route_1065 | i think i'm scared; i think too much

Entry tags:

masaharu niou | prince of tennis

i think i'm scared; i think too much

Who:

usedlaserbeam
Where: The forest off Route 35, just outside of Goldenrod.
When: This afternoon! September 14.
Summary: Yagyuu finally breaks the radio silence and Serious Discussion ensues.
Rating: ~~PG, since Niou's here.~~ PG-13 for references to sexual almost-encounters. Should've seen that coming.
Log:

[ It's been a quiet few weeks for Niou.

It's better, he thinks, than a quiet few weeks for everyone. The team, his friends have carried on around him, and he's glad for it. Yagyuu's quiet avoidance has been a little unnerving, but Niou can't really complain. Yagyuu isn't the only one avoiding someone.

Still, it begs the question of why. Visceral memories of the radio tower resurface and he brushes them aside, unsettled. That wasn't him, that was Yuuki... at least, at first. It wasn't always, and that's the part that makes Niou's stomach clench in anxiety. Yagyuu knows it, too — too much of that tension, that tremulous pleasure was Niou, beneath Yagyuu, not Atobe. Did he cross a line? Is it too late to go back?

Waiting is the worst part, but he's too scared to set the ball in motion himself.

So he's out here in the woods, leaning against a tree and feeling lethargic, watching his Persian tangle with a Drowzee. Self-direction is the Rikkai way, so he says nothing unless she screws up. ]

Don't take your eyes off it. You'll lose advantage if you get poisoned.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Yagyuu knows how to be patient.

It's something he's good at, being patient. He's certainly had a lot of practice at it, to the point where he's refined it into almost an art. It's a practice rooted in objectivity, in self-denial; it's a matter of appraisal, of knowing when a chance is the right chance, and having the willpower to let the wrong ones pass silently by.

Yagyuu is good at being patient. But that doesn't mean he likes it.

The first week, it was easy enough to pretend that the avoidance was a consequence of their punishment for the radio tower; Yukimura wanted them apart, and Yukimura's word was as law. But then one week dragged into two, and two crept toward three, and slowly but surely the blissful denial began to fray. No, it wasn't their captain's mandate keeping them apart. No, he knew—and knows—exactly what it was.

But he also knows how this pattern works between them, and that's why he knows the silence won't end until he makes the first move. It's his job to find that perfect chance, to take advantage of it when it comes. I want you to start playing seriously, Niou-kun—that's his responsibility.

And now, at last, it's come time to be serious.

He doesn't bother to hide his approach as he makes his way through the woods, Lady ever-present at his side. There's no reason to bother trying to sneak up on his partner, not at this point. On the contrary, he's fairly certain things will be eventful enough on their own, without any unnecessary theatrics on either of their parts.]

Forgetting where you ought to be looking—it is a common mistake to make.

[ He hears the approach, but he doesn't turn around. There's a small part of him that couldn't possibly be less concerned with whoever that is behind him, but the larger part recognizes that it's probably a teammate or a friend. Either way, there's no reason for alarm until he hears Yagyuu's voice.

Then all he can think about is whatever's kept Yagyuu from talking to him for weeks. The radio tower, the kissing, the groping — and briefly, he wonders if it's not the intimacy, but just the revelation of Niou's questionable fetish.

It doesn't matter what the subject matter, this conversation is not likely to be easy or pleasant, and the guarded edge to his voice and the sudden tension in his stance prove that he knows it. ]

But pretty quickly corrected.

[He steps through the undergrowth as he makes his way closer, not bothering to disguise the slight frown of displeasure on his face as he does so. It'd be comical, almost, if it weren't for the looming aura of grim anticipation hanging over the situation; Yagyuu's almost prissy insistence on perfection contrasted with the wilder, untamed setting of the forest.

And there's probably some kind of metaphor to be had there, but this isn't the time for that, either.

He comes to a stop a short distance from Niou's tree, standing upright rather than claiming one of his own, Lady sitting at his heels to watch Niou's Persian continue her battle. She's supposed to be able to predict the future, Yagyuu muses silently. Does she know a second battle may well be looming on the horizon?]

Assuming one can do it before the advantage is lost. Timing is everything, isn't it, Niou-kun?

[ There's a part of him that wants to tell Yagyuu to get on with it, but he never likes to be the one to break their little games like this, even if he does tend to be. Instead he feigns disinterest and turns a little more attention to the fight as Sudoku dodges an ill-aimed Poison Sting. ]

Stop playin' around.

