the attending officers. He was able to clear up the gun documentation on his own without any further problems. When Virus finally emerged from the private room, he was looking distinctly more disheveled than when they had arrived. Briskly buttoning up his shirt as he passed by, he still managed to flash Trip a wan smile, however. "Just like old times, ne? Come on, let's get a drink before our next flight."

To be continued...

[squick-writes]

A Duel In The Clock Tower - Pt 2

Completed for #ViTri Week - ★ 7/10 Sunday - Appearance / AU ★

Warnings: magical torture, Noiz gets a boner

Summary: Another little excerpt from my ridiculously in-depth ‘DMMd takes place at Hogwarts’ crossover. Virus and Trip are waiting in the place where Noiz’s dueling team was supposed to meet. They’d like a challenge of their own. Chaos ensues. Depending on whether or not you’re a fan of the HP series, this might be either incredibly boring or the best thing ever. IDK

                                                          📜 ☾

From Part 1:

“It’s dangerous,” Virus continued more matter-of-factly, “when all of the professors have gone to bed. You could be seriously injured and nobody would be around to help you.” He sighed. “Ahh.. As a Prefect, I really ought to do something about this. But.. maybe..” He glanced again at his younger companion.

“Trip?”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Trip darkly, grinning once more as he pulled out his wand and advanced on the group of Ravenclaws. “I’m on it.”

- - - Several Minutes Later, in the Pitch Dark - - -

"Ow - Noiz! Cut it out, okay!? Stop it!"

"What."

"You're pulling way too hard. It's hurting."

"..this is?"

"Ouch! Yes! That's exactly what I mean! Let me go!"

Aoba tried harder to drag back on the arm that was being held captive but Noiz's grip was like unrelenting iron. He stumbled in the darkness instead, somehow managing to cling to Noiz even more to keep from losing his balance. They had apparently reached the flight of stairs that led up into the Clock Tower.

"If I let go, you'll just go back..right?"

"Well.. yeah." Aoba hesitated. "I mean, I guess so? It's just- this really doesn't seem like a good idea."

"It'll be fine," Noiz replied. "You've only got to check it out, see what we're doing. I promise, you won't even have to fight this time - unless I lose."

"Ehh?!? What IF you lose!?"

"Pff. Yeah right." Noiz exhaled in a way that was not quite amused but couldn’t have been far from it. He might have even smiled a little but Aoba couldn't see his face. "Unlikely as hell, I'm really good at this stuff. Don't worry about it. Besides, if it came to that, you've got magical abilities like I've never seen before. That's why I brought you here, remember? I want you to join my team."

"No, no, I keep telling you that was just a fluke!" Increasingly frantic, Aoba finally managed to wrench his arm out of Noiz's grip just as they reached the top of the stairs. "Noiz--"

"Wait." Noiz had suddenly stopped.

Aoba slowly followed his gaze up toward the landing. He hadn't noticed before while he had been busy struggling but the room inside was already warmly lit by a candle left burning beside the gears. In the absence of Aoba’s protests, they could also hear something else - the definite sound of footsteps approaching.

From his much lower position on the stairs, Aoba couldn't see who it was yet. His nerves tensed up in fear. Were they about to be caught?

"Hang on," said Noiz in warning, keeping his voice low. "These guys aren't who we were supposed to be meeting here. Something's up." He moved out from the stairwell, pulling Aoba warily along behind him and revealing them both to the candle light.

Whoever had been waiting for them in the Clock Tower was already coming toward them. Aoba got a brief impression of piercing blue eyes and bright blond shocks of hair before--

"Aoba-san!" "Ya-hoo, Aoba."

It was.. Virus and Trip?

"Oh, hey, it's you guys." Aoba returned their enthusiastic greeting with some relief, although still a little nervous. They were out way past curfew and Virus was a Prefect, after all. However, the Seventh Year Slytherin seemed to be relaxed enough for the time being. Maybe they would be let off the hook.

