He stands at an impressive 180 cm, and looms behind the cheerful yellow-haired midget as the door opens and they enter. Len doesn't hear what his sister says, though her lips move nonstop for a good while; his attention is thoroughly captured by the pair of fierce golden eyes rooting him to the spot with their hawk-like gaze. Seventy kilograms of lean muscle crosses the threshold of the Kagamine home, bringing with it an air of electric tension.
Has his sister brought home a gangster? (The boy's impeccably-gelled, sharp russet spikes seem to support Len's theory on the boy's character.)
"We'll be in the living room, okay?" his sister says as she passes him by with barely a blink in his direction. The hulking mass of silent teenager called a boy follows after her, though his eyes track Len's until they pass each other by. Len is suddenly reminded of a documentary he watched the other day, wherein a cheetah purposefully stalks its prey—he feels like prey to those sharp eyes.
Who is that boy? His sister seems very close with him (just his imagination). Left alone in the foyer, Len's mind starts to reel uncomfortably. How can his sister bring home a boy, much less a very dangerous-looking boy, and take him to the living room like it's nothing unusual? Can they possibly be doing something they aren't supposed to, right this minute, in the living room?
A chill washes down his spine as his mind is bombarded with unwanted images of his sister being assaulted by the hormone-laced giant.
This isn't happening.
Len runs into the living room, gasping his sister's name. He stops at the archway, hands scrabbling to find purchase on the simple wood molding, as his seeking gaze only finds the tall boy seated at the coffee table. The teen turns at the noise, large hands pausing in their movements from arranging papers and a textbook on the table's sleek surface. The items look innocent enough, as school things usually are, but the pen in the boy's hand seems deadly. Maybe it is due to the fact that the boy in question is holding said pen like a weapon.
Len blanches at the sight. It cannot be counted against him or his worth as a man that he takes an involuntary step back for the sake of self-preservation. Do you want to be stabbed to death by a pen? No? Well, there you go.
"Sorry," Giant Boy grunts, or at least it is what Len is able to decipher from the grunt. He watches the man-boy set the pen-weapon down on the table, and releases a sigh of relief.
Yes, darlings, Giant Boy looks that dangerous. Although he isn't built like a wrestler, that doesn't mean he doesn't have muscles—and, oh, are those corded things powerful enough to crush the diminutive Asian boy into a pulp. Poor baby.
"Where's my sister?" the smaller boy finally manages to ask as he slowly inches his way to the couch, curiously trying to put as much space between himself and the tall teen sitting on the floor.
"Changing," Giant Boy grunts. He reaches for the textbook and opens it.
A few moments pass before Len asks, "So what's your name?"
Two things happen at once: Len realizes he is making small-talk, and Giant Boy laughs. Derisively.
"Are you gay?" the tall boy smirks. "Sorry to break it to you, but I don't swing that way." It's the most the boy has spoken since setting foot in the twins' home. His voice is a deep and smooth bass; and it is surprising because it doesn't match his rough appearance. It is the voice of an adult—which is actually scary in itself coming from the lips of a rude and offensive (and ruggedly handsome) teenager.
Of course Len has to defend his masculinity (even though it's apparent to everyone reading this that he's got nothing on the gangster lookalike). "Since when does asking for a name make someone gay?" he splutters elegantly.
"Since the person asking happens to be a fidgety girl," Giant Boy dryly answers. Humor dances in his golden eyes. Len is not amused.
"I am not a girl," he says. Or growls. Take your pick.
"Your sister seems to think you are," Giant Boy counters.
"And what are you to my sister?" Len challenges. He doesn't realize that he has gotten to his feet; he doesn't even realize that his hands have curled into fists at his sides, as if expecting the conversation to come to blows any minute soon.
Giant Boy observes this, and slowly stands to meet Len's silent challenge. Both boys meet toe to toe, and the overwhelming contrast of their height is thrown into sharp relief. Len may very well be facing the boy's solar plexus—well, he silently takes comfort in the fact that he can maybe head-butt the boy breathless...hopefully before said boy smashes him. Anyway, getting back to the showdown.