[ With a chagrined look over her shoulder, Sudoku obediently braces herself and attacks with Power Gem. Her foe doesn't last through the assault.

Clearly expecting praise, the Persian heads back for her trainer, but he's already turning half-away, facing Yagyuu without looking at him. She watches him quizzically for a moment, then approaches Lady, instead. ]

Timin's essential, but I wouldn't say it's everything. There's gonna be some aspects outta your control, even if your timin's perfect.

[Lady, for her part, seems unruffled by Sudoku's approach, still sitting placidly with her usual haughty air, but like her trainer, it's the omissions that speak louder than her actions; she doesn't dismiss the Persian's attention, nor does she show any particular sign of displeasure at her proximity. She knows this one gets special privilege. She belongs to Niou, after all.

Yagyuu, on the other hand, looks just as placid and unruffled, already reading the unspoken signals in his partner's body language, in the cast of his eyes. It's the ideal opening, the mention of perfect timing. It'd be perfectly easy to seize the opportunity, send a passing shot toward that chink in the armor, start off heavy on the offensive. And for most anyone else he would, but this is Niou, and that deserves...consideration.]

Perhaps that's what makes it worthwhile. The challenge of overcoming that which you can't control.

[ Sudoku takes her privilege, in fact. She licks the top of Lady's head once, matter-of-factly, and then sits down beside her to groom her own paws.

Niou doesn't notice. He's busy running Yagyuu's words over and over in his head. Overcoming that which you can't control. That could be fucking anything, could be everything, between the two of them. He's half-sure that Yagyuu still doesn't know exactly what the fuck his problem was when he pushed him away in their room, but the concept still applies. And it applies, too, to the fiasco in the radio tower; Niou's want for violence, his want for Yagyuu, his apprehension and his shame.

There's nothing here that Yagyuu can't control, so far as Niou can tell. He controls Niou just fine. ("Let go or I will.") He's even got control of this situation, and he's holding back, which is minorly frustrating. ]

Easier said than done, for some of us.

And in some cases, never easy.

[They're spiraling out like this, and Yagyuu knows it. The encounter in Violet City, the supposedly private conversation over the Gears, the rehearsal in their room, the radio tower; he feels like a top wobbling on its point, spinning toward the rotation that will finally make it fall. And what he doesn't know is why, what's happened to make it like this. Was it the six months of separation? Is it Kujikawa Rise? Is it him?

Something is wrong, and they're going around in circles, and he doesn't know why. All he knows is that it isn't supposed to be like this, and the thought of losing what it used to be is—terrifying. Abhorrent. Unacceptable.]

Our punishment ended weeks ago. Are you ready to stop avoiding me?

[ There it is, the beginning of honesty, a straight question expecting a straight answer. Niou wants to dodge it reflexively, but instead, he glances away again, studying the too-bright grass of Johto.

Is he ready to stop avoiding Yagyuu? Has the wound from his conversation with Rise healed? More or less. He's done sulking, anyway, he guesses, or at least, he should be. But it takes two to tango — and that's a horrible expression. ]

Are you?

I didn't come out here to watch you train your cat.

[It's another forthright statement, one that's perhaps surprisingly blunt coming from Yagyuu. But playing at words is something reserved for other people, other scenarios, and he's not in the mood to lace his phrases with implication and condescension.

Which is why, when he continues, his words are perhaps the most honest they've ever been since his arrival in Johto.]

When were you going to tell me?

[He could clarify that, but he doesn't. Let Niou pick the issue they most need to address on his own.]

[ Irritation flickers across Niou's face. Honesty is harder to swallow, and he doesn't care to answer Yagyuu's sniping remark, because it's just going to start an argument. He holds his tongue and waits for the annoyance to subside.

He'd have answered the initial question if Yagyuu hadn't asked another one that threw his brain into fifth gear trying to figure it out.

Tell you what? Tell you how much you turn me on? Tell you I'm in love with you?

It's not the first time he's thought it coherently, but it kicks him into silence still. Rise only enters his head again as something he should probably mention, since he doesn't think Yagyuu's aware of it yet.

He knows full well that Yagyuu left the question vague on purpose, so he doesn't ask, just struggles with how to answer for a moment. Finally, still looking elsewhere— ]

What was I gonna say, exactly? 'Hey, I think it'd be cool if you threw me around with our clothes off?'