Noiz, on the other hand, was looking at Aoba with a hard note of accusation in his eyes. "You know them?"

"Yeah, sure," said Aoba graciously. "Er, not very well, I guess, but I sit with them sometimes.."

"We're good friends of Aoba-san's," Virus cut in with a very wide, bright, charming sort of smile that made Aoba do a double take. For some reason, it gave him chills. He found it kind of unnerving. Noiz appeared to be on the same page; he was regarding all three of them with obvious doubt.

"Aren't you from Slytherin..."

"Yes," Virus replied, dipping his head in cheery acknowledgement.

"No," said Trip.

Noiz narrowed his eyes. "Wait, you're not both from the same House? Is that even possible? I thought twins always ended up together."

"They don’t," said Virus, his voice suddenly growing colder, "but we're not twins anyway."

"We aren't," Trip said at the same time.

How anyone could mistake Trip for being the same age as Virus was beyond both of them. Noiz, however, was unconvinced. He continued to stare back and forth at the two of them.

"You're fucking kidding me.."

Feeling like this conversation was about to spiral out of control and get them both in trouble with Virus after all, Aoba tried to speak up again. "I think," he offered helpfully, "Trip is actually in Gryffindor with me.. um.. right?" Uncertain, he looked over at Trip for confirmation.

"Yep."

Trip's normally sullen face split into a grin for the first time since they had emerged from the stairwell. Virus spared him a critical glance - it was unlike him to claim any pride for being in Gryffindor, but Virus suspected he knew the reason behind it. He had just slung a suffocating arm ‘round Aoba’s shoulders.

"I think a more important question is.. who might you be?" Virus asked Noiz suavely, taking a few steps closer as well. "And what brings you up here, together.. in the middle of the night?"

Before Noiz could even attempt an answer, Virus had leaned forward and deftly snatched up the tip of his wand to examine it. Debating whether or not he could get away with punching a Slytherin Prefect, Noiz still gripped the handle more tightly and refused to let go even as Virus held the other end of it aloft.

"Pine wood, yes? Firm, somewhat inflexible. What is that, twelve inches?" Virus suggested, giving the end of the wand a slight waggle. "I'm guessing at dragon heartstring for the core."

Noiz glared at him from under his sparse eyebrows.

"No? Am I wrong? Phoenix feather then."

Noiz yanked his wand back away and Virus let him, releasing the tip without a struggle and dropping his hand elegantly into a pocket instead.

"So, you must be the leader of one of those new little dueling clubs that have been cropping up all over the school lately. Ravenclaw, I presume?" Virus tilted his head with an unknowable smile. "We just sent a group of your members off to bed a while ago. I'm sure by now they're already unconscious.. which, really, we should all be - asleep at this hour."

Trip laughed softly in the background.

"We had an arrangement to meet here," Noiz said angrily. Aoba could tell he was angry because his voice was so much colder and the slant of his eyebrows was growing more intense. "You could've minded your own business."

"Well, you see.. As a Prefect," Virus paused briefly for effect, then smiled wanly, "I think it is my business when there are students breaking curfew. Of course, I wouldn't wish to have to report this to your Heads of House, so.."

"And what about this guy?" Noiz demanded, jabbing his thumb rudely towards Trip. "Shouldn't you be sending him back to Gryffindor Tower as well instead of letting him hang around with you? What are you even doing this far out of the dungeons, anyway? This isn't on your patrol route.."

"Actually, I was just in the middle of escorting Trip back to his own common room when we discovered some of your friends lurking about in the other corridor," Virus lied smoothly. "We figured we could simply wait here for the rest of you." He began to pull out his own wand. "But you know, as it happens, we're sort of interested in dueling as well, so if you were intent on-"

"Fuck no. No way in hell. I've heard the rumours about you two."

"Noiz!?" Aoba exclaimed, astonished by how rude he was being.

