[ For a moment Mine thinks himself frozen, standing in a sudden encounter he didn't expect this late at night, despite them sleeping together. When he presently returns to his senses, sight easily recognizing Nishikiyama's eyes opening and their touch yet shared, he only lies there feeling calm. Not the one having been watched and caught, when Nishikiyama's vision gets used to the dark he'll see the hard lines across the bridge of Mine's nose have smoothed some. He doesn't smile, Nishikiyama isn't supposed to be awake, but Mine doesn't mind. It's not like he's doing anything forbidden.
Air cuts through the still room, versus the sound of Nishikiyama's breath drifting evenly from him asleep. Does he say something? Thoughts wandering, time drags out before Mine decides on an answer barely above a whisper. ]
[ Nishikiyama doesn't sound upset about it, though, even if it's late and his voice hardly carries. It's rough around the edgesโ rugged with the sleep that'd just been on it. With Mine's touch still pressed lightly against his wrist, he lazily lets his eyes shut once more. He tries speaking softer now. ]
Why were you up?
[ He doesn't suspect anything. Doesn't notice the clothes at the end of the bed. Without opening his eyes, he simply tucks himself in forward. Closer to Mine. ]
[ Mine watches Nishikiyama's twilit expression, still serene despite the allegation put forth. He also remains like that, but wonders what kind of explanation Nishikiyama wantsโnot like he'll be skulking out of his own homeโor if he just wants to be let drift back to sleep. A pause almost as long as the one before; again it's just Mine looking on. ]
I felt restless but wanted to stay nearby.
[ Honest without the details. Mine watches Nishikiyama curl in closer. The ball of his thumb fits Nishikiyama's palm nicely, he finds, when he lets his hand slide into the open space. Mine's lashes don't flutter to fall, but his gaze drops to them quietly holding hands. ]
[ It's asked dryly, but not with enough interest to insist that he minds. Whether or not Mine is sleepy or not, Nishikiyama isn't eager to stay awake if he finds he's relaxed for once. With his eyes shut, there's a small twitch to his brow. He thinks on why Mine might feel restless otherwise. ]
Just take tomorrow off.
[ He's probably thinking about his stocks or something. ]
[ Mine flusters, but just like Nishkiyama, it's not enough to react in an obvious way. He matches himself to the pace of the other man's reply, mulling over his piece of the conversation. ]
I'm keeping my morning freeโฆ
[ He defers without saying he might not be able to do any more. It's not for not wanting to make time for Nishikiyama either. Carving out anything more than a compromise, Mine thinks, is something heโll think about earliest in the morning. For now his fingers curl over the crook of Nishikiyama's index and thumb, and Mine still watches to see him react to an earnest holding hands. He feels warmth gather between the back of Nishikiyama's hand and the pillow. Mine squeezes once without easing off from it again. ]
[ Nishikiyama stays quiet for too long. His mind's started drifting back to slumber, and Mine's sentence sounds like low, rumbling notes rather than words that mean anything. There's a faint wince of his hand when he's squeezed, the motion partially waking him. It doesn't make much of a stir, though. Nishikiyama's fingers stay curled there, legs stretching and taking up more of the mattress. He notices Mine's legs are really smooth when his calf slides between them. Like a Ken dollโ waxed everywhere, perfectly groomed. ]
Whatever...
[ He's losing the will to protest. Mine is made to work, probably. He won't know what to do with himself if he doesn't. ]
Falling asleep.
[ It's the last mumbled warning Nishikiyama can manage before he feels himself fade. ]
[ He sees Nishikiyamaโs fingers twitch, but worry fades quicker than it might take hold when he only shifts his body for comfort. Mine straightens his legs, worked-out muscles of his calves hugging Nishikiyamaโs leg. Thereโs no sense in keeping that kind of closeness feeling awkward. A sigh drifts quietly from his nostrils. Thereโs none in explaining his answer further till morning, either.
โฆ
[ With his eyes still open he watches Nishikiyamaโs every moment as he drifts off back to sleep, like his breathing even and space out again, and motion of his shoulders lifting the duvet. Mine does so, in meditative observation, until he himself falls asleep again.