[ He's afraid the sarcasm, thick as it is, won't be enough to detract from the stark truth of the question. ]

[And to think he'd almost hoped it would've been Rise. That conversation, at least, he thinks he's ready for, as much as anyone could be. But no amount of thinking could possibly make him ready for this one, and even knowing it was potentially coming, the discomfort of hearing the words spoken aloud still manages to set him slightly off-balance.]

As opposed to simply provoking it without saying so?

[That's not fair, and he knows it even before the words have left his mouth, but it doesn't stop him from saying them anyway. He's frustrated—at himself, at his inability to answer why, at the repetition of mistakes and failures that brought them to this point in the first place.]

[ The response stings and Niou's lashing back before he knows for sure if he should. It isn't fair, and now, ten steps removed from the burning shame of the moment itself, he's convinced that it wasn't entirely his fault. ]

Because I was supposed to anticipate you choking me? Y'know, I'm no expert, but I'm pretty sure most guys have a more favourable reaction to getting their balls fondled.

[ And that's not fair, either, because it wasn't any more Yagyuu's fault than his own, and they both know that anticipated or not, Niou was pleased with the reaction he got. ]

Likewise, I'm pretty sure most guys don't fondle their best friends.

[There's an odd sort of cant in his tone, not the smooth vowels and crisp consonants of Yagyuu's usual speech, but something that treads closer to echoing Niou's, instead.]

What were you anticipating would happen?

[ Niou bites his tongue again, and this time it hurts. He wants to argue that it wasn't him, that it was Yuuki who started it, but that toes the dangerously thin line between pretending to be someone else and pretending someone else is in charge — a line Niou endeavours not to cross, because the other side of it is approaching clinical insanity.

So he chooses his words carefully, once he's quelled the sudden burst of temper. His voice is calm and level when he speaks, but there's a sharp edge to it. ]

I was anticipatin' Atobe's response, not yours. I wasn't even after you.

[Yagyuu's loath to be the first to turn away, but the answer stings, perhaps even more deeply than Niou was aiming for when he said it. I wasn't even after you treads perilously close into it wasn't you I wanted, and it's too easy to hear the latter in the implications of the former. And after that bitter discovery of just how alike he and Kujikawa Rise really are, and what Niou saw in her while he was gone—

He grits his teeth and walks, breathing slowly until the sudden bristle of hurt passes and he's in control again.]

Evidently not.

[ He watches Yagyuu with a wondering look ill-concealed by anger. He can tell he cut deeply, and he's sure he knows how, but it's a little surprising, somehow. Wanting to ease the pain but unwilling to yield the fight, he searches for a partial admission, a half-surrender. ]

It wasn't even me doin' the lookin'. You weren't even supposed to be there.

[ There. It's not about you and it's your fault, all at once, and Niou folds his arms, now looking expectant and a shade more sullen. ]

[He stops a short distance away, his back to Niou, and finds a place to fix his gaze, some arbitrary point in the distance that he can focus on while he collects himself. The bait is obvious. He's not taking it.

He doesn't turn around.]

An illusion is still just an illusion, Niou-kun.

[ It's getting away from them, slip-sliding back into oblique answers to vague questions and speaking in proverbs and quotations. It'll be safer there, under cover of too many words, but they won't get anything resolved, and suddenly, standing staring at his partner's back, Niou wants nothing more desperately than a resolution — any resolution. Even a tragic one would at least give him the peace of grief and loneliness. ]

Fine, so let's blame both of us, and leave them out of it. That makes it my fault, right? I still don't know what the fuck you wanted me to say. How could I tell you?

[ He knows the desperation is starting to seep into his voice, but he can't stop it. Maybe, he hopes, it'll prompt Yagyuu to turn around and look at him, even if incredulously or pityingly. ]

You're supposed to be able to tell me anything.

[The words snap out, sharp with frustration and punctuated with gritted teeth. And he does turn around, a little too fast, a little too angry, but he's so sick of this, this uncertainty, this miscommunication, this whatever-it-is that's disrupting the once-perfect balance between them.]

When did that change?

[ The accusation hits him like a punch to the gut; his spine slumps slightly where it's braced against the tree and he exhales. Suddenly, all he can see is the immense wrongness of this scenario — the raised voices, the words that wound too deep, the stumbling steps that brought them here, and worst of all, the fact that it's Niou who's changed.

It has to be, doesn't it? Because he's six months older now, because he's been half a year without half of himself. If anything's changed, it has to be him.

But it wouldn't have happened if Yagyuu had been there. It's Yagyuu's job to be there, all the time, whenever he needs to be, to keep Niou perfect and intact and sharp, not all tangled around himself like he is now. ]

I don't know, maybe sometime between December and June? Maybe somewhere in the six months I've spent dickin' around this place by myself? Maybe when you weren't here to stop it, somethin' changed.