Noiz turned his pale green eyes onto Aoba. "Don't you know who these guys are? What group they belong to?" Aoba looked confused, so Noiz elaborated: "Morphine barely even qualifies as a dueling team. They just use the meet-ups as an excuse to bully and torture other students." He glared suspiciously at Virus and Trip once more. "They're the ones using the Unforgivable Curses on their opponents, I'm sure of it."

Virus widened his eyes affectedly. "Unforgivable Curses..?" both he and Aoba echoed at the same time.

"Yeah.." Noiz's posture changed abruptly, as if his whole body had perked up slightly. "Like the Cruciatus Curse." There was a harsh glint in his eyes.

"That's quite an accusation.." Looking down thoughtfully, Virus placed his fingers over his mouth for a brief moment before smiling back up at them again. "But, of course, it's completely wrong. Stories like that one always make the rounds but I'm not sure how you think a couple of students could get away with performing such acts of violence in the middle of a school."

"Yeah.." said Trip in a low voice, sounding dangerous. Aoba jumped, suddenly reminded of his proximity; had he been leaning against the wall that close behind him all this time?

"Anyone caught practising the Dark Arts inside Hogwarts grounds would be expelled immediately," Virus continued. "Surely someone would have noticed and reported it by now."

Trip shrugged. "Nothing to be done about it."

Aoba was getting very uncomfortable with all of this.

"I don't know how you're getting away with it.. yet," Noiz grumbled. "But you're definitely the ones doing it. I'm pretty sure. You've got to admit, it's suspicious as fuck how you two always seem to turn up whenever this stuff is going on."

"It's nothing to do with us," Virus replied confidently.

Noiz paused. "Oh yeah? Then let's see your wand."

Having already been pressing his wand between his steepled fingertips for the past minute or so, Virus hesitated only for a moment. He had no excuse. The smile on his mouth faded into a thin line as he passed the wand to Noiz without objection.

"Priori Incantato."

Behind Aoba, Trip shifted discreetly into a more upright position as they all watched the motions of the last spell Virus had cast, illustrated by the wisps of smoke which rose from the tip of his wand into the air.

"Looks like a Silencing Charm to me," said Noiz after a moment, looking coldly up at Virus for an explanation.

"Ah," Virus agreed cautiously. "The clock in the Slytherin common room was distracting me from my essay.."

Noiz's eyes narrowed again. "Right.." He tossed the wand back to Virus. "So you're telling me neither of you know how to cast the Unforgivable Curses."

"Well, of course I do," Virus mused, tilting his head. "In theory..."

"..Then do it. Right now," said Noiz. He stood straight and tall, puffing out his chest like a target; his breathing had quickened considerably. "Use it on me. The Cruciatus Curse."

"What??" Aoba's mouth dropped wide open in alarm and he seized the Ravenclaw boy's arm. "Noiz!"

"C'mon," Noiz prompted, completely ignoring Aoba to make direct eye contact with Virus. "Let's duel. I'll let you. No consequences if you manage to catch me off guard. If you've never done it before, I bet it won't even work properly. I'll hardly be able to feel a thing."

"You're insane," Aoba hissed, now tugging persistently on his elbow.

Virus, on the other hand, looked intrigued by the challenge.

"What do you think, Trip?" he asked, turning his head toward his companion. "Should we try it?"

Trip rolled his shoulders and neck, looking distant and bored with his hands in his pockets. "I don't fucking know. If you want. Don't care either way."

"Very well then," said Virus, directing his next smile back at Noiz. "We accept. What are the terms of this duel?"

"Here and now. Anything goes. He's my second," said Noiz, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at Aoba this time.

"Oi!! Don't drag me into this!"

"Fair enough,” Virus replied quickly. “In that case, Trip will step in for me if I ask him to.”

"Got it," said Trip.

"Shall we begin?"

The two of them stepped into the open space designated for maintenance of the clock tower gears. After giving each other perfunctory half-bows, they assumed the ready position.

"Okay, on three then," said Virus. "Trip. Will you do the honours?"

