laography | you got a heart that's born with a beat

❝ what's that now,
you forget how to breathe? ❞
I WANNA GET THAT THING RUNNIN'!

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THIS POST HAS POTENTIAL TO BECOME NSFW.

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You always have the means to. [ he mutters, because kuramochi is not an idiot, but. well, he certainly has a calm ryo-san now, doesn't he? much more than he was when they first met, kuramochi having to wrestle this tiny pink hellspawn down before he got knifed. it had resulted in a remarkably strong partnership eventually--what started as an unfortunate coincidence turned into the two of them tracking down the younger kominato together as a team. no help, no other people. ryousuke taped up his hand when he almost cracked his knuckles socking someone in a bar, and kuramochi taught him a couple moves to put his size to good use. promised to teach him to cook, which earned him a painful jab in the ribs that was 100% worth the peal of laughter he got to let out earlier. they were friends. he can say that with confidence.

these other feelings that he's having, those are a little less friendly. those are ones that had him spending two weeks wondering what would've happened if he hadn't chickened out. of remembering the weight of ryousuke's hand in his, soft and full of his emotions where the rest of him refused to show it. of curling around him in a shitty shared motel bed for a brief hour of sleep. of watching him try and handle his brother missing, of admiring his strength for it.

he'd come to realize that what he felt wasn't platonic back on the trip, but absence, as they say, makes the heart grow fonder.

and now he's got that familiar weight here again, up in his arms. ryousuke's warm and real and small against him, and he's marveling a little at this tiny, perfect thing that's come to cling to him, enough that he ducks his head and rests his cheek there, not leaning down (because ryo would kill him) but squeezing that arm around his shoulders. the other comes up around his waist, and he ends up hugging him close, letting out a shaky, almost relieved laugh. ]

[ That gets a laugh out of him, the low and mean one without being truly mean this time, and Ryousuke can't really help it. ] I was giving you the illusion of safety, you know. [ It's said in a murmur, because he's much too busy finding the ways that they fit together again. They've been in this position before, or nearly like it, from the very beginning. Kuramochi using his body to pin his when they first met, the scrape of metal against the ground when the knife was knocked out of his hand and he'd nearly bucked him off before he'd gotten him down. Curling up together and slowly gravitating closer and closer, until they weren't parentheses anymore and were instead a tangle of limbs.

It had just been them, on their insane roadtrip to find his brother, and he'd learned what every twitch of Kuramochi's body meant, the sharp angle of his smiles and the warmth of his body in ways that he hadn't expected with anyone. His chest against his back in a fleeting moment when he adjusted his stance, his arms when they slept pressed close to each other towards the end, the feel of his hands when he needed a grounding force or someone to patch him up. Just them and the bike and the road, and he'd fit against his broad back on that bike the same way he fits against his chest now.

Everything about this is pleasantly unpleasant, and he hates it a little, but he can't step away from it. Not after everything that happened.

What had once been an annoyance, convenient as Kuramochi had been to meet in the end, became something more. Ryousuke hums low in his throat in response to the cheek against the top of his pink head, taking in that changed laugh as he fists his fingers in the back of Kuramochi's shirt. Whatever happens now, with Haruichi safe and everything taken care of, he'll admit to wanting to keep this in his life. ]

[ "illusion" makes kuramochi snort, and he can't help but be a little giddy with it, especially when accompanied by ryo's frankly sometimes sinister chuckle. yeah, he feels plenty safe at the moment, though he won't say that out loud, and he feels like ryo's plenty safe, too. like he's protecting him again, not that kominato ryousuke ever even needed kuramochi's protection, but he couldn't help but feel that way anyway. he understands why people must adore him so much, why they admire him--sure, he's vicious and terrifying and, frankly, pretty damn mean, but it's almost impossible not to respect ryousuke. his tiny stature, his seemingly permanent smile; none of it does anything to make him any less respectable, and kuramochi follows after him helplessly, like he imagines surely any other people have.

for those couple of weeks, he got caught up. he got used to having ryousuke at his side, to his sharp, biting commentary and the soft pads of his fingers against his knuckles, the way he ripped bandages with his teeth and terrified a bouncer of a bar with an uptick of his smile and a menacing aura that could arguably be felt halfway across town. the two of them made quite the pair, going through every seedy establishment around, and when he was gone? he was missed. a lot.

fucking hell, was he missed a lot. it's really stark now with the way he's got ryousuke here, the way he just melts into the smaller body up against his. if kuramochi is tough and loud and brash and annoying, his hands don't show it, in the way the fingers of his right hand come up to curl through his hair instead, practically worshiping as he just holds him there for a little while and mutters a, ] Shit, Ryo-san.

[ everything he wants to say (i missed you, i can't believe you're here, you're here with me, i missed you so much) sounds stupid in his head, and kuramochi settles for pulling away just a little to look down at him instead, thumb rubbing against his hip where his arm has settled. ] Can I--uh, sorry. We can go somewhere, or--I just gotta pack up my guitar, anywhere you wanna go, let's go--

[ goddammit, youichi. embarrassed, he finally lets go of ryousuke and tries to recover. ] Can I buy you a drink or somethin'?

[ While he might not enjoy being coddled, taken care of, sheltered like his life would have led him to be, Ryousuke does like the feeling of safety that he gets with Kuramochi. It's not even that he feels like he's being protected, it just feels like when they're together that they're presenting a unified front. Together, they can fight just about anything - have, literally, fought side-by-side in bar brawls and against the people who stole away his brother. There's never been anyone else he's felt this with, even Haruichi, and it certainly says something about the character of the delinquent that he's fallen in with. Not that he would change it for the world, though.

There's a certain charm to Kuramochi, something he could use to his advantage if he ever decided to actually channel it the way that Ryousuke does. He's softer than his bark but just as sharp as his bite, and it winds up being the perfect counterbalance to who he is, his own sharpness and vicious bite. Like he'd been sitting on a scale and waiting for him to be set down opposite him, not quite completing him but instead this feeling of balance. Which was hard-earned, but the moment it was it was all an easy, downhill slide from there.

There's no one he trusts more than Kuramochi, no one he wants more by his side. He's got the intimidating aura, but Kuramochi is the one with the looks, the muscle behind it, the attitude that rears its head. He's practically his attack dog, and he didn't even ask for or order it - it just happened. But there have been soft touches, gentle guidance, a protectiveness that he'd hate from anyone else. A soft heart in a rough exterior.

A soft sound of approval leaves him in response to the fingers in his hair, and Ryousuke nuzzles his nose into his collar like a sated cat. It might as well be what he is, affection unrestrained for once as he presses a palm flat into the small of his back. If he could just hold him there, and stay in his arms, he'd be content oddly enough.

But he just looks up at him as he pulls back, watching him with blatant amusement before his hands carefully slide away and back to his waist. He doesn't quite want to pull away yet, and Kuramochi is charming in his embarrassment. ] I think it's already been made obvious I'll go anywhere so long as it's with you, Youichi. [ Finally, he draws his hands away, if only to pat them against his chest, a gesture usually reserved for condescension but made into something else by the way he lingers. ] Buy me a drink.

you got a heart that's born with a beat

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