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ʟʏʀɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ, ɪ'ᴍ ᴏᴘᴛɪᴍᴜs ᴘʀɪᴍᴇ ([personal profile] folklore) wrote in [community profile] laography2015-07-23 10:28 pm
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baserunning: coronataes !! dw (5.)

[personal profile] baserunning 2015-09-29 02:05 am (UTC)(link)
So that's all that matters, then. [ kuramochi ends up huffing that a little, his cheeks flushing just faintly at the thought of saying something kinda gooey and mushy like that with miyucky in the same room (ugh, he'd never let him live it down)--not that he doesn't mean it, though. he and ryo-san have never really been ones for feelings, not out loud. it was the quiet things, the way mochi ended up tittering around a little before he leaned over and kissed ryousuke's forehead before he scooted out of his apartment for work, that ryousuke made him dinner even though he was terrible at it (and kuramochi ate it). it's jumping headfirst into hell to free him without even hesitating.

(and he would, really, do it again.)

ryousuke's fingers feel nice in his hair, and for a minute, the desire to go home hits him like a freight train. he wants to sleep for nine years. and maybe eat eight bowls of rice all at once. and some pizza. going to hell is exhausting and the bags under his eyes aren't going anywhere anytime soon, but the sound of that heartbeat pressed up against his chest makes every single bit of it okay again. he didn't know if it was going to work out--wasn't sure if he'd get to see ryousuke again.

he didn't even get to say goodbye. half of that was what fueled him--he couldn't just leave like that, with no warning or parting words. he loved ryousuke too much to hurt him that badly--though self sacrifice wasn't off the table--and he knew just as well as anyone that his heart wasn't fragile, but his love was hard earned, and like hell he was letting it go that soon.

finally pulling away a little, kuramochi drops his forehead to rest on ryo's small shoulder and breathes in. the faint ashy smell that's usually around ryo-san is gone now. (kuramochi supposes he makes up for it.) ] If you're gonna kill me for this, can you at least let me go feed some orphans or somethin' so I don't end up back in there?

[ it's a little bit of a joke. like 75%. mostly because it wouldn't surprise him if ryou did kill him for this-- still, his body betrays him and he curls his arm further into his back, not giving a single fuck about the other occupants of the room for a little longer. ]
flyball: entropycurse @ tumblr (００３．)

[personal profile] flyball 2015-09-29 02:41 am (UTC)(link)
Mm. [ A small bit of pleasure ripples through the storm of emotions that's built up in him, in response to seeing Kuramochi flushing like that. Ryousuke delights in teasing him until he blushes, although it certainly isn't nearly as hard as most people would assume with the way his delinquent biker tends to act. All bark, no bite - except here is the evidence of his bite, in his hands and on his body and that spark in his eyes when a fight he stands for rears its head.

Offset by gentle hands combing through his hair in the morning when he thinks Ryousuke is still asleep, and how he treats Haruichi like his own, and how he never leaves without saying goodbye, even when he's in a hurry.

That, that is what would have broken him, he thinks. He never got to say goodbye to his parents, he wouldn't have gotten to say goodbye to Haruichi if he hadn't signed his soul away, and this time he wouldn't have gotten to say goodbye to Youichi if the moron hadn't come back swinging. Between the fact that he did this at all, that he risked his all to free him, and this...

Gently, he cradles the back of his skull in both hands as Kuramochi drops his forehead onto his shoulder. Despite the fact that there's still other people in the room, Ryousuke doesn't hesitate to kiss the side of his head, burying his nose near his ear and sighing deeply, breathing him in. The sulfur is there, but he has every intention of scrubbing him down and massaging out the aches and pains when they're alone again, when they're home. ]

Sorry, it's going to take a lot more groveling before I take you to an orphanage. [ His tone is lofty, but soft, and he stays as close as he can for that moment longer. There's a heart thrumming in his chest, he can feel the way it expands and contracts with each breath, can feel the gust of breath each time he talks in their enclosed space. He's alive, he's okay. Gentling his fingers through his hair one last time, he tucks his head down so that he can press his nose into his cheek, cupping the other one in the palm of his hand.

Quietly, only for Youichi, he turns his accidental petname around on him in a murmur: ] Let's go home, babe.
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