"Ya.” Trip began counting without looking away from Aoba's panicked face. The latter had remained closeted in the stairwell as though afraid a disciplinary figure might spontaneously descend upon the scene if he dared to step any closer. Trip watched closely from beside him. “One.. two..”

"Three."

It was over very quickly once it began. Their wands slashed through the air, emitting loud bangs along with sparks and puffs of coloured smoke which briefly obscured them from view.  When the haze cleared, Noiz was on his back on the floor, disarmed, with Virus standing over him. His wand was pointed directly at Noiz's throat.

"Noiz!"

Virus looked up with a smile when he heard Aoba's cry. "Aoba-san. You might not want to watch this part," he suggested in a kind and gentle voice, as he aimed his wand lower down onto Noiz's abdomen. "I'm going to give him what he wants."

"No! Virus-"

"Crucio."

Noiz gasped and immediately began writhing in place, choking out low grunts and sounds of suffering which Aoba had never heard him make before. It was impossible to look away. His flailing limbs had finally caught Trip's rapt attention as well.

After about fifteen seconds or so, Virus lifted his wand to remove the curse. Noiz sank back onto the floor a trembling, panting mess, his normally disheveled robes now in complete disarray.

"Fuck.. That hurt.." said Noiz once he had caught his breath. His voice was ragged and his chest was heaving. But he looked Virus straight in the eyes to challenge him again. "Wasn't that bad though. You're sure you're doing it right?"

Virus met his gaze evenly, his expression merely the faintest bit curious over the indifference, then tilted his head and brought his wand back down to Noiz's chest.

"Crucio."

"Stop it!" yelled Aoba as Noiz began struggling again. He finally moved to exit the stairwell, aiming to physically drag one of them away if he had to, but Trip caught him by the arm and pulled him backwards into a tight hold. "Noiz! Are you okay?!"

Noiz only hissed with pain in response. Aoba wasn't sure if he could even hear anything during the onslaught of intense feeling he was receiving.

Pleadingly, Aoba looked up to Virus instead, but was only further dismayed. There was something very wrong here; he didn't like the way Virus was gazing down at Noiz with his chin tilted at a provocative angle, eyelids lowering slightly as if he were experiencing some great pleasure. This was messed up. It was time to leave. He wanted no part in any of these sick games.

"Let me go," Aoba insisted more boldly, shoving back against Trip's chest, but the strong arms that had wrapped around him wouldn't budge.

When Virus lifted his wand again, Noiz panted harshly and crawled back a few inches on his elbows, his shirt riding up over his stomach and catching on the many piercings there. But still, he did not admit defeat. Virus couldn't help but notice the slight bulge that was being exposed by his trousers, which were now barely clinging to his hips.

"I think.. does he actually like it..?" said Virus slowly, glancing over at Trip as he leaned down to briefly trace the outline with his wand. Noiz shoved the intrusive stick away roughly. "Crucio!"

"STOP."

Virus lifted the curse almost as quickly as it had begun, his mouth parted open in surprise. They all stared at Aoba. Even Noiz appeared to be seething at him from the floor for interrupting - he really couldn't imagine why.

But then Virus smiled again.

"I'm very sorry, Aoba-san. I didn't mean to ignore you. Were you getting bored?" Virus questioned pleasantly, as if he hadn't just been torturing a fellow student. "I think I've won anyway, which means it's your turn."

Trip finally released Aoba. He made to turn and run down the stairs, but was wrenched around by his arm and thrust out in front of Trip on the landing.

"Not him.. I’m not done yet," groaned Noiz. "More. I can handle it, let him go."

"Trip," said Virus, with his eyes closing briefly in irritation.

"On it." Trip abandoned Aoba in front of the stairwell, dragging Noiz over to the gears and out of the way for their next duel. The way he stood over Noiz's twitching form like a hunting dog trained on a rabbit made Aoba hesitate to flee again. He couldn’t leave Noiz alone with these two..