[ The following morning, a hiss of shower is shut off and when the door is slid to the side, a strong fragrance, Mine's own high-end shampoo and hair mask, wafting across steam and vapor back into the open. Nishikiyama is naked and dripping onto a towel he's laid out for himself on the floor. He pats himself dry with a different one while looking at himself in the mirror. Clunk, clunk. The drawers come out when Nishikiyama fishes around for more products to sample. He finds himself fond enough of Mine's shampoo line to swap brands.
His figure moves over the sink. With one hand planted on the edge of the counter, he spreads the pores of his nose bridge in his reflection, studying them carefully and deeply lost in vain observation. ]
[ In what world should Mine's private bathroom be too small to fit the both of them? Still, unaligned habits have resulted in him stepping out first. Nishikiyama showers hotter than he does, Mine barely above lukewarm, and it's still evident when the steam escapes after him. Scent of his own shampoo and body wash, because of the double-use it lingers in the air more obviously than if he were alone this morning.
Mine dabs his body dry, then wraps his towel around his waist for comfort. Microfiber everything. He wicks most of the water from his hair with another smaller one, but even so it clings to itself in thicker, damp strands. He swipes it back by combing his fingers through. Mine's face is touched by a new, wet sheen as the vapor from Nishikiyama's exit escapes alongside him. Mine's routine halts while he watches Nishikiyama in the mirror. He won't mind if he's caught staring, hard to fake out where he aims when they stand next to each other like so. Should he say something about what he's seeing? Nishikiyama'd been no less handsome in the low light. Mine's gaze flickers between profile and front-view. ]
That oil and facewash in the shower got all the gunk out.
[ He says while admiring his new skin. While heโd expected some semblance of his pores left behind, more like a clean strawberry than a glassy finish, the products in Mineโs regimen had practically smoothed them over and deleted them. Itโs a subtle change most around him wonโt pay mind to let alone understand, but it makes a world of difference to Nishikiyama himself. He looks down in the drawer for other things to sample.
Toner, lotion, a moisture mask. He reels them out one at a time now. With his hair pressed flat against his scalp, his full face, fresh and without discoloration, smirks arrogantly in the mirror. ]
Iโm taking all of this with me.
[ His palm cups a small amount of toner in it before papping it over his cheeks. The clapping of skin on skin while he applies the product is loud and carries too much pride. ]
[ Mine's one of the few people who'll notice the difference. He watches Nishikiyama's cheeks flush gently, circulation brought into them when he pats his face with vigor. He's not telling Nishikiyama that he can't try whatever he wants, not surprised by his boldness either, with a plain response. ]
You're welcome to. I could recommend a few products.
[ The moisture from the shower vapor has pulled into his skin, meanwhile, and looking to lock it in, he grabs the lotion. Mine leans on the countertop. Dabs of it are spread on his cheeks, forehead, nose, chin after getting a small amount for each area on his fingertips. On this morning his skin care is more than just routine and while Mine looks at himself he keeps stealing glances of the other man's reflection.
He likes that Nishikiyama smells like him now and Mine's realization of it is opposite of when he'd been sniffing his clothes. Above the double sinks, he angles his shoulder one way, closer. ]
[ Nishikiyama's skin glistens while drinking up the moisture, and his eyes slide over the edges of his own fingers. He feels Mine looking at him more and more often, almost enough to make him self-conscious as he switches to apply the same lotion Mine is using. ]
Just make me a kit to take home, like those frilly gift baskets you're supposed to give women.
[ Mine seems the type to hoard supplies. Nishikiyama wouldn't be shocked to find more than enough stock of his daily products tucked away in a bathroom cabinet or closet somewhere. ]
[ Maybe he senses discomfort. Mine looks away, down at the counter in front of him, like he doesn't want to scare off the picture of Nishikiyama in his bathroom mirror. He finds his eye cream to apply, a familiar next step. The quip makes him smile more than he thinks showsโ the corners of his mouth twitch upward and his reply isn't so steely either. ]
I'll put something together.
[ Leaning in to his own reflection, Mine's hand placement on his chin suggests he's considering a shave, though there's barely the appearance of stubble to go over. ]
Would you like to order in?
