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"Are you okay, Gotou-san?" Masayoshi asked in that inquisitive, almost cheeky fashion as he leaned over Gotou. "You didn't hit your head, right?"

Gotou had not, in fact, hit his head - but he had had the wind knocked out of him and that was almost worse, tryin(more)
The television was the only source of light in the room. Lance closed the door quietly because Shiro was stretched out in the bed and he didn't want to disturb him, but Shiro lifted his head and raised himself up on one elbow, looking to the door for confirmation.(more)
Shiro was a wolf again, unconscious, when Lance finally stopped the Jeep and hopped out, and he made to crawl into the back with him until Keith caught his arm and kept his feet on the ground. "Let me go," Lance said, through too-sharp teeth, and Keith said calmly,(more)
The best nights, James decided, were the ones they didn't spend in a cheap motel or sleeping piled on Shiro's couch.  
They were the warm spring nights where he stacked firewood and Keith hunted their dinner down, fresh and bloody, and they'd spend the twilight sitting beside the(more)
Masayoshi laid on his back on the futon shelf, phone held above his face as he scrolled his newsfeed. Gotou had been dozing on his bed when he arrived, and Masayoshi endeavored to put himself to bed as quietly at possible so as not to disturb him - although(more)
"Bored," Dazai said, his chin resting on his desk and attention fixed on nothing in particular. Atsushi leaned forward a little but didn't look his direction, instead staring diligently at the open laptop screen before him and at least attempting to be productive.
"Stupid question," Shiro croaked out as the Jeep bounced along the unpaved road. Keith was sitting with his back to the coolers braced behind the driver's seat, using his body as a cushion for Shiro to rest against while his body fought to heal itself.
The soft creak of a floorboard woke Gotou. He lifted his head to peer at the other side of the bed, since Masayoshi wasn't pressed to his side. Masayoshi was sleeping almost face-down in the pillow, dead to the world.  
James was sitting across from Keith, chin in his hand as he watched the pedestrian traffic with a distant expression. Keith chewed on a french fry and watched James silently - he'd stopped talking a full minute prior because James was gone, and he didn't know why.
"You know," Matt said, swiping the bar idly with his rag, "if anyone else decided to fuck off for two weeks with no notice whatsoever they'd find themselves well acquainted with my foot in their ass."

"You know you love me," Shiro said lightly, carrying the ice bin.(more)
"So," Shiro said, mock-casually, leaning one shoulder against the frame of the bedroom door. "You don't talk about your family much."

There was something in his voice that made Lance pause what he was doing and look over at Shiro questioningly. "My family is a bunch of seals,(more)
James was bleeding - it didn't seem bad at first, a trickle of blood from his brow, a cut on his cheek but, as Lance glanced down, there was a bandage wrapped tight over his forearm. Before he could open his mouth to ask, James gave him a tired(more)
Gotou had arrived home to Masayoshi trying to juggle a wailing infant and a fussy toddler and looking like he was equally near tears himself. Gotou heeled off his shoes in the genkan, didn't bother to put them up and promptly rescued Masayoshi. "You should have /called/," he said,(more)
There were very few things that Takashi Shirogane couldn't do; he was devastatingly handsome, smart and kind and with abs that Lance could bounce a quarter off of - but for some reason he insisted on cooking when they both knew without a shadow of a doubt that he(more)
There was too much noise after, too many lights, sirens - he was numb to it, he felt, the quiet little professional notch in his brain shutting out the noise, the distraction but instead of his job there was nothing for him to do but sit in the back(more)