Virus was smiling once more. "Have you ever dueled before, Aoba-san? It's pretty simple. Just use whatever offensive spells you have at your disposal. Since we like you, and it's your first time, I promise to go easy on you. We're big fans of yours, after all. We wouldn’t want you getting hurt over a little practise duel."

"No Unforgivable Curses?" said Aoba warily.

"Of course not. None whatsoever. You have my word," Virus promised, his smile brightening. He bowed his head to demonstrate his sincerity.

"Crucio," Trip muttered from the background. His wand was pointed at Noiz, who yelled out loud in agony for the first time.

“Oi, hey!” Aoba opened his mouth angrily. “Cut it-- augh!” He ducked. Before Aoba could truly begin to protest, Virus had quickly unleashed a spell at him.

They were starting already?!

Not willing to risk Virus getting another shot in, Aoba fired his own spell back at him - the first jinx that came to mind. It was blocked effortlessly. As a Seventh Year, Virus really had the upper hand here. Aoba tried again, with a different hex. Blocked again. He was casting spells as fast as was humanly possible but he just couldn’t seem to get a hit in. Virus deflected everything Aoba threw at him with mere waves of his wand. He was apparently skilled in non-verbal spell-casting, which made Aoba self-conscious about getting so flushed in the face while shouting out commands to his wand.

It took a full minute of this for Aoba to realise Virus had not tried to attack him since initiating the duel. All of his moves had been purely defensive. Aoba hesitated to cast again, and Virus smiled more brightly.

“Very good, Aoba-san,” Virus congratulated him fondly. “You’re doing well so far.”

Bewildered, Aoba looked at him aghast, then remembered the Ravenclaw boy. In the abrupt quiet afforded to them without a constant flurry of magic, the sounds of Noiz’s suffering were becoming all too apparent.

The younger teenager was rolling around dangerously close to the edge of the platform in excruciating pain, while Trip lazily bore down on him with a deadpan expression. Had he lifted the curse even once this whole time? Glaring at Virus, Aoba made to move toward them.

“Ah, now let’s see how you handle blocking offensive spells, shall we?” Virus interrupted him by raising his wand. Aoba barely had time to react as he swiftly cast a second curse.

“Protego!!” Aoba cried, flailing his wand arm desperately.

This was a mistake.

The bright red light which had shot out of Virus’s wand bounced off the magical shield Aoba had conjured and flew straight into the maze of gears in the center of the room, narrowly avoiding Trip’s extended wand arm. Ricocheting back and forth within the clock tower’s mechanisms several times, the curse hit something at just the right angle to propel it straight upwards.

There was a deafening, resounding clang as the redirected spell made contact with the inside of a large bell. Dust was dislodged from the rafters at the impact.

“Shit,” said Trip, as the bell started ringing from the collision.

Virus swore loudly as well, clapping his hands over his ears. “We’d better get out of here. Let’s go. You too, Aoba-san!” he spoke up over the bell’s booming toll. “You don’t want to be caught here at this time of night. Someone is bound to come investigate soon!”

They were already gone, having fled down the stairs.

Despite the urgency of his instinct to escape, Aoba rushed toward Noiz, who lay curled precariously on the very edge of the platform. He was still not fully in control of his limbs, wriggling in small, occasional jolts from the aftershock of pain. Aoba barely registered that the front of his clothes seemed slightly damp as he heaved him onto his feet and threw Noiz’s arm over his shoulder.

Each tremendous chime of the bell above them was like a countdown towards their expulsion from the school. They had to flee, immediately.

“Can you walk?” Aoba raised his voice over the lingering decibels.

Noiz gave a shuddering exhale as his only response, but took a few steps forward, his knees nearly buckling at the last moment.

“I’ll take that as a ‘kind of’. Put your weight on me!” Aoba instructed, dragging Noiz toward the exit.

We have to get out of here...

⚜ To be continued...(?) ⚜