[ When Nishikiyama mentions breakfast. Mine's had the option on the table since waking up. ]
[ There hadn't been a sign of any maid or anything yet. Naturally, Nishikiyama had noted it'd been a serviced apartment suite complex, but there's no sign of anyone other than them so far. Probably something Mine had planned in advance. Maybe he's the one throwing off the other man's rhythm; not that he cares. He tears apart the seal of a face mask now, peeling it from the pocket and tilting his head back so that he can press and fit it on. ]
Just get what you always get.
[ If it's good enough for Mine, it's good enough for him. Between the two of them, he'd been the more finicky eater. He slides a look Mine's way from under his mask. There's still another on the countertop. ]
[ His mornings look completely different without Nishikiyama there, and Mine has thought about that fact much already. He could answer the question with a solid 'no', but then he'd imply he dislikes it. He doesn't. Mine is back to looking at Nishikiyama without the mirror between them, too preoccupied to point out that the face masks aren't part of his early AM routine. He watches the man crane his neck, an angle he hadn't had view of in the low light. ]
I'll have something brought over.
[ He says, disjointed from his thoughts but fitting the conversation. Mine pushes the bathroom drawers shut before placing his hand on the countertop, fingertips nudging the still-packaged mask there. Subtle tension's in the air when he doesn't pick it up. ]
You can wear my bathrobe, I'm going to put it on the bed.
[ Reason for Mine to leave the room, Nishikiyama needn't wait around naked. The pile of clothes has stayed the night on the foot of the bed. After putting the folded robe next to it, Mine picks out Nishikiyama's dress shirt. Fingers splay underneath the collar. He brings it up to his face again. Lashes flutter down as Mine wonders, just like in the dead of night, what he's doing well after the fact. Without stopping, he considers how Nishikiyama's scent has changed by scrubbing his skin with his products. ]
[ Mine is left to himself for a moment's time. Nishikiyama remains in the bathroom for a while, passing a look to the forgotten (he thinks) mask and then following Mine on his way back to the bedroom with it in his hand. The robe's on the mattress, his dress shirt in the other man's hand, but Nishikiyama thinks nothing of it yet. He's too close to the ground still to suspect that Mine might not do laundry. He makes a face, but the expression is hard to make out with a moisturizing mask still on. There's something almost comical about how he looks with the sheet there, like someone out of a sitcom. ]
I'll wash it when I get home, you don't need to do anything.
[ That's the only assumed reason Mine would have to sniff his shirt. ]
You didn't put on your mask.
[ He drops it there in front of Mine and expects he cooperate. Without realizing, he steps into his space and goes to the bathrobe. ]
[ Mine, with the shirt not far from his face, can sense disapproval from behind Nishikiyama's sheet mask. He's been caught, he thinks, doing something he can describe and defend to himself but not to Nishikiyama. It's nonsensical, really, that he finds it impossible to explain his want for closeness when his actions and even a few words last night have said as much. The collar of the black shirt hides how his grip crumples the fabric, where it'd sit high between Nishikiyama's shoulder blades. His lashes flutter, blinking, when the convesation readily veers off the dreaded course. Mine claims collectedness and adds whatever Nishikiyama's thinking to his bid for an answer. ]
Are you sure? I can have it cleaned.
[ He could keep itโan idea that'd no longer make sense after Mine has the shirt washed and steamed, though. He drops his hand down with it but doesn't lose it. Nishikiyama in view, Mine's brow creases. Nishikiyama wedges himself into his bubble; he tries to slim himself rather than step back. Mine's chest lifts with the breath he'd been holding in Nishikiyama's shirt. ]
No. I use this at night, usually.
[ Why, he doesn't say, but now shares about the routine Nishikiyama has already taken to changing. ]
[ There's nothing for him to be suspicious of, and thusly, he isn't. Nishikiyama instead pulls the bathrobe onto himself, each arm filling the sleeves before he wraps it around his waist and legs to cover himself properly. ]
[ Mine appears to think about his answer briefly, and then he waits for Nishikiyama to agree. In all that time, he has himself part from the thought of keeping any of the other man's clothes. Placid, he watches Nishikiyama slip into the robe. Just like that, his argument about the mask faces no further resistance, when Mine picks it up and with both it and the shirt in hand suggest he step outside the bedroom. ]
[ Nishikiyama's eyes follow Mine and his exit. There's not a lot of protest to follow it and instead comes a purposeless boredom. Without anyone to talk to, what's he to do? There's a lack of reason for him to stay in the room. Mine had wanted him in the bathrobe; he's in it. After feeling the moment has lagged for too long, he finds himself drifting into the hallway in the vague direction that Mine had left.