[ He hates the words as soon as they're out there. ]

[And the look that crosses Yagyuu's face in that moment is one that he would never, under normal circumstances, allow to be seen on his face—not quite akin to a deer in the headlights, but the same sort of stunned, abrupt, frozen shock of someone that's just been slapped. He should hide it but he doesn't, for once not because it's Niou but because he can't seem to think of any reason why he ought to, why it should matter. To be perfectly honest, he can't seem to think of anything at all.

"You came just in time, Yagyuu-kun."

No. No, he didn't.]

So you found her instead.

[He can't make himself say, so you found a replacement for me. But he might as well have, and it shows in the way his shoulders fall, in the way he's suddenly aware of each and every breath he takes.]

[ He hates the words, he hates the feeling that they're true, but most of all, he hates the look on Yagyuu's face, the way those shoulders drop, the way every proud line of his posture is suddenly loose. He feels nauseous and there's a pressure in his head, an impending headache, and he wishes he could quit this conversation already, but—

What?

His expression is overtaken by confusion before he can stop it. Her? Who the fuck—

But it's not hard. What other her is there? It has to be Rise, but Niou's not quite sure when they stopped talking about the two of them and started talking about the three of them. (Or, for that matter, when 'the three of them' became a singularity to be discussed.)

He supposes, from where Yagyuu's standing, that he and Rise must have been pretty obvious, but he didn't expect Yagyuu to make an assumption like that, even with all that's gone on between them. It's perhaps further surprising, since Niou's three-week silence has had a lot more to do with his ending things with Rise than with what's happened with Yagyuu.

And that's why, when the shock and bewilderment fade, they're replaced with the irrational sort of anger that spawns from wounds reopening, and especially from ignorant people reopening them. ]

Fuck, Rise? Is that what you're on about? Jesus Christ, this isn't about her! I fuckin' stopped that for you! You've got jack shit to be upset with her for!

No, it's not about her. It's about you. When were you going to tell me? She told me about the two of you. She told me you stopped it. Why am I finding it out from her instead of from you?

[And that's not fair, because he can guess the answer already and understand why Niou did what he did, but he's off and running now and there's no stopping, no suppressing, not this time.]

Is that how much can change in six months? What do you want me to do? I can't make it up to you. I can't change it. I can't do anything if I don't know what you want, and sometimes it's space and other times it's me and—

[...and oh, hell, did he just say that out loud? His shoulders are shaking and it's strange, he can't remember when that started.]

And I know how she got you through those six months. I know what she means to you. You told her. Why can't you tell me?

[ Sometimes it is Yagyuu, these days, and the statement has a profound effect on Niou's anger, stopping it in its tracks. The fact that Yagyuu knows wasn't something that escaped his notice; the first kiss they shared here was enough to prove it to him, but here he is saying it, acknowledging it aloud.

Niou's mouth is dry, but he has to answer. He swallows. It doesn't help. ]

I... I was gonna tell you. [ His voice is weak, like the fluttering in his chest that he figures is his heart. ] Look, I just... it sucked, okay? Droppin' that chance. You don't just bounce back from it. I needed— time.

[ He shifts and refolds his arms, afraid that the trembling in his voice and chest might be getting to his hands by now. ]

You really want me to tell you what she means to me? Or is that all figured out for you now?

She thanked me.

[He wants to step closer but he doesn't, wants to avert his eyes but won't let himself. It isn't about Rise, not really, but that's still something they'll have to release to the open air sooner or later. And it's better this than the anger, the provocation, even if it gives him the odd sensation of feeling like a puppet with his strings cut.]

She found me and she thanked me for getting here in time. For what I do for you.

[He breathes slow, in and out, as much to buy himself time as to make sure his voice doesn't shake.]

But lately it seems like I'm doing more harm than good.

[ He's shaking his head before Yagyuu even finishes the sentence, because that's not right, no, no, no. He stares at his feet, then at the sky as he answers, because he's about to say a lot of things that he never cared to hear given voice. The words come in a rush, some stumbling over each other to get out before he can change his mind. ]

No. Even with her here, it was hell without you. I like her, yeah, but I don't— [ love? He bites the word off, struggles for a second ] — I don't need her. I hated endin' it with her, but I did it because it wasn't fair not to, and because I wanted — want... you, Hiroshi. It's not the same with her, she's not.... I couldn't give you up, not even if I thought I wanted to—

[ He breathes sharply, almost like he'd forgotten to, and exhales, slow and shaky. ]

Look, whatever you're worried about with her, don't. She's not you, she's not enough, she never could be. I'm with you.