Amber eyes narrow down on cerulean, and Giant Boy rumbles, "Wouldn't you like to know?" It is clear that he is trying to get a rise out of Len, if only to see how the boy is like, but Len doesn't realize this. You see, his world has narrowed down into a kind of tunnel vision at the end of which is his sister's virtue. It's a very, very cramped tunnel.
"So Giant Boy kills him," the man finished, smirking amid severe booing and tossed peanuts from his companions surrounding him.
"Speaking about yourself in third person shows signs of mental illness, you know," advised Meiko wisely just before taking a deep swig from the gallon jug of sake in her possession.
"I'll take your advice once I know you're sober, love," the russet-haired man returned with good humor and a sardonic grin, trailing callused fingertips along the underside of the brunette's chin. He nearly received a peanut up his nose for his impudence.
"Giant Boy? Seriously, Al?" tittered a pink-haired vixen behind dainty fingertips as the man named Al rubbed his nose clean of peanut salt.
"Blame it on the kids who started it," the big man raised his palms in surrender.
"Continue!" someone called out. More peanuts were thrown in serious agreement for Al to get on with the story.
Before either boy can come to their senses, they are thrown into an intense battle of wills the likes of which none of them have ever experienced before. Molten gold locks onto stormy sea green as one attempts to beat down the other by sheer force of will. It is a physical and mental test of courage and a measure of one's ability to fight the temptations of ADD. Who will win?
For the passing five minutes, nobody seems to know; and it is the longest five minutes in the history of inordinately stretched time.
A twitch here.
A wince there.
A passing growl.
A returning snarl.
At last one of them speaks.
"Are you going out with my sister?" Len asks. The strain is evident in his voice.
"Who wants to know?" Giant Boy challenges.
"I do!" A formidable scowl appears on the smaller boy's face. It almost makes him seem capable of doing great violence unto the other boy. "If you lay a hand on her, I swear I'll...I'll..."
The taller boy merely smirks down at him, and somehow, it is enough to send Len off the edge. With a burst of unrestrained, primal strength, the slight boy launches himself at the giant and tackles him to the ground.
...only to be hauled off and punched in the jaw.
When the smoke clears, both boys are sitting up on the floor, facing a tiny but angry girl. Her sea green eyes flash ferociously in warning against any move, and Len realizes that she has just punched him.
By his sister.
Aren't there laws in place against brutality towards one's own twin? This is not fair.
He clamps his mouth shut as he realizes he has said his thoughts out loud.
"Well, you should have realized how stupid you were behaving towards my guest," his sister replies, taking one threatening step in Len's direction. He shrinks away from her with a wince, gingerly rubbing his aching jaw. It isn't easy to forget a punch, especially when its evidence is making your head throb.
She shushes him with a sharp hand gesture, and surprisingly, he shuts up. Giving him the meanest glare she can muster (and trust me, it's a very wicked one), his sister points to the doorway.
Len's jaw drops (and throbs). "Seriously?" he asks.
"Get out," she says in a low voice.
"You can't be serious," he insists.
"Oh, I'm pretty sure I'm serious," she returns.
"I'm your brother!" he argues.
"All the more reason for you to get out of my sight." His sister stomps her foot down.
"But he's a gangster!"
Forgotten on the floor, the tall boy coughs to hide a laugh; but the action catches the attention of the yellow-haired girl, and it brings a flush of embarrassment to her cheeks. She turns back to Len, a slipper miraculously appearing in her hand, and whacks him out of the living room.
"I can take care of myself, stupid Len!"
Screw this drabble. Let's leave it open-ended. End.
AnimaniacXOX's original prompt: Rin brings home a Vocaloid boy for a study session, and while away Len grills the boy with impossible questions. I chose the most impossible Vocaloid. :'D
LONG LIVE BIG AL! *insert lots of hearts and fangirliness here* He is 193 cm (6'4" to you other peoples) at his official age, I just compensated for his teenage years. *swoon* !
Sorry for dropping off the radar. I had to surface to the real world for srs bsns. If it seems like the narration is switching from Len's POV to the bodiless narrator's (aka Al's) POV, I'm also sorry.
I hope you enjoyed this! Thank you for reading! :D