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Kid pressed himself flat against a wall, barely breathing and willing himself to merge with the gray stones and become invisible. He listened as the soft footfalls of immaculately polished, perfectly matched leather loafers struck the rock floor.
Dapper. That old-fashioned, underused word was a perfect description of Spirit. His father's Death Scythe, Maka's father, and Soul's idol (even if Soul would never admit it). But to Kid, Spirit was something spectacular -- he was almost symmetrical.
And if Spirit wasn't Maka's father and Death's weapon, Kid might have more than passing curiosity in him. There was just something about him, with his neat silk suit, his precisely knotted tie, and his shiny shoes.
Kid forced his thoughts away from Spirit's symmetry, as they were having unsettling effects on how tight his pants were getting. Right now, he needed to focus. He needed to understand.
He peeked around the corner. Once he made certain the hallway was clear, he walked quietly on his tiptoes, hugging the wall and glancing furtively about. He wouldn't want Spirit to be suspicious, after all.
As he crept down the hall, he took in his surroundings and experienced growing confusion. He knew what was just around the next turn, and the thought made his head swim. He heard a door open, and a few low words were exchanged. Shortly after, the door closed with a click of the latch. Kid exhaled a breath he hadn't even known he was holding.
So. Spirit was definitely visiting Stein.
Kid knew the two of them used to be Weapon and Meister, but then Maka's mother had come along. And now Spirit belonged to Death. Why would Spirit continue to visit the odd, unstable, and completely asymmetrical doctor? Kid could not suppress a shudder when he envisioned that screw.
The screw.
Round on one side, big enough that it took a man-sized hand to turn it, and on the other side, small and tapered. Kid staggered with the wrongness of the lopsided screw in Stein's head. He couldn't even think about Stein's randomly stitched together clothes or the mismatched scars on his skin.
There was no way the harmoniously matched Spirit wasn't disturbed by Stein's unbalanced shape. Kid knew they shared a past -- a cloudy and horrific past, by Spirit's account. From snippets of Spirit's hysterical ravings, Kid understood that Stein -- beside maiming himself unevenly with his questionable and mad fascination for dissection -- he had practiced his dark art of vivisection on Spirit as well.
Kid could only fear what uneven scars Spirit might be hiding under his fine silk shirt. The thought of that creamy skin marred by a lunatic's scalpel made Kid furious with outrage.
And a little sick to his stomach.
Stein -- for his own nefarious reasons -- was forcing Spirit to come visit. Of that, Kid was certain.
Boldly, he gathered his courage and knocked on Stein's cobbled-together door. "Dr. Stein? I would like to talk to you about our latest assignment."
Behind the door, Kid heard a muffled cry and a series of low murmuring sounds before Stein answered, "Ah, Kid. Perhaps you could come back later. I'm a little busy at the moment."
In his mind's eye, Kid saw how busy Stein was. Scalpel in hand, covered in blood, looming over a bound and terrified Spirit. The scalpel deep in Spirit's side, splaying him open.
Kid wasn't going to allow that. "I don't think so, Doctor." He threw open the door and for a full minute -- a lifetime it seemed to Kid -- he could only stare at what he saw.
Spirit was definitely splayed open, but not by a scalpel. Stein was unquestionably over Spirit, but he wasn't really looming -- he was … well, screwing, for lack of a better word. And Spirit was very clearly not terrified (though he was bound, silk tie knotted around his wrists. Kid had gotten that part right, at least).
And Stein. At this moment, Kid had to admit that beneath the patchwork skin, Stein was very, very symmetrical. Perfectly lean, matched muscles rippled, distracting Kid's notice of Stein's mass of stitched-up scars and the ridiculous screw in his crazy head.
Kid closed his mouth as both men watched him watching them.
Stein smiled at Kid but didn't stop moving. "I told you I was busy."
Sweat rolled down Stein's neck and dripped onto Spirit's smooth, unmarked skin. Well, unmarked except for a few hickeys. Stein's back, however, bled freely from several perfectly straight, perfectly matched scratch marks. Kid wondered if that was why Spirit was bound.
Kid's eyes felt dry, and he was sure he hadn't blinked in a very long time. He was mesmerized as he watched the slow roll of Stein's hips and the answering lift of Spirit's ass. They were in synch with one another, maybe not one hundred percent symmetrical, but the ache in Kid's groin didn't really care about that. He wondered if what they were doing was like soul resonance.
"Kid?" Spirit said breathlessly.
Kid blinked, bringing himself back to the here and now, aware that he was watching something very personal. "Yes?"
"Could you please shut the door?" Spirit's eyes slid closed as he arched his back.
"Oh. Yes." Kid closed and then leaned against the cool metal of Stein's door. He felt cheated somehow. He'd come to save Spirit, and he didn't even get –
He groaned. His pants were seriously tight as he hobbled down the hallway toward home. Startled, he realized the sight of screw hadn't derailed his erection, and all he could think of was the perfectly symmetrical scratch marks down Stein's muscled back.
He knew he wouldn't worry about Stein and Spirit together any more. But maybe, just maybe, next time he could devise a way to watch the entire performance without them knowing.
And he was pretty sure he might even know how to pull it off without getting caught.
Fin