[Did he just call him—

It's almost comical, almost, how he nearly misses the entire second half of what Niou says because he's so busy stumbling over the sound of his own name in the otherwise still air. Did Niou call him—did he really just—

"Dumbfounded" is not a word that can often be applied to Yagyuu. This happens to be a rare exception.

But he does, at least, manage to escape the painfully awkward question that begs to be asked, the repetition for confirmation that yes, he really did just call him Hiroshi. And after that moment or three of perplexed, bewildered staring, he finally manages to regroup and find words again.]

The way we've always been? Or do you want more than that?

[He hesitates, instincts protesting this next feat of daring. Where Niou rambles, Yagyuu has to force himself to find every word—and normally he wouldn't, but this time he does.]

What if I want more than that?

[ If Niou had been watching his partner, he might have caught his own slip-up, but he's still searching for pieces of sky through the canopy. Yagyuu's words are almost enough to jar him into looking down again, but he quells the urge. He doesn't want to look at Yagyuu while he answers this.

He unfolds his arms, the trembling in his hands somewhat less, and runs his fingers through his hair, leaving them there as he exhales. ]

... Yeah. Hell yeah, I do, but I— look, it's just— [ The rest of the air in his lungs escapes with an explosive sigh. ] Even just the way we've always been, I... you're... practically my whole... fuckin' world. I guess I just... what if it gets worse, y'know? If we go further and it gets worse, and then maybe I can't even breathe without you anymore, or.... What then?

[ What if you leave me then? ]

Even if it gets worse, will anything really change?

[The time, perhaps, that it takes to fall apart, but it's not as though the eventuality will ever shift. They're this far already, needing each other, and any separation is going to end the same way sooner or later. And not for the first time, Yagyuu catches himself trying to imagine what it would be like if their positions were reversed, if he were the one languishing without Niou. Perhaps in the end he would do better, would maintain resilience longer, but that doesn't mean he wouldn't be just as affected by the absence.

He hates it when he doesn't have answers. And the thought that one of them could leave at any time just makes him hate Johto a little more.]

Whatever happens, we find our way back together. However long it takes.

[ He's right, though, isn't he? Even if Yagyuu left now, Niou would be lost. Maybe it hurts more, faster, but it can't cut any deeper than it already does.

He drops his hands from his head and his eyes from the sky to look at Yagyuu again, his fingers entangling awkwardly in front of himself. He knows he doesn't want to spend all his time holding Yagyuu at arm's length, or wondering what it would be like to be with him, and he knows, too, that either one of them could disappear any day now. Maybe he'll go back home, and Yagyuu will be there like Niou was never gone at all, and that'll be a whole new rift to cross, with this Yagyuu left behind and nine months of Niou that the other one won't understand.

Or maybe Yagyuu will be the one to go, gone one morning when Niou wakes up, and Niou can't even stand the thought. It eats at him the second he lets it enter his mind.

His hands turn over in front of him, releasing, palms up and open in a helpless, entreating gesture, almost like he's afraid to spread his arms out wide. ]

[He's walking forward before he quite realizes it, slow and measured steps that gradually reduce the distance between them. And maybe there's something symbolic in that, too, but he's not in the mood to care, because at the moment all he wants is to bridge the chasm that's been lurking between them for months, the one they've spent half their time ignoring and the other half pretending wasn't really there. He wants them to be partners again, as perfect as they always used to be. He wants that back, even if he can't undo the past to make it so the divide never occurred at all.

Whatever happens will happen. But Niou is the one who taught him how to reach for the things he wants, and perhaps it's only fitting that it's Niou he's reaching for now.]

[ He realizes, as soon as Yagyuu starts toward him, that this is exactly what he was asking for. It's just like Yagyuu, he thinks, to know what Niou wants before he knows it, himself.

Even if it's what he wants, he's not sure what he's going to do once Yagyuu gets close. He wants to touch him, and that's as far as he knows at the moment. So once Yagyuu's within reach, he touches his arm, his shoulder, his cheek, and rests his hand there uncertainly. ]

... Sorry. [ For everything. ]

[He'd flinch if it were anyone else, and somehow that's a satisfying realization as the fingertips glance over his limbs—that only Niou can do this with impunity, and moreover, that Niou knows he can.

