#⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴅɪɴɢ ᴅᴏɴɢ; ʙɪɴɢ ʙᴏɴɢ: ᴀ ʙᴏᴅʏ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴅɪꜱᴄᴏᴠᴇʀᴇᴅ! ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

[not-bcring]

✧   「   @wrinkled-sheets-and-sunlight   」   ✧  - Continued from ★  

「 ☆ 」 What happened with Gundham was a one-time mistake... Overly-horny impulse that doesn't count. If one were to ask ❛ count for what? ❜ — which they never would because no one can EVER KNOW —Kazuichi would ( hypothetically ) respond with a curt ❛ everything ❜ . It doesn't count as gay. Gundham had assured him so, insisting Kazuichi's sexually would remain intact. So he merely thinks of it as... not sex but— relief. Maybe even practice, for when he finds a girl he would like to be intimate with.

Granted, Kazuichi had been the submissive one in the encounter... but some girls can be dominant! Although, not exactly what he should be looking for and if he WAS pegged, he'd have to keep that a secret too. For his masculinity's sake. But still... it's plausible. A reason he can turn to whenever his mind screams at him. Asking WHY he offered his virginity to Gundham of all people. Why he felt the urge in the first place. Frankly, it'd be easier to ignore the shame gnawing at his guts if Gundham wouldn't hang around him so much. It's a lot harder to insist their night together meant nothing when it seems to have changed shifted their dynamic.

It almost feels like Gundham is mocking him. Trying to make him feel uncomfortable. Remind him of what they did while still acting as though it never happened. Something Kaz has wanted to call the breeder out on but refrains from. Scared of what it may bring. Unsure if he's more apprehensive of angering the larger man or being proven wrong. A decision that is harder to stick to when he feels Gundham's eyes upon him while he's working. Fervently trying to ignore it, movements are clumsier than usual... Not by much. Not nearly enough to hinder the work of the Ultimate Mechanic, but glaringly obvious to Kazuichi.

Patience wearing thinner by the moment ( tightness in his chest and heat pumping through his veins that nearly makes his head hurt ) , by the time some stranger was bothering Gundham— seriously, did they not notice the breeder's obvious discomfort or did they just not CARE? —Kaz was in no mood for subtlety. However instead of being thanked ( or better yet, the situation ignored completely ) Gundham had the gall to tease taunt him for it. So can Kazuichi be blamed if his response was sort of snippy? Or if he felt the heat in his chest rise to his face in what he chooses to pretend is frustration instead of confusing discomfort.

Tensing bristling as his jumpsuit is toyed with— the echoing memory of its zipper teeth slowly clicking down playing in his mind —Kaz stumbles back a step as if burned from the indirect contact. A weak sound gets caught in his throat, attempting to be a scoff but dangerously-close to a whine. ❝ Why are you here? ❞ Deflecting the question with another, pink hues warily study Gundham like a cornered animal. Lightly fidgeting in place, he toys with the sleeves the other had touched. Grease-stained hands twisting the garish yellow as he spats out against his will, ❝ I fixed your car like- hours ago... What are you still doing here? ❞

Besides watching him like a hawk... Swallowing thickly, he abruptly becomes VERY aware of the feeling of filth on his face. Too far away from any rags he could use, he takes off his beanie and haphazardly wipes at the stains. All he succeeds in doing is smudging the mark and then remembering his shitty hair. Cheeks blossoming a pink to match the messily-cut locks— sticking out at odd angles in a thick and unruly display —he hastily covers them back up, tugging down the garment and not letting go. ❝ If you're just here to— I dunno, laugh at me or something- then... ❞

Then what? Just leave? As if Kaz could enforce that demand... Growling under his breath, gaze averts as he manages to feel even more pathetic. Sweaty and gross and stained by work ( the manual labor of a glorified handyman ) and— ❝ I get it. I'm a mess. I'm a big fucking mess and it's probably soooooo hilarious and you're probably having so much fun watching me do my stupid pointless job— ❞ It's not like being the ❛ Ultimate Breeder ❜ . He's not saving endangered species or taming wild beasts. His work could be tended to by anyone with a decent amount of know-how... At least, that's what Kaz has always told himself. What he can't help but convey to Gundham, words tumbling out in a self-depreciating spiral.

Blinking back tears built up from a week of bottled-up confusion frustration, shoulders hunch and beanie is tugged down as if a shield against being seen as he bitterly spats through a breaking voice, ❝ So sorry we can't ALL be Gundham fucking Tanaka. ❞ Someone important and self-assured and cool and manly and... and with a million better things he could be doing. Places he could be. People he could be with. So why— Why is Gundham here? Why won't Gundham just leave him alone. 「 ☆ 」

[not-bcring]

「 ☆ 」 Kanade, perceptive as she may be— capable of picking apart most people at a glance: to build or break as she sees fit —doesn’t catch the veiled meaning in Braidyn’s words. Doesn’t so much as blink as he tries to fix an assumed mistake. Instead, blinded by her certainty that she knows her friend— how could she not? they became a pair when they were SIX —she takes what he says at face value. Thinking Braidyn incapable of keeping secrets. At least, when it comes to her… He does hate to be alone and she had the good fortune of happening to be the only other kid there when he was.

It had been a shock, to say the least. When Braidyn first came over. All oversized clothes and oversized curls and an oversized charisma that immediately put Kanade on edge. Certain this boy was trying to steal her sister. Ready to do whatever was needed to keep that from happening. Luckily for both of them, Braidyn wasn’t disappointed to hear that Hibiki wasn’t home ( the older twin spending the night at a friend’s house, where the ❛ no boys allowed ❜ policy confidently kept Kanade at bay ) . If anything, he seemed excited about it. Maybe because it meant they were both left on their own. Maybe because… it meant they could both choose not to be.

Regardless of the reason, whenever he came over after that day— he sought out her. Even when she changed over time, no longer feeling the need to hide behind false modesty or a demure demeanor… Growing more confident, wariness giving way to warmth and a genuine care. Braidyn didn’t mind the changes. Embraced and encouraged them all. Even when it meant Kanade didn’t act as ❛ nice ❜ as she used to. Letting some of the uglier parts of her show, yet never aimed toward Braidyn. She doesn’t know who she’d be without him. She doesn’t want to know.

At least even if he decides to cast her aside… he’s changed her enough to where she never WILL know.

Much like how she doesn’t know if Braidyn genuinely got the ball from her or if she let him… That’s the issue with constantly repressing her abilities; lest her poor inferior sister ever be shafted to the side. It becomes natural as breathing, Kanade unable to fully trust herself when it comes to failure. A dizzying concept… Sabotaging without intention. Having molded herself to fit such an undeserved role. Choosing to believe Braidyn reclaimed the ball of his own merit— for both their sakes —she shakes off the brief bout of uncertainty, not wanting it to tarnish what needs to be savored.

She laughs as though nothing is wrong and tries to believe, at least in the moment, that nothing is. Tensing her body as she waits to see whether Braidyn initiates a game with the basketball or simply stole it back as a tease. ❝ Shhhhhhhhhit... ❞ She hisses through her teeth, a drawn-out sound as she recalls her bag left abandoned on her bedroom floor. Too swept up in worries, she had left it behind in her rush to force herself out the door. ❝ I forgot it at home... I was so distracted by how late I was running, I guess I never grabbed it. ❞ She lightly complains, before huffing out a breath and shrugging with an ❛ what can you do ❜ smile.

❝ I can always get it later. ❞ She decides, figuring it may be for the best. Should Braidyn end up deciding he'd rather she NOT stay the night, it'll be a lot less embarrassing to leave without lugging an overnight bag with her. 「 ☆ 」

Kanade is gorgeous. Braidyn never knows what to do about that.

He's tried to just not think about it, or to rationalize it enough that it doesn't bother him, but it never works. After all, Braidyn has other friends who are good looking. Abraham is sorta pretty for a boy, even though Braidyn would never say it for fear of making him... what's the phrase again? Dis-something. The one where he feels bad about being trans and starts wearing more hoodies for a few weeks. Limp Dick is kinda cute, too, just not so cute that Braidyn ever really thinks about it.

But Kanade? Kanade is pretty in the way the love interest in a movie is pretty. Soft lighting, slow motion, only-other-person-there-even-in-a-crowded-room pretty.

He's also Braidyn's best friend. And a guy. And Braidyn Shapiro doesn't like guys. He spends way too much time in locker rooms feeling nothing about his teammates' bodies to like guys.

So when Kanade manages to steal the ball despite being way shorter than Braidyn, there's no time to waste staring at the way his bangs fall across his face or to bask in his smile. No. Braidyn has to stay in the moment, which means letting the moments pass far too quickly.

"Of course I missed you too much."

Stop. Rewind. Those aren't the kinds of things he can be saying.

"I mean, come on. If I missed you at all it would be too much. You know how much I hate being alone."

That much is true. It's one of the unfortunate side effects of having had Kale as a built in companion for most of his life. Braidyn hates being alone. It's a small part of the reason he and Kanade got so close back in first grade- the torture of just sitting alone with nothing to do would always motivate Braidyn to ask the kid down the street to hang out. And since Kale left for college, Kanade has been doing overtime to fill the void. Thank G-d for that.

He lunges for the ball and misses. That wouldn't normally happen. It's because it's Kanade. Braidyn always seems to get clumsier around him. He lunges again, and this time he gets the ball.

"You're still staying over, right? Cause I don't see an overnight bag."

[not-bcring]

"Hey! You're b-back!" Seto cheered upon seeing a familiar cap peek through the tent's curtain. Hiding lashes that had yet to heal behind the wall of his tank, the merman just barely poked over. "I th-thought Ikuto would've scared you off for good." ( Some Mer!Seto for MerMay! ) - ✧ ˖ ˙ 「 @nickelsdrocs 」 ˙ ˖ ✧

「 ☆ 」 Shuichi had been skeptical of the circus's claims, as any self-respecting scientist would be. How else could he respond to boisterous claims of a ❛ real ❜ mermaid on display? However, despite this disbelief, Shuichi couldn't pass up the opportunity to investigate for himself. Because an openness to the unknown— to the unbelievable —is crucial for one of make advances in their field. He wouldn't have gotten as far as he has if it weren't for his insatiable thirst for knowledge, and his uncanny ability to shed personal bias in favor of unfiltered truths.

So, expecting nothing and hoping for everything, he had snooped around a bit more than most guests would or are allowed to. Stumbling across one of the greatest discoveries of his life... and one of the nicest. Unfortunately, their conversation— ripe with curiosity and information to share on BOTH ends —had been unceremoniously cut short. Dragged away by a man who was NOT pleased by him bothering the mermaid... and had left some nasty bruises on Shuichi's arm thanks to the harshness of his grip. A small price to pay ( and hardly the worst he's experienced ) .

A lesser man would have taken the blatant threat that followed hint and stayed away... But curiosity is a powerful thing. As is that strange sense of right that had struck when he started conversing with the mermaid. An ease and acceptance he's been robbed in life. Could anyone really blame Shuichi for wanting to experience it again? Besides, he was concerned about the other male's well-being. After getting roughly handled by Ikuto, he needed to know the extent of trouble Seto had gotten into thanks to his snooping... Hopefully it wasn't too much.

Shushing Seto with a finger to his lips, he quickly looks around to ensure no one else is aware of his arrival. He can't risk being caught again. Satisfied that the coast is clear, he hastily makes his way over to the tank with a relieved smile. Part of him had thought Seto might not be there anymore. ❝ I don't blame you. Ikuto is a rather- intimidating man... ❞ He replies with a light chuckle, a bit of lingering nervousness tinging what was meant to be a casual sound. Marks on his arm throb as if in agreement, hidden beneath his long sleeve. ❝ But I couldn't resist the opportunity to see you again. ❞ It's not as though the circus will be here forever...

Tilting his head, brim of his hat angles to allow a peek of a golden eye. A bit of brightness shining through the shield and curtains of dark... Not much, but more than most get from the anxious male. ❝ I uh... I also wanted to apologize. I didn't intend to cause you any trouble. ❞ Slim brows furrow, smile slipping as he worriedly inquires, ❝ Was he... upset with you? ❞ There's an unwitting heaviness in those words. The concern of someone who has experienced witnessed what people are capable of when ❛ upset ❜ with someone... and who isn't naive enough to believe that cruelty wouldn't extend to the ones under a person's care. 「 ☆ 」

[not-bcring]

Daisuke pulled Ayumu into his lap as soon as they were in the secrecy of Ayumu's own room. Kissing his cheeks, lips, ears, and everywhere he could reach, he said, "I'm sorry I couldn't give you the attention you deserved during game night. I wanted to so badly... I just couldn't. You're not mad at me, are you?" ( Time for some wreckage to make up for not giving him attention earlier. ) - ✧ ˖ ˙ 「 @ncughty-uwu 」 ˙ ˖ ✧

「 ☆ 」 As soon as they were away from prying eyes, Ayumu knew that his boyfriend's demeanor would change... One of the realities of being in a secret relationship, affection not able to be easily given. However, this time, he wasn't sure if the switch would be for the better. Not that he thought Daisuke would ever be CRUEL or dangerous toward him. But no one is immune to frustration and it wouldn't be outside of Daisuke's rights to snap at him for the events of the day.

So imagine Ayumu's surprise when he's tugged onto his partner's lap and covered with an abundance of kisses... and an apology.

Relief battles with guilt, weighing heavily in his stomach as he cups Daisuke's face in his hands and offers a smile. Genuine in that his boyfriend deserves it but hiding an underlying worry, no matter how much Ayumu tries to mask it. ❝ Of course I'm not mad at you, honey... I understand why you couldn't and— you didn't need to. You're not required to shower me with attention all the time. ❞ Even if their games oftentimes beg to differ. ❝ And especially not when there's other people around. ❞

Not until Daisuke is ready.

❝ Honestly? ❞ He begins, smile faltering... before it slips entirely, ❝ I... thought you might be mad at me. ❞ Hands fall from Daisuke's face to lightly grip his shirt instead, gaze following them. ❝ I know I can be... a lot, and I— ... With my reputation, it's— strange if I don't, y'know... When people offer for me to do things like- sit in their laps or... I just— ❞ Grimacing as he fumbles over his words and the nausea in his stomach, cheeks flush with shame. ❝ I don't like having to ignore you sometimes because others want my attention... ❞

If he wasn't such a— ... If people weren't so quick to hone in on him, he could offer more secret affection to Daisuke. Instead of having to drape himself over other guys so no one would question why Ayumu was turning down the affection he very vocally claims he deserves and clearly WANTED.

Green hues flit up to meet Daisuke's eyes, Ayumu swallowing thickly, ❝ Having a secret relationship is already hard enough... being in one with me must be— ... ❞ Even worse. ❝ ... I'm- sorry. For making things more difficult for you. ❞ 「 ☆ 」

[not-bcring]

"I already told you. I didn't steal your phone, so I don't have it," Seto called down as he heard footsteps approaching the tree he was lounging in, not even bothering to open his eyes. He probably should have, as he would've seen that the other was not the Aikido girl come to badger him about her missing phone. (First meeting between Seto and Shuichi, go!) - ✧ ˖ ˙ 「 @ɴɪᴄᴋᴇʟꜱᴅʀᴏᴄꜱ 」 ˙ ˖ ✧

「 ☆ 」 Shuichi is accustomed to being dragged into whatever mysteries— or more often ❛ squabbles ❜ —plague his classmates. Not that he minds it, mostly. It’s flattering they put so much trust into his skills, viewing him as their best chance of getting answers or justice. Being literally strong-armed into assisting Tenko with her phone problem is proof that she sees him as capable. Even if her comment about how she’d prefer to have Kyoko Kirigiri handling matters lessened the sentiment. As did the offhanded remark about how unfortunately, she could never force another girl to have to ❛ deal with that insufferable headache ❜ .

The headache in question apparently referring to the Ultimate Phantom Thief. A bit obvious of a suspect but Shuichi refuses to let himself be biased. Reality doesn’t follow the tropes of mystery novels, after all. Even if it can adhere to a surprising amount. Not willing to lean towards guilt OR innocence before he could gather all the facts, Shuichi had asked for all the relevant information Tenko could give in regards to her missing phone. No detail was too small.

❛ No detail ❜ ended up being the theme of the interrogation.

Eventually growing tired of his classmate’s repeated insistence that Seto was to blame and utter refusal to offer anything else, Shuichi had wearily thanked her for her… cooperation before going to find the only other lead he had. It wasn’t difficult to track down the notorious thief, onlookers more than happy to offer the last place they had seen him. It seemed like everyone was waiting with baited breath for his alleged reign of terror to catch up to him… Stuffing down the twinge of unease at how disappointed everyone would undoubtedly be if they knew he was looking for a statement and not confession— let alone retribution —Shuichi said his thanks yet again, before arriving at the tree.

Startled but honestly grateful at Seto breaking the silence before he was forced to, Shuichi makes a mental note on a the thief’s assumption as well as this body language. So, Tenko hadn’t been exaggerating about how she already prodded at Seto for the phone. Nor about how dismissive the other was... Interesting. Pulling down the brim of his hat, golden hues trail up the length of the trunk until they see a leg dangling over a branch. Easing his way a bit higher, he stops just shy of Seto’s face. Allowing the brim to obscure the theif, Shuichi knows that he’s losing valuable insight one can only get by observing someone’s face. But considering the low-stakes of the case— this is a missing phone not a murder investigation —he figures he can try to avoid unnecessary additional stressors.

❝ Actually, I’m here on behalf of Miss Tenko Chabashira. ❞ He begins, slipping into his professional demeanor. Tone steadier than it would be were this a casual visit, Shuichi gives a small, polite nod; still discreetly avoiding eye contact, his own face veiled by ebony bangs and his hat, ❝ My name is Shuichi Saihara, and I was hoping you could provide some insight on the Missing Phone Case. The information I currently have is... limited, and I was told you may be able to tell me more about the incident. ❞ Even if he can't or refuses to, Shuichi can still get a feel for whether he knows more than he's willing to let on. 「 ☆ 」

[not-bcring]

「 ☆ 」 Makoto exhales so hard with relief that he fears his legs may give out from underneath him. Unimposing form trembles at the action, the pound of his heart more prominent now that it’s not overpowered with waves of panic. Not that he’s anything CLOSE to calm. But there’s a notable release of tension in the frayed thread keeping him together. It’s remarkable how even the threat of death looming overhead can become a preferable option. So long as the other choice is someone being practically promised a demise within mere moments…

Grimacing at the unintentional internal accusation— he doesn’t know for SURE that Sayaka had any ill intent —he tries to push aside any other assumptions. All he has to work with is circumstantial evidence and a strange feeling in his gut. MAYBE if he were an Ultimate Detective, there would be more worth in those. But he’s only a Lucky student. A lottery winner. About as special as the everyday person who gets a few dollars off a scratch ticket. Despite silently downplaying what brought him to this course of action, Makoto doesn’t regret stopping Leon for a second. Paranoid as he’s hopefully being, he’d rather be safe than— … Well, it never hurts to be safe. A single day delay of Leon’s plans won’t hurt.

Somber as the air might be, there’s victory in it nonetheless…

Glancing down with a wince at how defeated Leon sounds, he awkwardly tugs at his hoodie strings. Even though he’s potentially saved Leon’s life, a twinge of bitterness sits in Makoto’s stomach at being the bearer of such bad news. ❝ Um... Kuwata? ❞ He tentatively begins, green hues flitting upward to look at his... friend? Maybe that's too strong of a word. One-sided friend. Classmate, even if it's not in the way either of them expected. ❝ You know, even if things don't work out with Sayaka— Not that I think they won't! I'm sure they will! But uh... If they don't.... ❞

❝ I bet you'll succeed in changing your talent anyway. And even if you don't become big enough to qualify as an Ultimate— you'll still be a musician, right? ❞ Growing more certain in his words, Makoto offers something that seems just as impossible considering the circumstances... a smile. A genuine, well-meaning smile. ❝ Luck has nothing to do with it. It's all on you... and I think you're going to do great. ❞ 「 ☆ 」

not-bcring​:

「 ☆ 」   Breathing is easier said than done. Makoto honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he never remembered how to properly breathe ever again. Feeling as if the walls are closing in around him, Makoto goes from a promise to protect Sayaka to an internal promise to protect Leon from her too. Which is way more pressure than he signed up for… and might not even be necessary. He could easily be overreacting and as he debates whether it’d be lucky for his heart to give out and release him from the situation, Makoto is certain he hopes he is. Guilt-ridden as that would make him feel, it’d be a lot less complicated than having his friends— … friends?

Classmates. Than having his classmates already at each others throats.

At least Leon seems to be handling the vague news better than Makoto is at giving it. Trying to steady his breathing like Leon kindly suggested, the poor soul manages to get it somewhat under control, before he’s suddenly sent into another sputtering spiral. Fluffing up like a startled feline, waving hands and flushed face does little to sway suspicion as he blurts,  ❝  Wh-What? No! No, no, no, no, no, NO— No, of course not!  ❞  Feeling as if he may have said a couple ‘ no ’s too many, Makoto grimaces and tugs his hoodie strings,  ❝  I mean— That honestly never crossed my mind. N-Not that it would matter if it did— which it didn’t —because Sayaka wouldn’t be interested in someone like me. She made that pretty clear earlier.  ❞  

Unaware of how confusing those statements may be, Makoto averts his gaze behind himself toward the empty hallway where his dorm room is. Trusting that Leon wouldn’t try anything while his attention is elsewhere, the possibility doesn’t even cross the smaller student’s mind.  ❝  I don’t think… I can swap talents.  ❞  He awkwardly muses, hands fidgeting with his hoodie,  ❝  I mean, it’s not like I really have a ‘ talent ’ to begin with. I’m just… lucky. And right now, I’m not feeling very lucky at all, y’know?  ❞  

Keep reading

“Woah, okay, okay, I get it, I had the wrong idea!”

Jesus, this guy was gonna work himself into a panic attack if he didn’t calm down. Although there were a few points between his bouts of panicking that did shift Leon’s mood from confused to concerned.

What did he mean Sayaka hadn’t mentioned that she was meeting up with someone? It could be a lie—

—no, it couldn’t. Makoto was clearly hiding something, but at the same time, it was obvious that his words still held some truth behind them. Especially the idea of him helping someone; Leon might’ve only known him for a short while, but the guy oozed some sort of ‘I just want to help everyone as much as I can’ trustworthy vibe. Like a really loyal dog, or something.

No, Makoto wasn’t lying. At least not in any malicious sense.

And if he wasn’t lying about Sayaka, and Sayaka hadn’t bothered to tell him about Leon visiting her later in the evening—

Damn it.

“Visit her in the morning, huh?” he said, exhaling a miserable breath. “You know what…maybe that’s not a bad idea.”

Damn it all to fucking Hell. “Guess we’re both stuck with our original ultimate talents for another night, huh?” His attempt at a joke was weak, and he pressed a hand to the back of his head. “Or…maybe longer than that.”

Longer than that, if his suspicions about Sayaka’s plans turned out to be true. Maybe it was a sign that he really was doomed to be known as the baseball guy for the rest of his life. Maybe it was a sign that Makoto’s luck was slacking for both of them.

Maybe it was a sign that he was just a massive fucking idiot who nearly walked himself into the end of someone’s knife.

“Can’t lie, Naegi, I’m not exactly feeling lucky myself…”

[not-bcring]

✩ 「 @nickelsdrocs​ 」 ✩ - Continued from ★

「 ☆ 」 Caught in his clever ruse, Ayumu doesn't even try to deny it. Why should he? His intentions are more than justified, considering how reluctant Daisuke is to share about or even admit the existence of, the unhappiness intertwined in his life. Like silken threads, nearly-invisible but STRONG. Pulling on the other man, preventing him from doing what he wants. Even when Daisuke does allow himself to indulge— Ayumu would consider his mere company a bit of indulgence, since it'd be far less trouble for Daisuke to steer clear of the pink instigator —Ayumu still sees the effects of those strings. Digging into flesh as Daisuke resists, the other man appearing to be holding himself back as well. As if he knows that if he pushes too far, he could be sliced through completely. A scary fate, for anyone to face.

That doesn't deter Ayumu from thinking he SHOULD face it. Whether Daisuke breaks or the strings do, is yet to be seen. Either way, he can't keep existing the way he has been. Bleeding, unseen by others but unmistakably felt. Part of Ayumu insists that he's projecting onto Daisuke. Putting feelings in the chest of his unwitting peer, stirring up problems for someone who doesn't deserve them. All to make himself feel less alone; Ayumu's threads still entangled around his limbs, cutting like razor wire that he's learned to ignore. The pain only registering when he talks to—

But that's neither here nor there.

Daisuke may be able to untangle himself from whatever is holding him back from being his true self. He at least deserves to TRY. If that comes about thanks to a childish game of ❛ Truth or Dare ❜ then so be it. Meeting Daisuke's unimpressed stare with one of his own, he crosses his arms and quirks an unashamed brow. ❝ Well, if you would answer questions without the game, then I wouldn't need to do things like this. ❞ He haughtily retorts, firmly standing by his study-session ruse. Even though he DOES desperately need to make a dent on the pile of homework still languishing on his desk. But finding solutions to those problems are so boring... and not nearly as important as the tight-lipped problem sitting beside him.

Pouting at Daisuke's verbal maneuvering— he should have expected as much —Ayumu rolls his eyes with a scoff, but the playful shove against the other's side and amused smirk tugging at his lips take the sting out of his reaction. ❝ You KNOW that's not what I meant! ❞ Ayumu scolds, laughter lacing the light complaining, ❝ But fine, whatever... I suppose that answer counts. But barely. ❞ Leaning a bit closer, he pokes Daisuke's chest ( half-lidded gaze and purred tone a bit of subtle revenge for ruining his clever ploy ) and teases, ❝ I'll get a real answer out of you next time, just you wait~ ❞

Moving back, he crosses one leg over the other and straightens his back. Spine a bit arched and a hand resting against his chest, he chipperly says, ❝ Alright, now it's my turn. So I'll show you how it's actually done... because I choose truth~ ❞ 「 ☆ 」

[not-bcring]

"You know, I always thought I knew wh-what I wanted and that I always got what I wanted. And then, everything I th-th-thought I wanted blew up in my face," Seto said hesitantly, eyes glancing between Shuichi and somewhere in the sky as if the clouds had written what he wanted to say. "N-nothing is like what I thought it was, including you."

"I'm realizing everything I thought I wanted was just what others told me I should want." What Ikuto told him he should want. "It was just what I needed to do to feel safe, feel like I had a home and someone who loved me. And some... some..  some part of me still feels that way. Like my body or my talent is the only reason someone would ever care about me, and that's okay as long as I get what I want!" He can feel the tears welling up in his eye, tears he thought had dried up a long time ago.

"B-b-but I don't even know if I can tell what I want anymore!... Except for one thing." Straightening up, he looked the other directly in the eye now as he took a few steps forward. He took the detective's hands in his. "Through all the confusion and doubt, I know I want one thing. I want you, and I want you to want me just as much. Not just sexually, but more than that."

With that, he took one final step forward into Shuichi's space, leaning to be close enough to feel his breath on his lips but never allowing them to touch, and he whispered teasingly, "But also, very sexually."

(Seto finally has an answer to Shuichi's confession after being freed. nickelsdrcocs or naughtydr depending on where you wanna take this.)

-  ✩   「 @naughtydr​ 」   ✩  

「 ☆ 」   It’s been a taxing few weeks for all of them. Emotionally and mentally draining, Shuichi struggling to keep his head above water while wave upon wave crashed over. People breathing down his neck, clawing at his reputation— rushing at the chance to bring down the renowned detective —and throwing anything they can at him to make things more difficult. They know. He KNOWS they do. At the very least, highly suspect Shuichi hasn’t been entirely forthcoming about the facts of the case and the mysterious massacre involved. 

But he hadn’t budged. If anything, he dug his heels in more firmly. Dirtied his hands further with ‘ information ’ he had tucked away ( precisely for moments like this ) about superiors, fellow investigators, anyone and everyone who posed a risk to him or anyone he was protecting. He wasn’t upfront about it. Never giving specifics. Never giving them anything they could use to incriminate him. Not that he can entirely stop the backlash of blackmail. But he knows. And they know... And no one else has to.

And... it’s worth it. Whatever he has to do is worth is, so long as it helps Seto.

Uncertain why the other man had wanted to meet him, Shuichi’s nerves had been going awry since he first received the message. Wondering what had gone wrong, what he had missed, what he needed to fix... Quick mind had thrown a million scenarios his way, each one more nauseating than the last. But reality was NOTHING like he had expected. Shuichi had tried so hard to keep from dwelling on his confession to Seto— not that it worked —that he hadn’t let himself even consider that he’d ever get a response to it.

But now, with the last lights of day streaming away to welcome the solemn night, he is.

As Seto speaks, Shuichi feels a weight in his chest, suffocating him with its familiarity. More than aware of what it can be like to not have safety guaranteed. To need to accept certain- realities... just to ensure a home and someone willing to give it to him. To feel cared about, even if it’s in a way that doesn’t feel entirely right. At least it’s SOMETHING. At least they can be considered something. To have people telling them what is best. To believe it. To NEED to. Because if they don’t... That just brings even more confusion and even more pain.

Feeling like their worth lies in what they can provide, and not who they are.

Overcome with an urge to wipe away Seto’s tears, he manages to keep his hands to himself, not wanting to make any unwanted contact. It’s hard though. Resisting the urge to touch him. Hug him. When Seto grabs his hands, Shuichi’s breath catches in his chest, wide eyes glossed over with tears he hadn’t wanted to shed. Trembling, his hands hold onto the other man’s, Shuichi shakily exhaling as he finds himself unable to break away from Seto’s gaze. He wants him... Seto wants him. He actually wants him? Heart pounding in his chest, he can barely hear Seto’s words over its internal racing... but he still hears them.

Tensing at the tease, he should have expected it, gaze briefly flits down to Seto’s lips. So close and yet keeping their distance. Letting Shuichi have that small shred of comfort. Skin flushed with a heat that doesn’t stay on his face where it belongs, Shuichi shakily swallows and tries to speak through light breaths. But words fail... Only able to be forced out when he tears his eyes away, looking to the side, watching the colors that have overtaken the sky,  ❝  I... I know what it’s- like... to feel your only worth comes from what you can- ... give people.  ❞  Hold on Seto’s hands grows a bit tighter, as if reassuring them both that it’s actually there.  ❝  But you... You don’t make me feel that way. You make me feel like- ... I’m enough.  ❞  

❝  Not my talent. Not my looks... Just- me.  ❞

Tongue flits across his lips, Shuichi swallowing a lump in his throat,  ❝  I trust you... and- ... I want you. All of you.  ❞  Colors fading into night, they reflect against ebony hair, illuminating the Detective with the final touches of day. Retreating in on himself, hair starts to further fall across his uncertain expression, a silken curtain that golden hues peek through as Shuichi looks back at Seto. Words quieter, he admits despite the unease settling in his gut,  ❝  And I want you to have me too... In- every way.  ❞  Honestly? He’s scared.

He’s so, so scared... 

But there will also never be a better moment to take this chance. Seto wants him. Really wants him. Than to TRY. If he can’t give himself to Seto- if he can’t... make good on his word. Prove that he trusts him. When will he ever be able to? He has to. Meekly looking at Seto, Shuichi can’t bring himself to say anything else. Gaze pleading for the other man to understand, for him to somehow make things alright, he just waits to see if Seto was serious about his words. Or if it was merely another tease, same as all the others. Did he mess this moment up?

Please, let him not mess this up.   「 ☆ 」 

[not-bcring]

Laying in one of the many trees on campus like a cat taking a nap on its back, Seto caught movement out of the corner of his eye as someone approached. A smirk appeared on his lips upon recognizing the poor soul, and he called down, "Now, what do I, lowly thief I am, owe the pleasure of basking in the presence of the Great Ultimate Detective? Surely, nothing I've done could be worthy of your attention."

As he spoke, he removed the navy cap resting on his head to wave around, the very same cap he had swiped from said detective that morning. (Seto wants to be a drama queen for you and Shuichi.)

-  ✩   「 @nickelsdrocs 」   ✩  

「 ☆ 」   Shuichi... would prefer to have his hat. 

Which might further prove why he shouldn’t have it. Kaede has been trying to encourage him to rely less on his makeshift shield, wanting Shuichi to grow more comfortable looking others in the eye. Having faith that he won’t see disgust or hatred or annoyance or any number of negative emotions he’s CERTAIN are reserved for him. He’s seen them so many times before. But it’s difficult taking that step. Even more-so when the choice is ripped away, the sudden absence of his hat only making Shuichi’s dependance upon it feel stronger than ever.

Still, this is- a good thing... It has to be. He has to look at it in that light, otherwise he might spiral into an even bigger panic than the uncomfortable tightness already in his chest.  ❛  This is good for you. This is good for you. This is good for you... ❜  Seto wouldn’t do this to you if he didn’t think it was good for you. Of course, he also could very easily— and more likely —not fully realize what he’s forced Shuichi to face. Open as Shuichi can be when it comes to certain- coping mechanisms, it’s always a guess whether other people actually understand it. If they did, Kaede wouldn’t be so confident about his ability to shed his hat, he’s certain of it.

Or perhaps, it’s Shuichi who is blind to what he’s capable of.

Head ducked and gaze flitting around like an animal searching for the closest cover, Shuichi hurries to his target, feeling his unease gradually lift the closer he gets to the tree. Looking at Seto, hat or no hat, hasn’t been difficult for a while now. Usually when his nerves spike because of the other man, it’s due to something the thief says or does. Not merely his company. Sucking in a shaky yet steadying breath, Shuichi aims a smile up at the troublemaker, a bit tired— from the emotional strain of being trapped in class without his hat —but still sincere.

Lightly laughing at Seto’s dramatics, he decides to lean into the game, curious to see what other quips the other man has at the ready. He can wait a bit longer to get his hat, so long as it’s for THIS conversation. Crossing his arms and tilting his head, Shuichi amusedly replies,  ❝  Oh really? Are you sure there’s nothing you could have possibly done to get my attention?  ❞  Seto having unlocked a side of Shuichi that few get to witness, the detective jokes,  ❝  You should give yourself more credit than that.  ❞     「 ☆ 」 

[not-bcring]

"Kokichi; holder of my heart, tamer of darkness, melter of the dreaded ice; did you perhaps borrow one of my sweaters recently? This one, to be percise?" Ducked behind his scarf, Gundham pulled at the front of a black hoodie worn under his usual coat with his bandaged hand before letting the fabric go in a slow deflate as it reconfirmed to its typical baggy state. "And did you perhaps partake in a bit of mischief while wearing it? Such as the theft of someone's keys? Motorcycle keys, to be more exact?" Where was he going with this- //once again kokichi gets to face the consequences of his own actions uwu -  ✩   「 @the-ultimate-muses 」   ✩  

「 ☆ 」 Kokichi is a notorious thief— allegedly notorious, since he’s never actually admitted to his crimes when cornered about them. Unless comedy required it, but even then he’s prone to flaunting his ill-gained trinket while still neglecting to outright say he ❛ stole ❜ it. Having spewed COUNTLESS confessions about fantastical heists that may-or-may-not have happened, people are more inclined to believe in what goes unsaid when it comes to the little troublemaker. So it’s not strange when he’s questioned about some missing keys… What is surprising is GUNDHAM being the one to mention it. Normally his boyfriends don’t so much as bat an eye to low-stakes shenanigans that don’t concern them.

Interest piqued with a near-missable tension in his shoulders, Kokichi buries the split-second of confusion by donning one of his best neutral masks. Perfect when either having some fun or putting up an instinctive barrier, Kokichi figures its vague purposes will help him stay ahead of whichever direction this conversation goes. Buttered up by sweet nicknames, a round-about method of inquiry, no discernible aggravation in his tone or body language…

Gundham doesn’t seem upset with him.

Then why does Kokichi’s stomach feel sour?

❝ No. ❞ He bluntly chimes, covering all of Gundham’s questions with a blanket denial. However, despite his dry response, gaze is still focused upon his boyfriend. Widened, curious eyes silently urging Gundham to continue even if he’s being vocally dismissive. That taut ❛ no ❜ may as well be a yes as far as Kokichi is concerned and he feels confident that Gundham knows as much. They’re usually good at reading one another. No matter how difficult the two seem determined to make it be at times. 「 ☆ 」

[not-bcring]

「 ☆ 」 Completely oblivious to Seto's lapse in demeanor and somehow even more-so to the CAUSE for it, clear clues are missed by unconfident eyes, Shuichi's poor view of himself not allowing him to see what's right in front of his face. Accepting the nonchalant facade without question, Shuichi's stomach unwittingly flutters at that familiar smirk. Misdiagnosing the tingling as his usual ingrained nerves despite feeling more at ease than he has all day, the detective pays it no mind. Nor does he acknowledge the warmth glowing in his face; yet another sign misunderstood by the person feeling it. Another string of solidarity, tying the two souls together.

Whether they realize it yet or not.

Eyes widen at the sight of TWO magnifying glasses in Seto's grip, still taken aback at the other. No matter how many times Seto steals from him, it never fails to impress. Perhaps not the mindset a renowned detective should have toward a criminal, but this is all in good fun. Should they run into each other when not in the safe embrace of Hope's Peak grounds, that's a different more emotionally complex story. Thankfully, it has yet to happen and if Seto's skills continue to keep him more figment than actual prospect to throw Shuichi's services at, it never will.

Disgusted as people may be to work with the young detective, their superiors are still vying for Shuichi's assistance. With countless cases offered or forced upon him, it's easy to find excuses to politely turn down requests to chase after a ❛ ghost ❜.

Instinctively looking down at his pocket where the backup magnifying glass used to be, mirth lights up his eyes and helps clear his worries. A confusing skill of Seto's ( almost as much as why the thief calls him ❛ Bluejay ❜ ) considering most criminals want nothing more than to see Shuichi BREAK rather than laugh. But one Shuichi appreciates. Sputtering out a giggle, clear even behind his raised hand, he returns Seto's smirk with an attempt of his own. Not nearly as well-practiced, it's more of a genuine smile than a suave tease, ❝ Where's the fun in simply telling you? ❞

Meeting the banter with more confidence than most would expect, Shuichi ❛ nonchalantly ❜ shrugs while saying, ❝ If you want to know so badly, you'll just have to find that out yourself... ❞ Looking proud of himself for the added allure of mystery, he crosses his arms and adds with a raised brow, ❝ If I did have a third magnifying glass, I still wouldn't consider it ❛ paranoid ❜. And I don't think you can either... Not when you're standing there holding TWO of mine. ❞

❝ Besides, it's actually incredibly useful to have varying sizes and strengths available at a moment's notice. ❞ He can't help but add, a tinge of genuine excitement hinting his words as he explains. ❝ Smaller ones are the most beneficial, both for the detail they can pick out and ease of concealment. But I still like having a bigger option on me— ❞ He points at the regular glass in Seto's grip, ❝ —for when I need to examine a larger surface area, and efficiency is more important than picking out every tiny detail. So, they're all useful. Even if I might use some more than others. ❞ 「 ☆ 」

not-bcring​:

「 ☆ 」   Laughter was expected. People tend to laugh at Shuichi a lot. But what the detective HADN’T expected was how the laughter made him feel. Instead of the usual malicious mockery, this sound was… joyous. Unapologetically and unintentionally lighthearted as it literally knocked Seto off his feet and knocked the air out of Shuichi’s lungs. Instead of making Shuichi want to crawl under a rock and die, surprised expression softens. Lips upturning into a smile, giggling begins to bubble out, unable to be stifled behind a dainty hand. Turning into peals of laughter, Shuichi is soon grasping his stomach as well; although he manages to remain upright.

Proving to be contagious, Shuichi is caught in the throes of laughter alongside Seto, cheeks growing rosy as his entire body lights up at the unfamiliar bout. Ribs tickling and nerves nonexistent, the attention they could be drawing to themselves doesn’t even cross Shuichi’s mind. Nothing mattering but him and Seto and the joyous waves overwhelming them. Sides ache but Shuichi doesn’t care, the detective doubled-over as he laughs thanks to the sheer joy of the feeling. The sheer delight at seeing Seto so… happy.

It’s nice… laughing like this. FEELING like this.

When it finally fades to sporadic bouts of snickering, Shuichi straightens his spine with a wince, wiping at his eyes as the tickling in his stomach tries to settle. Looking at Seto with a surprising and unintentional fondness that isn’t going to help his reputation around Hope’s Peak, Shuichi tucks his messy hair out of his face, ebony strands stubbornly falling back.  ❝  … Really?  ❞  He responds through a quiet giggle, remnants of giddiness still lingering in bright eyes and a sheepish blush. Unaware of how he further proves Seto’s comment, face grows a deeper shade of pink as he cutely grins and offers a hand to help Seto up,  ❝  That’s the first time someone’s had that reaction… Usually I get called weird.  ❞  Or worse.

❝  Personally, I don’t see what’s so strange about being well-prepared.  ❞  Speaking with far more ease than Shuichi normally shows around others, the socially-awkward detective even takes the risk of trying to banter,  ❝  After all, you never know when some sneaky thief might swipe your magnifying glass…  ❞     「 ☆ 」 

Shuichi really is fucking precious.

Just the sound of his laughter and the look of pure mirth on his face was enough to completely enrapture Seto. It took him by surprise so much that he almost immediately stopped laughing, so shocking that he even stopped breathing. Heat suddenly built up in his cheeks and his pants. Moments like these were why he was so certain that he and Shuichi were Fated Rivals. How else would one explain this inherent attraction to the other? And when his rival brushed hair out of his face, the pure exposure to the cuteness that was the detective’s visage stunned the thief once again, his heart skipping a beat as he stared up from his spot on the ground.

Finally coming back to his senses, he shook his head and sprung back onto his feet. His signature smirk made it’s way back onto his mug, confident and nonchalant facade returning to its rightful place. “Well, there’s a fine line between being prepared and being paranoid,” he replied teasingly. After saying that, he held up two magnifying glasses, one much more smaller than the other. “Well, which one are y-you, Bluejay?”

He had taken the opportunity while Shuichi fit of laughter to pickpocket the second one, just for his reaction and keep their conversation going. That’s when a certain thought crossed his mind. “Y-you don’t happen to have a third, even smaller magnifying glass, do you?” he questioned, one eyebrow slightly raised.

[not-bcring]

✩ 「 @nickelsdrocs​ 」 ✩ - Continued from ★

「 ☆ 」 Snickering behind a hand at the stranger's confusion, green hues glitter with intrigue as the ebony-haired man finally realizes what's happening. Wondering how the other feels about the impromptu nickname thrown his way, Ayumu hopes it provides some sort of boost for the guy's ego. He looks like the type who doesn't get many of those. When one flirts as much as Ayumu does, they tend to learn how to spot an asshole. If anything, it doesn't seem to be upsetting the ❛ Big Guy ❜

In Ayumu's defense, nearly everyone is a big guy compared to him.

Peering through long lashes with an intrigued smirk, he makes no attempt to hide the way he studies the man as he walks over. Not a bad view, for sure. Sweat-glistened and confounded by Ayumu's antics... just the way he likes them~ Even though the point of this conversation is to get to the top of the tree, Ayumu spares a moment to imagine what it might be like to climb something else. Lightly nibbling a glossy bottom lip, wandering thoughts shine clearly upon a confidently-cheeky face even as he responds, ❝ Well... You've already noticed the tree. ❞

Gesturing at his body with a flourish of his arm, flirtatious expression falls in favor of something more playful. Tone following suit, it's surprisingly innocent as he laughs, ❝ And you've probably noticed I am not nearly tall enough to scale this thing. Not without help, anyway... That's where you come in. ❞ Pointing at the man with a finger gun, other hand rests on a cocked hip. Hand then motions at the tree behind him, head nodding along with it, ❝ I just need you to get me up to that lower branch and I can handle the rest. ❞

Despite the explanation— if it can even be called that —it's still unclear WHY Ayumu needs to climb that tree. But the smaller male just quirks a brow and teases, ❝ Think you can do that for me, Handsome?~ ❞ 「 ☆ 」

[not-bcring]

One could hear a hiccuping sob from the kitchen in the dining area. Sitting on top of the cabinets that lined the back wall, Seto was wrapped around a bottle of sake like a baby sloth holding onto its mother. Empty beer cans littered the area around him, even some having been knocked onto the floor.  It would be clear to anyone that he was beyond drunk; he was completely smashed.

(Shuichi, come get your black-out drunk crush who's sad he has to blackmail you.)

-  ✩   「 @nickelsdrocs​​ 」   ✩  

「 ☆ 」   There are two reactions one could have when faced with unknown sobbing… Most in Hope’s Peak would go with the first one. Continuing along their not-so merry way and pretending they never heard another’s sorrow. For good reason, self-serving as it may be. Things don’t tend to go well for people when they stick their nose into others business at the prestigious if somewhat perilous school.  With such a vast array of eccentric and often confrontational personalities, it makes sense that sticking to oneself is a popular decision.

Shuichi, chooses the less popular reaction.

Carefully peeking his head into the kitchen, brim of his hat— previously pulled down low to conceal his face ( as is the norm when the detective is by himself ) —is eased upward just enough for golden hues to peek out. Thin brows furrowed, silent lips are pulled back in a concerned grimace. Gaze scanning the mostly abandoned area, the kitchen looks desolate in the dim lighting, mimicking the shroud of night that’s already fallen outside. In the eerie quiet of a slumbering Hope’s Peak, devastated sobs seem to echo off the walls. Certain that’s a trick of his imagination— surely this would be more of a spectacle if it was truly overwhelming the dark room —Shuichi’s steps are still light as he hurries forward, as if hesitant to add even the slightest noise to the already deafening despair.  

He better hurry and get Seto… If he knows the thief, and he’d like to think he does, he wouldn’t want anyone stumbling across this show of vulnerability. Shuichi can only hope he won’t be too upset with the audience of one he’s already amassed.

Stepping over scattered cans, Shuichi’s eyes linger on them for an uneasy moment. He’s never had alcohol touch his lips, but he’s seen its affect on other people. Family, co-workers, peers ( of legal drinking age and otherwise ) and it’s seldom pretty. His Uncle always warned him of those temptations; making sure Shuichi knew he was too pure for sinful substances. That if Shuichi let it enter his body, it’d taint something he worked so hard to protect. He could never betray his Uncle like that. Nauseous from the smell, he hastens his movements, wanting to leave the can graveyard as soon as possible. For both of their sakes.

Standing beneath the cabinets, head angles to look up at the pitiful sight. Chest tight, he tries to speak, only for words to fail. Broken before they can even form, all that comes out is a mix between a croak and a whimper, a red-faced Shuichi hastily clearing his throat before trying again. Barely breaking through the sobbing, gentle words hopefully hit Seto’s senses,  ❝  S-Seto? Are you— ...  ❞  Choking back the stupid question— Shuichi firmly believes there’s no such thing but even he has to admit  ❛  are you alright?  ❜  is one in this context —he tries again,  ❝  It’ll be alright...  ❞  There. That’s better. 

Extending his arms in an offer to catch Seto, he doesn’t make any moves closer, not wanting to risk scaring the fragile man.  ❝  Do you want to come down?  ❞     「 ☆ 」 

[not-bcring]

With the introduction of beastly power into his blood, Kazuichi had become a cuddle monster towards anyone who would give him the time of day. No one was safe from his incessant whines and pleas for attention, which wasn't truly all that different from how he was before, the werewolf only having grown more open about his desires at how they demand affection with an instinctive itch beneath his skin. Kaz had been clingy before, but now he was a pack animal by nature, the lack of attention even more keenly felt should he go too long without it. Luckily, there were many of his friends who enjoyed cuddles as well, and a few of those were often found sedentary enough for either Kaz to sit in their lap, or them in his while they worked for hours of uninterrupted attention. Caught in the mechanic's trap that day had been none other than a certain little bunny detective, Shuichi hard at work doing....something as he sat on Kaz's lap in the peace and quiet of the detective's room. The wolf had followed his friend back to said room after Shuichi had returned from his work at the local police station, Kaz able to tell by instinct alone that the other man was overworked and needed a break, and what better break then a good snuggle? A break that still hadn't come, what had started as a "quick" look over of papers turning into into even more work. Letting out a sad little whine, Kaz nuzzled his nose at Shuichi's neck, his chin hooking over his shoulder as he gave an impatient twitch of a canine ear. "Shuichiiii, you said you'd take a break hours ago!" Had it actually been hours? Whose to say, but however long it had been, it was far too long for Kaz's liking. "If you don't take a break right now, I'm gonna....um...I'm gonna bite you!!" -  ✩   「 @wrinkled-sheets-and-sunlight 」   ✩  

「 ☆ 」 Pouring over documents that had been graciously bestowed upon him by the other members of his ❛ team ❜, Shuichi is grateful it's only busywork. With the case practically closed, there's merely the issue of crossing some t's and dotting some i's. Ensuring that nothing goes wrong and causes them to trip at the finish line. Either by some gross oversight or, just as probable, sabotage from within. Perhaps that's why it's become almost tradition for the young detective to carefully monitor things once they near their end. Because those in command are aware of how... mistakes can be made when tasks are left to others. Not that those in charge are innocent, but they tend to be smarter with their maliciousness.

Closing cases successfully works in their favor, even if it also works in Shuichi's. They can focus on tarnishing the detective's reputation in a more personal manner, hoping to bring Shuichi down without bringing down the the department itself. Honestly, that's all whitenoise to the detective. As commonplace as the blue sky above or the bugs that skitter below. He can handle people making his life Hell, so long as they keep their conniving hands off those of others.

Exhaustion starting to tug at his limbs, Shuichi brushes it off as per usual. The only difference in the familiar sight is the detective's choice of perch. Would anyone have told him he'd be comfortably settled in a lap ( one of the most anxiety-inducing places there is)— let alone one belonging to a wolf —he never would have believed them. Not one to be at ease around canines, for good reason, it had taken effort on his part to give Kazuichi the chance he KNEW the other deserved. Not wanting natural instincts to prevent him from enjoying the company of someone who seemed genuinely nice and for some strange reason, actually wanted to be around him.

Rather than bare his fangs and tear Shuichi to shreds, Kazuichi has done nothing but approach him with a wagging tail and good intentions... Providing a source of support and sincerity that Shuichi has been starved of. Nose twitching as he studies the stack of papers in his grip, he shifts ever-so-slightly in his seat, resting further against the wolf without even realizing it. Lightly gnawing on the edge of his pencil, his poor companion's whines go barely noticed. Despite never purposely ignoring someone he cares about, being around Kaz is so wrapped in a sense of ❛ ease ❜ that the other has faded into the background. As normal as the papers in his hand and the pencil caught between bucked teeth, Kaz reduced to Shuichi's comfy spot.

Subconsciously angling his head, he lightly nuzzles against Kazuichi even as he emits a distracted hum, gaze not once lifting from his work. ❝ Uh-huh... ❞ He monotonely mutters, shuffling forward a new document to read over. 「 ☆ 」

[not-bcring]

"I.... was just w-wondering.... I mean, we've been, uh, 'dating' for a while now... but we've never been on an actual date before... And I know! I know that's mostly my fault.. with the keeping it secret and all... but now that it's out in the open, I just thought.... maybe we could..." Daisuke blabbered nervously, looking anywhere but at his boyfriend as he spoke.

Letting out a deep breath to clear his nerves, he stared deep into the other bright green eyes, smile spreading across his lips just getting to see the other. Finally, he mustered up the courage to reveal the flowers he had been hiding behind his back and ask, "Ayumu Arata, would you like to go on a date with me?"

(Daisuke had to be the biggest sap in the world for their first official date. He is soooo in love with Ayumu.)

-  ✩   「 @nickelsdrocs 」   ✩  

「 ☆ 」   Daisuke’s nervousness doesn’t take Ayumu by surprise as much as one might expect, considering how supportive and shameless their relationship is. No matter how close they may be, Daisuke is an anxious sort. Self-confidence being one of the things the more outspoken male tries to assist with. Not that Ayumu judges Daisuke for having reservations even around his partner; people in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones, after all. However, he is curious about what brought about the demure demeanor, head tilting quizzically as Ayumu sets aside his phone so that his boyfriend could have his complete attention.

Nodding with an encouraging—  ❝  Uh-huh...  ❞  —as Daisuke mentions the nature of their relationship, Ayumu does have to agree that their circumstances have been- unique. Despite taking longer to develop a genuine bond with Daisuke than Ayumu has with anyone else he’s ever slept with, they had somehow still managed to sort of speed-run their relationship. Going from mutual pining to a LITERAL fuck-fest of a confession— from a first kiss straight to taking Daisuke’s virginity —Ayumu can recall how the majority of that night, and the next day, had been a confusing and overwhelming whirlwind of uncertainty and yet understanding.

Knowing it was a terrifying prospect, for both of them. Allowing themselves to feel THIS deeply for another person... To take the risks that come with love. And yet also knowing that, as much as either might have wished otherwise ( however much ) there was no living without one another after the connection they experienced. Not just the sex— although it was the best Ayumu ever had —but the genuine comfort that came from simply being around each other. They had gone from admitting they wanted each other to slipping into the roles of boyfriends as naturally as breathing. All without so much as a single date to test the waters.

Frankly, Ayumu thinks they should feel pretty proud of that.

Not that he isn’t still ecstatic at the chance to have his first date now. 

Eyes widening alongside his bright smile at the reveal of flowers— actual first date flowers —green hues sparkle with unrestrained joy at the romantic gesture. With Daisuke being the only person to feel a desire to treat Ayumu with any shred of sappiness, it’s no wonder the petite male basks in it with an adorable eagerness. Before meeting Daisuke, and even a while after considering the secretive nature of their relationship, being treated to THIS felt like an indulgent fantasy. Not that Ayumu ever held it against Daisuke; he was already being treated far better than he deserves. With a delighted gasp and an unwitting snatch of the flowers, cheeks flush to match the bouquet as the sweet scent washes over his senses. 

Pressing his face into the smooth petals with a deep breath, he giggles,  ❝  Yes! Yes, yes yes—  ❞  Acting as if he’s accepting a proposal rather than a date, Ayumu jumps up to wrap his arms around Daisuke’s neck, fully expecting his boyfriend to support the surprise shift in weight. Flowers held in one hand as he hugs Daisuke, soft lips crash against his partner’s, Ayumu’s smile slipping into a more comfortable kiss with a happy hum. Thanking Daisuke with the bubblegum-flavored warmth of his kiss, gloss is left behind when Ayumu pulls away, acting as faint proof that he was there... Peppering some more proof across Daisuke’s mouth and cheeks, he then pulls away so he can look Daisuke in the eyes and playfully say,  ❝  I'd love to go on a date with you, Daisuke~  ❞  

❝  And please, feel free to call me Ayumu.  ❞      「 ☆ 」

[not-bcring]

"If you keep hugging that rabbit like that, I'm going to start thinking you like it more than me," Hitoshi commented off-handedly. Despite his complaining, he actually thought Ken'ichi looked especially adorable with the stuffed animal that was almost as big as he was. Even more so than when the boy had first spotted it, and Hitoshi just had to get it for him. Whatever backlash his luck caused after winning it first try would be worth it. At least, that's what he thought until he saw the candle being knocked from its lantern toward the smaller one. Acting before he could even think, he pulled Ken out of the way, blocking him from the blaze with his own body. (Now it's your turn for angst.) -  ✩   「 @nickelsdrocs 」   ✩  

「 ☆ 」 This is Ken's first time at a Festival and he's already excited for the next one. And the next and the next... Part of him— the part that hasn't drowned its common sense in sugary drinks —fervently reminds himself that he doesn't KNOW if there will be a next one; let alone a string of them. He should put all his focus on this date visit ( which, to be fair, he IS ) and not get his hopes too high ( which, unfortunately, he is failing at ). There's no telling when the novelty of showing off for his fuck-toy turned... friend pet lover regular-toy, will wear off and Hitoshi might set his sights to more entertaining places. Although it's hard to think of anything being more entertaining than himself, Ken'ichi can't believe it won't happen.

Squeezing his giant plush as if his life depends on it, giddy smile buried into its soft form, he scoffs at Hitoshi's comment. Rolling his eyes, the playful brattiness doesn't hit quite as hard when paired with his flushed features or the sparkle within green hues. ❝ Well, it is more fun to cuddle with... and Pocket doesn't make smart-ass remarks either~ ❞ He teases, sticking his tongue out at Hitoshi to really drive the point home, his heart-shaped stud— a familiar blue one chosen for today instead of his usual multi-colored —twinkling in the light.

And then that light gets too close.

Abruptly yanked out of harm's way— a stark difference from always being thrust INTO it —Ken doesn't have time to process what's happening until it's already over. Fire taking hold of Hitoshi's clothes as if it has a personal vendetta against him ( from what Ken'ichi knows of the others luck, maybe it does ) Ken utters a panicked, ❝ Shit! ❞ before hastily trying to pat out the flames. Pocket dropped upon the ground out of harm's way, small but quick hands attempt to beat back the fire on their own; Ken paying no heed to the sting in his palms. A blessed moment of clarity, and a bit of luck in his outfit choice, makes Ken shuffle off his oversized jacket; stolen from Hitoshi as ❛ extra payment ❜ earlier in their relationship agreement.

Using it to aid in smothering the flames, he makes quick work of the rest. Adrenaline overwhelming his small form, fueled by confusion and fear and gut-wrenching guilt, he tries to steady his breathing. Scent of burnt fabric and flesh not helping the nausea in his knot-addled stomach, he spares a breath to look over Hitoshi to make sure he is still breathing ( of course he is, it was just a little.... fire ) before impulsively shoving the other man before he can think better of it. At least he has sense enough to avoid the singed areas, although Ken's reddened palms aren't happy about the contact, ❝ What the fuck?! Why did you DO that? ❞

Tears brimming in his eyes, there's little comfort in the fact they don't fall. ❝ What kind of idiot purposely lets themself get set on FIRE?? ❞ Never mind that, from Ken'ichi's anger, it's pretty clear he's the kind of idiot who would have preferred to get set ablaze instead. But that's a completely different situation. It wouldn't have mattered if it was him. But with Hitoshi— with his LUCK, it could have gone very differently if fate had decided to be crueler to both of them... 「 ☆ 」