... But he can't let him think he's being followed.
Nishikiyama finds one room dedicated to physical fitness in Mine's room. With a punching bag and equipment stationed accordingly, Nishikiyama notices that, despite the new smell of leather, the punching bag has seen thorough practice. His fingers brush over the surface and find no splits. Not that he'd expect any. ]
[ Two phone calls made, and the shirt set outside to be picked up without Nishikiyama noticing any more. Mine returns, not completely empty-handed. He's still carrying the moisture mask, unopened. Hyper-aware of someone else sharing the space of his private, quiet apartment this morning, he listens for sign of Nishikiyama moving about before he's even close to the bedroom again. Mine doesn't go all the way back there.
He follows Nishikiyama, after an uncalculated wait, into the room where the door stands cracked open. Mine surveys his own furnishings, as someone who rarely takes the time to step in here just to have a look around. A moment that lasts before he speaks up, curious about Nishikiyama finding his way in here. ]
Are you looking for something?
[ Opposite his previous flight behavior, changing rooms, right now Mine resembles a cat slinking around its owner's legs. He stands close. ]
[ He's just here because he wound up here. His interest in the punching bag declines and, deciding that it's been enough time, he unpeels his mask from his skin. His face is glassy beneath. The lights above cast a sheen over the bonesโ his features are more prominent than most. ]
Put yours on.
[ He squints and lazily sweeps his foot at Mine's ankle. ]
[ Without asking, Mine'd arrived at the thought that Nishikiyama isn't an early riser and based his expectations this morning around that. Now, his skin looks nourished, he looks awake when he peels off the mask. Mine's interest in Nishikiyama being in this room is greater and remains as such. He looks at him overlong. Maybe that's why Nishikiyama swipes at his leg, discomforted, and Mine splits from the view of him. He decidesโ ]
Alright.
[ Setting the same intention of him leaving the room, going back into the bathroom, hanging in the air. This time, Mine just isn't so quick to go. ]
I ordered breakfast. It'll be here in thirty minutes.
[ Mine likes that his statement's earned him this kind of interest. ]
A quiche and a selection of open-faced sandwiches. It's something I hope you'll enjoy.
[ Then, he leaves.
In the bathroom, Mine looks past himself in the mirror, waiting on the picture of Nishikiyama behind him. With the face mask unfolded, he cranes his head back to drape it on. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Air cuts through the still room, versus the sound of Nishikiyama's breath drifting evenly from him asleep. Does he say something? Thoughts wandering, time drags out before Mine decides on an answer barely above a whisper. ]
I'm sorry, if I woke you up.
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[ Nishikiyama doesn't sound upset about it, though, even if it's late and his voice hardly carries. It's rough around the edgesโ rugged with the sleep that'd just been on it. With Mine's touch still pressed lightly against his wrist, he lazily lets his eyes shut once more. He tries speaking softer now. ]
Why were you up?
[ He doesn't suspect anything. Doesn't notice the clothes at the end of the bed. Without opening his eyes, he simply tucks himself in forward. Closer to Mine. ]
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[ Mine watches Nishikiyama's twilit expression, still serene despite the allegation put forth. He also remains like that, but wonders what kind of explanation Nishikiyama wantsโnot like he'll be skulking out of his own homeโor if he just wants to be let drift back to sleep. A pause almost as long as the one before; again it's just Mine looking on. ]
I felt restless but wanted to stay nearby.
[ Honest without the details. Mine watches Nishikiyama curl in closer. The ball of his thumb fits Nishikiyama's palm nicely, he finds, when he lets his hand slide into the open space. Mine's lashes don't flutter to fall, but his gaze drops to them quietly holding hands. ]
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[ It's asked dryly, but not with enough interest to insist that he minds. Whether or not Mine is sleepy or not, Nishikiyama isn't eager to stay awake if he finds he's relaxed for once. With his eyes shut, there's a small twitch to his brow. He thinks on why Mine might feel restless otherwise. ]
Just take tomorrow off.
[ He's probably thinking about his stocks or something. ]
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I'm keeping my morning freeโฆ
[ He defers without saying he might not be able to do any more. It's not for not wanting to make time for Nishikiyama either. Carving out anything more than a compromise, Mine thinks, is something heโll think about earliest in the morning. For now his fingers curl over the crook of Nishikiyama's index and thumb, and Mine still watches to see him react to an earnest holding hands. He feels warmth gather between the back of Nishikiyama's hand and the pillow. Mine squeezes once without easing off from it again. ]
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Whatever...
[ He's losing the will to protest. Mine is made to work, probably. He won't know what to do with himself if he doesn't. ]
Falling asleep.
[ It's the last mumbled warning Nishikiyama can manage before he feels himself fade. ]
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โฆ
[ With his eyes still open he watches Nishikiyamaโs every moment as he drifts off back to sleep, like his breathing even and space out again, and motion of his shoulders lifting the duvet. Mine does so, in meditative observation, until he himself falls asleep again.
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His figure moves over the sink. With one hand planted on the edge of the counter, he spreads the pores of his nose bridge in his reflection, studying them carefully and deeply lost in vain observation. ]
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Mine dabs his body dry, then wraps his towel around his waist for comfort. Microfiber everything. He wicks most of the water from his hair with another smaller one, but even so it clings to itself in thicker, damp strands. He swipes it back by combing his fingers through. Mine's face is touched by a new, wet sheen as the vapor from Nishikiyama's exit escapes alongside him. Mine's routine halts while he watches Nishikiyama in the mirror. He won't mind if he's caught staring, hard to fake out where he aims when they stand next to each other like so. Should he say something about what he's seeing? Nishikiyama'd been no less handsome in the low light. Mine's gaze flickers between profile and front-view. ]
โDid you find everything you needed in there?
no subject
[ He says while admiring his new skin. While heโd expected some semblance of his pores left behind, more like a clean strawberry than a glassy finish, the products in Mineโs regimen had practically smoothed them over and deleted them. Itโs a subtle change most around him wonโt pay mind to let alone understand, but it makes a world of difference to Nishikiyama himself. He looks down in the drawer for other things to sample.
Toner, lotion, a moisture mask. He reels them out one at a time now. With his hair pressed flat against his scalp, his full face, fresh and without discoloration, smirks arrogantly in the mirror. ]
Iโm taking all of this with me.
[ His palm cups a small amount of toner in it before papping it over his cheeks. The clapping of skin on skin while he applies the product is loud and carries too much pride. ]
no subject
You're welcome to. I could recommend a few products.
[ The moisture from the shower vapor has pulled into his skin, meanwhile, and looking to lock it in, he grabs the lotion. Mine leans on the countertop. Dabs of it are spread on his cheeks, forehead, nose, chin after getting a small amount for each area on his fingertips. On this morning his skin care is more than just routine and while Mine looks at himself he keeps stealing glances of the other man's reflection.
He likes that Nishikiyama smells like him now and Mine's realization of it is opposite of when he'd been sniffing his clothes. Above the double sinks, he angles his shoulder one way, closer. ]
no subject
Just make me a kit to take home, like those frilly gift baskets you're supposed to give women.
[ Mine seems the type to hoard supplies. Nishikiyama wouldn't be shocked to find more than enough stock of his daily products tucked away in a bathroom cabinet or closet somewhere. ]
What's for breakfast?
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I'll put something together.
[ Leaning in to his own reflection, Mine's hand placement on his chin suggests he's considering a shave, though there's barely the appearance of stubble to go over. ]
Would you like to order in?
[ When Nishikiyama mentions breakfast. Mine's had the option on the table since waking up. ]
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[ There hadn't been a sign of any maid or anything yet. Naturally, Nishikiyama had noted it'd been a serviced apartment suite complex, but there's no sign of anyone other than them so far. Probably something Mine had planned in advance. Maybe he's the one throwing off the other man's rhythm; not that he cares. He tears apart the seal of a face mask now, peeling it from the pocket and tilting his head back so that he can press and fit it on. ]
Just get what you always get.
[ If it's good enough for Mine, it's good enough for him. Between the two of them, he'd been the more finicky eater. He slides a look Mine's way from under his mask. There's still another on the countertop. ]
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I'll have something brought over.
[ He says, disjointed from his thoughts but fitting the conversation. Mine pushes the bathroom drawers shut before placing his hand on the countertop, fingertips nudging the still-packaged mask there. Subtle tension's in the air when he doesn't pick it up. ]
You can wear my bathrobe, I'm going to put it on the bed.
[ Reason for Mine to leave the room, Nishikiyama needn't wait around naked. The pile of clothes has stayed the night on the foot of the bed. After putting the folded robe next to it, Mine picks out Nishikiyama's dress shirt. Fingers splay underneath the collar. He brings it up to his face again. Lashes flutter down as Mine wonders, just like in the dead of night, what he's doing well after the fact. Without stopping, he considers how Nishikiyama's scent has changed by scrubbing his skin with his products. ]
no subject
I'll wash it when I get home, you don't need to do anything.
[ That's the only assumed reason Mine would have to sniff his shirt. ]
You didn't put on your mask.
[ He drops it there in front of Mine and expects he cooperate. Without realizing, he steps into his space and goes to the bathrobe. ]
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Are you sure? I can have it cleaned.
[ He could keep itโan idea that'd no longer make sense after Mine has the shirt washed and steamed, though. He drops his hand down with it but doesn't lose it. Nishikiyama in view, Mine's brow creases. Nishikiyama wedges himself into his bubble; he tries to slim himself rather than step back. Mine's chest lifts with the breath he'd been holding in Nishikiyama's shirt. ]
No. I use this at night, usually.
[ Why, he doesn't say, but now shares about the routine Nishikiyama has already taken to changing. ]
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[ There's nothing for him to be suspicious of, and thusly, he isn't. Nishikiyama instead pulls the bathrobe onto himself, each arm filling the sleeves before he wraps it around his waist and legs to cover himself properly. ]
Today's different.
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[ Mine appears to think about his answer briefly, and then he waits for Nishikiyama to agree. In all that time, he has himself part from the thought of keeping any of the other man's clothes. Placid, he watches Nishikiyama slip into the robe. Just like that, his argument about the mask faces no further resistance, when Mine picks it up and with both it and the shirt in hand suggest he step outside the bedroom. ]
Let me take care of this, first.
no subject
... But he can't let him think he's being followed.
Nishikiyama finds one room dedicated to physical fitness in Mine's room. With a punching bag and equipment stationed accordingly, Nishikiyama notices that, despite the new smell of leather, the punching bag has seen thorough practice. His fingers brush over the surface and find no splits. Not that he'd expect any. ]
no subject
He follows Nishikiyama, after an uncalculated wait, into the room where the door stands cracked open. Mine surveys his own furnishings, as someone who rarely takes the time to step in here just to have a look around. A moment that lasts before he speaks up, curious about Nishikiyama finding his way in here. ]
Are you looking for something?
[ Opposite his previous flight behavior, changing rooms, right now Mine resembles a cat slinking around its owner's legs. He stands close. ]
no subject
[ He's just here because he wound up here. His interest in the punching bag declines and, deciding that it's been enough time, he unpeels his mask from his skin. His face is glassy beneath. The lights above cast a sheen over the bonesโ his features are more prominent than most. ]
Put yours on.
[ He squints and lazily sweeps his foot at Mine's ankle. ]
no subject
Alright.
[ Setting the same intention of him leaving the room, going back into the bathroom, hanging in the air. This time, Mine just isn't so quick to go. ]
I ordered breakfast. It'll be here in thirty minutes.
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[ Nishikiyama still seems interested isn't dismissive. ]
no subject
A quiche and a selection of open-faced sandwiches. It's something I hope you'll enjoy.
[ Then, he leaves.
In the bathroom, Mine looks past himself in the mirror, waiting on the picture of Nishikiyama behind him. With the face mask unfolded, he cranes his head back to drape it on. ]
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