And so he pauses there, just barely skirting the edge of Niou's personal space, and reaches up to cover his partner's hand with his own.]

Don't hide from me again. You don't have to.

[ Niou nods a little, almost imperceptibly, and lowers his head. He's not hiding, and if Yagyuu wants his eyes on him, which won't surprise Niou, he'll oblige. He's just tired, now that the adrenaline is washing away, and Yagyuu's shoulder looks safe and inviting. He draws closer, slowly, and presses his face to the curve of Yagyuu's neck.

It's familiar in some ways — he's memorized the scent of Yagyuu, the hard line of his shoulders, the angle of his jaw — and in others, completely foreign. They don't often come this close, touch this much, but Niou isn't complaining. He exhales softly. ]

I haven't changed that much. We're okay.

We'll figure out the rest of it.

[The words are gentle, but the implication is firm; they're not through the woods yet (despite standing in them at the moment), and there's still plenty more that hasn't been settled between them. Contenting themselves with this much would only be a temporary solution, and Yagyuu knows it, and quite frankly he never, never wants to spend an afternoon like this again.

He tips his head a little, nudging down to rest against Niou's. It's strangely fine just like this, he thinks, acutely aware of the sensation of breath on his neck and the light tickle of the tips of Niou's hair. His free hand slides over Niou's arm and around, fingertips making small circles near his spine.]

When did you start calling me Hiroshi?

[ No, it's not over yet, and Niou sighs again, quietly, at the reminder. It'd be nice to just stay like this, and then walk home together, maybe brushing hands because Niou doesn't want to be the one to try to hold hands, until somehow, by accident or design, their fingers get entangled and they wind up doing it anyway.

But no, Yagyuu wants to talk some more. And about really dumb shit, too.

Niou tenses a little when Yagyuu comes to the next order of business, but it dissipates quickly. Stupid to be embarrassed about it, really. They know each other inside and out, but Niou can't call him by his given name? He's known for a long time that Yagyuu wouldn't mind. ]

God, ages ago, I don't know. Got worse while you were gone, though. [ There's a quiet laugh in his voice at the realization. ]

And to think, I was just starting to get used to Yeaaaahgyuu.

[The vague amusement in his tone is unmistakable, a warm echo of Niou's. Dumb shit or not, they're talking. It's something they haven't done nearly enough of lately.]

Should I return the favor?

[ Now he's hiding, a bit, because he's almost grinning at that drawling name. ]

Guess that's up to you.

[ Niou's not arguing, anyway. He'd be lying if he denied wondering what his name would sound like out of Yagyuu's mouth. ]

Once couldn't hurt.

[He tests the syllables a moment, then lets them fall over his tongue, yet again adding a hint of a drawl over each one.]

Masaharu.

[ Okay, so he's never imagined it sounding quite that nice. He rolls his shoulders a little to stave off a shiver. ]

... Probably a few times wouldn't hurt, either, just in case you were wonderin'.

[ He draws back, then, not out of reach, but to lean against the tree again. His hands drift and come to rest somewhat tentatively on Yagyuu's hips. ]

[It's tempting to let his eyes flicker down to those hands, as faintly uncertain as Niou is tentative, but instead he turns his gaze to his partner's eyes, looking for confirmation of an unspoken question.]

I think you'd enjoy that a bit too much.

[As he proceeds to give Niou a smile that somehow manages to be equal parts gentle and smug.]

[ When Yagyuu doesn't protest or pull away, Niou settles his hands more firmly where they're at, relaxing a little and actually laughing. ]

Guilty. No one calls me that, you know.

[ Even his family doesn't do it without honourifics, and the one time Renji tried, Niou made it unquestionably clear that he wasn't welcome to. This is a privilege, Yagyuu. ]

[And being like this is all right, too, slow and relaxed and devoid of that fervent urgency that tended to color so many of their previous encounters—and maybe this is even slightly better still, because this time they're themselves as they do it.]

All the more reason why I should use it sparingly. You'll appreciate it more if it's a rare occurrence.

[ He sighs for dramatic effect this time, tipping his head back against the tree. ]

You're the sweetest sadist I've ever met.

[For a fleeting moment, he almost wants to remark on that, as the sight of Niou's head tipped back and the mention of sadism calls back memories of the night in the radio tower. But no, this moment is too precious to risk spoiling with that thought, and so he lets it slide away for the moment, playing along with easy banter instead.]

Don't spread it around. That's harmful to my reputation in more ways than one.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

i think i'm scared; i think too much

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject