[ He wonders, briefly, if Nishikiyama up there waits with faith in his victory. If he took his word, when Mine'd affirmed, that the tattoo on his back stands for his very own strength. Of course, it hadn't been finished at the time.
Another criticism of the same day'd stayed in Mine's mind. Nishikiyama'd taken issue with him never having been in a brawl, a dirty street fight. He'd gone to rectify that in a dangerous way; Mine makes himself out to be someone worth robbing in one of the many back alleys of Kamurocho's neighborhood. Once having gone in, outside the Nishikiyama Family's office hours, his looks alone'd been good bait. Then, he'd knocked out every junior criminal wanting to take his watch or his wallet. Finally, blood speckling the pavement, he'd learned it's easier when he throws the first punch.
Mine takes the same aim now, not hesitating after the gong sounds. A wide right hook at Tashiro. The arm snapping up in front of his face lets Mine know he's not facing a novice fighter—neither acknowledging that he is one. It's where studio-trained technique kicks in, though, untouched by the uncouth tactics of a yakuza scrapper.
The hook is a ruse. Mine throws a left; Tashiro sees it too but then, quickly, another right– It's the only one meant to connect. No gloves and no protection; Mine's knuckles snap hard against Tashiro's cheek. The feeling buzzes in his arm.
Nishikiyama's champion takes no pause to revel in his success. Mine's fists come up to protect his head. He sidesteps immediately, wanting distance and to keep up movement. He beat Kanda with strategies the other man simply doesn't know, and he's confident that they'll work again. Mixed martial arts; there's no "yakuza" style, is there? Mine kicks in front of him in a wide sweep, testing his reach and Tashiro's reaction—who stays defensive, shaking his daze.
Mine doesn't seem afraid. Although he has hardly time to recognize it above the clamor of the crowd—none to wonder why, even, when Mine just cost him his spot—maybe it's thanks to Kanda cheering him on?
Tashiro tries to retaliate, directing a roundhouse kick to do damage. Mine shoves his foot against the leg keeping balance and Tashiro buckles at the knee. Mine keeps moving. ]
[ Nishikiyama is relieved to see that Mine is good— that his diamond-cut and analytical mind, sometimes alarming in how removed it is from his peers, makes a formidable weapon while conducting his fists. There's no unbridled fury, no sloppiness to them. Every move is calculated and with purpose. The reason he'd defeated Kanda, knowing this now, becomes very obvious to Nishikiyama. He slowly exhales his cigarette smoke while Tashiro stumbles from a leg parry. It shakes out into the air when Nishikiyama laughs to himself, Kanda beside him backseating and hollering louder like someone's crazy dad or sports team coach.
Mine is talented. What worry had been in Nishikiyama's stomach, made anxious by Kazama's earlier appearance, has now melted. Not because Kazama's fighter is completely terrible or anything, but more because Mine has evolved in such a short span. If this is his starting point, where will he go from now? He's himself into a bleed of instinct and rich boy martial arts experience, compulsively shaped and finessed every detail. Actually, should Nishikiyama have even been surprised? Maybe this is why he'd been so confident before. It hadn't been out of naivety. As Mine navigates the ring, Nishikiyama's eyes drift to the vibrant kirin on his back. He wants to see it up close.
Nishikiyama snaps for someone's attention— ]
Sake.
[ It isn't Kanda who accepts the command, someone else shuffling to pass a chilled and unopened bottle to him. He drinks it straight from there, leaning forward in his seat for a better view of Mine below when he swallows. ]
[ The window for Mine to reach back past Tashiro's guard is small after his stagger. Kazama's man thinks, too, that his offense will be a better defense—for a moment, he'd been surprised as well to find his challenger an apt fighter for someone who had no name in the ring. Mine blocks Tashiro's hook at his head, but at the same time pulling his arms up to guard his face opens up his midriff. The top of his foot slams into Mine's flank with a dull slap. ]
Hn–
[ His ribs that side shiver, sucking in a quick breath. His quick success makes Tashiro careless and him stay close. Rather than taking the needed moment to reorient himself, Mine puts his hands on the back of his neck, pulling him in– He knees into his thigh, his stomach, and his chest. The last one lets him break away with distance and leaves Tashiro wheezing. Bent over, still, when Mine's taken his step back, he leans back in to shovel up a hook at his face. Tashiro parries.
A sheen of sweat makes the harsh stage lights reflect off of Mine's cheekbones, his collarbone and his pecs, the belt of defined muscle across his shoulder blades. Both fighters are left with a step between them again. Mine notes his own shoulders lift higher, catching his breath. Tashiro too; there's no quick winner.
After he recovers enough and before he can think—seconds for the crowd just watching from outside, it feels longer in—Mine uses the space between them again. He kicks, a hard connect to Tashiro's shinbone that's evident to hurt—the man's face twists. Up at his torso, even higher up at his head– Mine's foot reaches with apparent ease, speed and strength. Blocked and blocked. Rapidly, those technicalities devolve again. Punch traded for punch, Mine's fist rasps away at the skin and bone of Tashiro's nose. ]
Ghh! [ Tashiro's knuckles are sharp and open a cut on Mine's cheek. His head snaps back with it.
One man sways more than the other. Mine dodges an unbalanced swipe. Tashiro, lunging forward, stumbles unchecked to the other side of the ring. Mine faces his back, his own kirin rearing its front legs up at where the Nishikiyama Family's sat. He kicks Tashiro into the railing. ]
[ Nishikiyama wipes his lips with the back of his hand, lowering the sake bottle against the top of his knee. With Kanda beside him yelling, complaining and groaning when Tashiro gets any sort of hit in on Mine, Nishikiyama can hardly hear his own thoughts. Somehow, though, the noise isn't bad for him. Not as it usually is, it's far better than what Kazama had left behind for him, and far more easy for him to focus on instead. His teeth bite down when Mine takes a hit on the face. The movements below suggest their family's still in the lead, but Nishikiyama imagines it will be a matter of stamina.
Swallowing down what concern had once arisen, Nishikiyama becomes more curious than anything. Wondering why or how Mine is capable of throwing such high kicks, or knowing when to grapple out to make space for himself. He's come far for only two weeks. Nishikiyama doesn't flinch when Tashiro's face hits the caging of the ring— a metallic clank ringing hard in the air. Skin splits vengefully there it seems, deserved for the earlier punch that'd sent Mine's head back.
Nishikiyama stands up beside Kanda. His cigarette glows orange when he takes another drag of it, fingers idly letting his sake bottle hang by the neck between them. The match will end soon. ]
[ Mine keeps his hands up, a return from the quick and dirty trade of blows to the textbook stance and composure he'd started with. He doesn't move, also the first time since. The spotlight on him is hot as well as bright. Beads of perspiration gather, then, and want a path down Mine's sculpted body. From his neck across his back, where sinew tugs under the skin, sweat seeks the slope of his spine. The way he's bent slightly forward, elbows just out of the way, contours the small bundles of muscles that reach around his ribs each side, too. Under the satin gleam of the colors of his tattoo, areas that are so newly done and raised are sensitive to the sudor.
His arms open up around his chest to relinquish protection. Mine feels air puff warm against his upper lip. His abs squeeze every breath as he stands upright. Tashiro is essentially down for the count. Mine hears the jeers of the crowd as more than just noise. Some are happy, some are not. Kanda's is pretty clear. He raises his head in that direction. He looks at Nishikiyama. Mine swallows—probably just—spit. His Adam's apple rolls down the front of his bared throat. Heat has collected underneath his chin and the skin shines damp. He licks up a drop of sweat that rolls over his lip. Mine wants a remedy for Nishikiyama's absence in the past weeks.
Win. The simple command buzzes in his head, easy to keep to even within the trance of the brawl. Though, with the victory already sure, Mine thinks of his own desire that'd placed him in this contest. Here's proof that he wanted Nishikiyama to have: his strength, his determination, his capability. More of himself, he'd said. Maybe most—?
His face twists. Serious, decided. He breaks eye contact. Tashiro only groans when Mine grabs and flips him on his back. The scent of his own exertion mingles with the metallic tang of blood streaming down the other's face. No one'd actually counted down; the fights are over when one of the men is out for good. Mine stands above and doesn't hesitate. He drives his fist against Tashiro's jaw so hard, that his head snaps up from the ground and lolls to the other side, limp as blood splatters across the white mat. Mine's won. ]
[ There’s a moment where he feels their gazes connect. Even from this distance, Mine is able to find Nishikiyama perhaps by finding Kanda first. Kanda, who erupts in cheer as Mine slams a fist into the face of Kazama’s fighter. With Tashiro lying still on the mat, Nishikiyama’s attention fails to abandon Mine. He weighs words on his tongue without speaking them yet. Behind the cloud of cigarette smoke he breathes, Nishikiyama’s eyes gleam with a stirred attraction that’d been dormant for two weeks. With the smell of blood hanging in the air now, he craves not prey but another creature of his own kind. ]
I have to go.
[ He hands Kanda the unfinished bottle of sake. ]
I want reports on Shindo and Arase’s matches. Keep tabs on anyone strong.
[ Then, he goes. He goes with the intent of meeting Mine in the back areas where a shower room and medic are present. He cuts a path through the bleachers and tables, through crowds asking about Mine and his background. He passes Kazama a smirk on his way out when he feels him and Kashiwagi looking. ]
[ The adrenaline wears off quickly. Mine can feel every bruise that'll form before he even reaches the backstage area. Because he's upright, and waves off anything more than a quick look, medical waits for his opponent to be hauled in. Mine feels sticky with sweat. A shower. Cold water. It's hardly longer than a rinse; all he'll use the provided amenities for. Where the analgesia had sooner abated, Mine leaves the cabin when his pulse slows.
Newly minted realization'd overcome him when he struck Tashiro's already bloody face. In the street, they'd just scrambled away before they couldn't walk anymore. He can do this, too. Remorse gets shut away behind the shower door.
Without the thought that Nishikiyama'd left the arena when he did, Mine doesn't expect him there. Almost like he's back on the stage, where he's had to squint against blinding lights, Mine looks at him and checks his expression. He's confident enough to think that it's satisfaction. Pushed back but not fixed by anything, his hair swoops down and hangs into his face when Mine bows his head. The cool water's left him with a duller sheen than the heat spread across his body in the ring. In matte, the colors of his tattoo peeking over his shoulders are still bright, though. A towel cuts the image off at the kirin's hind legs. ]
Boss– [ Mine doesn't know what to say—but it's the end of their time forced apart. He stands up. ]
Well done. [ Nishikiyama says while he looks at him.
He's run out of his cigarette. With Mine there across from him, droplets of cool water rolling over skin that's blooming mauve in spots from bruises. His eyes go to the tattooed streaks of gold and red on his shoulders when Mine bends, catching only a glimpse of the colors before Mine is upright once more. His lashes cast a little lower with his focus. ]
You won. [ And the reward for doing so is implied.
The expression on the young patriarch's face is unlike what he often shows on it and only Mine is here to witness. Satisfied is a word that matches. More than that though, he wants something from Mine— something, he thinks, in one glance that Mine will understand without him needing to speak aloud. ]
Are you okay?
[ Before hurrying out with him, he refers to the injuries. Manners. Where he is now, Nishikiyama can see places where Mine's skin had split, washed a light red now by the shower. They'll probably dry and start to scab over by the time he dresses himself. ]
[ Praise. That's why he did it. There's no more noble reason—how, when the terms of the fight itself are explicit. Mine notes the remnant smell of blood and sweat on him, not having taken the time to scrub, mixing with that of still just-warm tobacco. The invisible cloak of Nishikiyama's close presence. Now he revels in the moment, pause he couldn't take in the ring even in view of his triumph, heard over speakers.
All because privacy between them had been hidden away behind demands made of tonight. There is something that will have made worth Nishikiyama's absence, Mine's deprivation. The patriarch's gaze promises. Mine meets it, matches it. He wants to give more than his victory in the Coliseum. ]
I'm fine. [ The next day or two'll see scrapes and bruises darken, but for now. Hair gets pushed back out of his face again. He'll get dressed. Hope is that Nishikiyama can skip watching the other two fights– he's here right now. Isn't Arase's already happening? ]
Yeah. Kanda will let me know how the rest of them go.
[ Shindo and Arase are queued to follow. Though Nishikiyama doesn't say anything about his plans, he figures that Mine has caught on. He watches the hanging shorter pieces of Mine's hair get combed back and flat against his head. They stay matted down for a while, but their weight makes them fall the same way Nishikiyama's do without hair product. Nishikiyama hasn't seen him so unstyled before. ]
The other families needed to see that from you. It was good.
[ It's small talk. Nishikiyama drifts closer to the doorway and leans his back against one of the walls. His readiness to leave is apparent while Mine dresses himself. ]
[ Mine doesn't offer the indulgence of asking how Kanda'd taken it; he doesn't think Nishikiyama even wants it. He'd heard the man cheer and howl, something that quietly amazes him.
Compulsively, while getting dressed, Mine keeps pushing his hair back, until the remaining product that didn't get washed out lets it sit in some way like his normal style. Still, unusually lose. He's aware of Nishikiyama's eyes on him, they barely wander. ]
I did it for you. [ Mine's pretend to be nowhere in particular, honest but reserving something, knowing that Nishikiyama's comment hadn't been meant for much. ]
[ Nishikiyama's heart flutters in his chest at the statement, but his face only sort of winces in turn, like he doesn't know how to respond. Not out of pain, but out of unfamiliarity. He hasn't had someone say something like that to him in a long, long time. Eventually, his eyes soften beneath his brows. The look in his eyes that had been so fixed is now fleeting like he's careful to have it noticed. He finds somewhere else with his gaze. ]
Thought so. [ His throat tightens. ] —That's fine, though. I like it better that way.
[ Then, embarrassment. Should he have even said so? Mine's face is still handsome when he looks up to see it again, and Nishikiyama's mouth pulls with some uncertainty. He tries running the moment over, deliberately leaving no room or pause for Mine to linger too long on the sentiment. ]
[ Mine'd asked already, if he's wrong to think and do so. Nishikiyama's delay and changed expression almost make him want to repeat it, not because he really believes the patriarch has made up his mind differently, but to be candid in the way Nishikiyama'd commended. He'd liked praise for that, too.
Mine doesn't go searching for the look that avoids him, though. Same tightness, presumably, that squeezes Nishikiyama's throat settles beneath his breastbone. He couldn't say anything in between if the other man let him, frankly, finding himself wound around the sensation. Having another reason isn't unwelcome; he feels strange and flighty.
Nishikiyama's impatience helps– ] Yes, [ Somewhere else means something this time. Mine slides his tie up tight against the collar, replacing the other feeling. ] Let's go.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2024-02-03 10:29 pm (UTC)Another criticism of the same day'd stayed in Mine's mind. Nishikiyama'd taken issue with him never having been in a brawl, a dirty street fight. He'd gone to rectify that in a dangerous way; Mine makes himself out to be someone worth robbing in one of the many back alleys of Kamurocho's neighborhood. Once having gone in, outside the Nishikiyama Family's office hours, his looks alone'd been good bait. Then, he'd knocked out every junior criminal wanting to take his watch or his wallet. Finally, blood speckling the pavement, he'd learned it's easier when he throws the first punch.
Mine takes the same aim now, not hesitating after the gong sounds. A wide right hook at Tashiro. The arm snapping up in front of his face lets Mine know he's not facing a novice fighter—neither acknowledging that he is one. It's where studio-trained technique kicks in, though, untouched by the uncouth tactics of a yakuza scrapper.
The hook is a ruse. Mine throws a left; Tashiro sees it too but then, quickly, another right– It's the only one meant to connect. No gloves and no protection; Mine's knuckles snap hard against Tashiro's cheek. The feeling buzzes in his arm.
Nishikiyama's champion takes no pause to revel in his success. Mine's fists come up to protect his head. He sidesteps immediately, wanting distance and to keep up movement. He beat Kanda with strategies the other man simply doesn't know, and he's confident that they'll work again. Mixed martial arts; there's no "yakuza" style, is there? Mine kicks in front of him in a wide sweep, testing his reach and Tashiro's reaction—who stays defensive, shaking his daze.
Mine doesn't seem afraid. Although he has hardly time to recognize it above the clamor of the crowd—none to wonder why, even, when Mine just cost him his spot—maybe it's thanks to Kanda cheering him on?
Tashiro tries to retaliate, directing a roundhouse kick to do damage. Mine shoves his foot against the leg keeping balance and Tashiro buckles at the knee. Mine keeps moving. ]
no subject
Date: 2024-02-04 01:55 am (UTC)Mine is talented. What worry had been in Nishikiyama's stomach, made anxious by Kazama's earlier appearance, has now melted. Not because Kazama's fighter is completely terrible or anything, but more because Mine has evolved in such a short span. If this is his starting point, where will he go from now? He's himself into a bleed of instinct and rich boy martial arts experience, compulsively shaped and finessed every detail. Actually, should Nishikiyama have even been surprised? Maybe this is why he'd been so confident before. It hadn't been out of naivety. As Mine navigates the ring, Nishikiyama's eyes drift to the vibrant kirin on his back. He wants to see it up close.
Nishikiyama snaps for someone's attention— ]
Sake.
[ It isn't Kanda who accepts the command, someone else shuffling to pass a chilled and unopened bottle to him. He drinks it straight from there, leaning forward in his seat for a better view of Mine below when he swallows. ]
no subject
Date: 2024-02-04 05:13 pm (UTC)Hn–
[ His ribs that side shiver, sucking in a quick breath. His quick success makes Tashiro careless and him stay close. Rather than taking the needed moment to reorient himself, Mine puts his hands on the back of his neck, pulling him in– He knees into his thigh, his stomach, and his chest. The last one lets him break away with distance and leaves Tashiro wheezing. Bent over, still, when Mine's taken his step back, he leans back in to shovel up a hook at his face. Tashiro parries.
A sheen of sweat makes the harsh stage lights reflect off of Mine's cheekbones, his collarbone and his pecs, the belt of defined muscle across his shoulder blades. Both fighters are left with a step between them again. Mine notes his own shoulders lift higher, catching his breath. Tashiro too; there's no quick winner.
After he recovers enough and before he can think—seconds for the crowd just watching from outside, it feels longer in—Mine uses the space between them again. He kicks, a hard connect to Tashiro's shinbone that's evident to hurt—the man's face twists. Up at his torso, even higher up at his head– Mine's foot reaches with apparent ease, speed and strength. Blocked and blocked. Rapidly, those technicalities devolve again. Punch traded for punch, Mine's fist rasps away at the skin and bone of Tashiro's nose. ]
Ghh! [ Tashiro's knuckles are sharp and open a cut on Mine's cheek. His head snaps back with it.
One man sways more than the other. Mine dodges an unbalanced swipe. Tashiro, lunging forward, stumbles unchecked to the other side of the ring. Mine faces his back, his own kirin rearing its front legs up at where the Nishikiyama Family's sat. He kicks Tashiro into the railing. ]
no subject
Date: 2024-02-04 05:34 pm (UTC)Swallowing down what concern had once arisen, Nishikiyama becomes more curious than anything. Wondering why or how Mine is capable of throwing such high kicks, or knowing when to grapple out to make space for himself. He's come far for only two weeks. Nishikiyama doesn't flinch when Tashiro's face hits the caging of the ring— a metallic clank ringing hard in the air. Skin splits vengefully there it seems, deserved for the earlier punch that'd sent Mine's head back.
Nishikiyama stands up beside Kanda. His cigarette glows orange when he takes another drag of it, fingers idly letting his sake bottle hang by the neck between them. The match will end soon. ]
no subject
Date: 2024-02-05 12:30 am (UTC)His arms open up around his chest to relinquish protection. Mine feels air puff warm against his upper lip. His abs squeeze every breath as he stands upright. Tashiro is essentially down for the count. Mine hears the jeers of the crowd as more than just noise. Some are happy, some are not. Kanda's is pretty clear. He raises his head in that direction. He looks at Nishikiyama. Mine swallows—probably just—spit. His Adam's apple rolls down the front of his bared throat. Heat has collected underneath his chin and the skin shines damp. He licks up a drop of sweat that rolls over his lip. Mine wants a remedy for Nishikiyama's absence in the past weeks.
Win. The simple command buzzes in his head, easy to keep to even within the trance of the brawl. Though, with the victory already sure, Mine thinks of his own desire that'd placed him in this contest. Here's proof that he wanted Nishikiyama to have: his strength, his determination, his capability. More of himself, he'd said. Maybe most—?
His face twists. Serious, decided. He breaks eye contact. Tashiro only groans when Mine grabs and flips him on his back. The scent of his own exertion mingles with the metallic tang of blood streaming down the other's face. No one'd actually counted down; the fights are over when one of the men is out for good. Mine stands above and doesn't hesitate. He drives his fist against Tashiro's jaw so hard, that his head snaps up from the ground and lolls to the other side, limp as blood splatters across the white mat. Mine's won. ]
no subject
Date: 2024-02-05 08:38 am (UTC)I have to go.
[ He hands Kanda the unfinished bottle of sake. ]
I want reports on Shindo and Arase’s matches. Keep tabs on anyone strong.
[ Then, he goes. He goes with the intent of meeting Mine in the back areas where a shower room and medic are present. He cuts a path through the bleachers and tables, through crowds asking about Mine and his background. He passes Kazama a smirk on his way out when he feels him and Kashiwagi looking. ]
no subject
Date: 2024-02-06 09:27 am (UTC)Newly minted realization'd overcome him when he struck Tashiro's already bloody face. In the street, they'd just scrambled away before they couldn't walk anymore. He can do this, too. Remorse gets shut away behind the shower door.
Without the thought that Nishikiyama'd left the arena when he did, Mine doesn't expect him there. Almost like he's back on the stage, where he's had to squint against blinding lights, Mine looks at him and checks his expression. He's confident enough to think that it's satisfaction. Pushed back but not fixed by anything, his hair swoops down and hangs into his face when Mine bows his head. The cool water's left him with a duller sheen than the heat spread across his body in the ring. In matte, the colors of his tattoo peeking over his shoulders are still bright, though. A towel cuts the image off at the kirin's hind legs. ]
Boss– [ Mine doesn't know what to say—but it's the end of their time forced apart. He stands up. ]
no subject
Date: 2024-02-06 11:21 am (UTC)He's run out of his cigarette. With Mine there across from him, droplets of cool water rolling over skin that's blooming mauve in spots from bruises. His eyes go to the tattooed streaks of gold and red on his shoulders when Mine bends, catching only a glimpse of the colors before Mine is upright once more. His lashes cast a little lower with his focus. ]
You won. [ And the reward for doing so is implied.
The expression on the young patriarch's face is unlike what he often shows on it and only Mine is here to witness. Satisfied is a word that matches. More than that though, he wants something from Mine— something, he thinks, in one glance that Mine will understand without him needing to speak aloud. ]
Are you okay?
[ Before hurrying out with him, he refers to the injuries. Manners. Where he is now, Nishikiyama can see places where Mine's skin had split, washed a light red now by the shower. They'll probably dry and start to scab over by the time he dresses himself. ]
no subject
Date: 2024-02-06 01:25 pm (UTC)[ Praise. That's why he did it. There's no more noble reason—how, when the terms of the fight itself are explicit. Mine notes the remnant smell of blood and sweat on him, not having taken the time to scrub, mixing with that of still just-warm tobacco. The invisible cloak of Nishikiyama's close presence. Now he revels in the moment, pause he couldn't take in the ring even in view of his triumph, heard over speakers.
All because privacy between them had been hidden away behind demands made of tonight. There is something that will have made worth Nishikiyama's absence, Mine's deprivation. The patriarch's gaze promises. Mine meets it, matches it. He wants to give more than his victory in the Coliseum. ]
I'm fine. [ The next day or two'll see scrapes and bruises darken, but for now. Hair gets pushed back out of his face again. He'll get dressed. Hope is that Nishikiyama can skip watching the other two fights– he's here right now. Isn't Arase's already happening? ]
We can leave. [ Mine thinks so. ]
no subject
Date: 2024-02-06 01:44 pm (UTC)[ Shindo and Arase are queued to follow. Though Nishikiyama doesn't say anything about his plans, he figures that Mine has caught on. He watches the hanging shorter pieces of Mine's hair get combed back and flat against his head. They stay matted down for a while, but their weight makes them fall the same way Nishikiyama's do without hair product. Nishikiyama hasn't seen him so unstyled before. ]
The other families needed to see that from you. It was good.
[ It's small talk. Nishikiyama drifts closer to the doorway and leans his back against one of the walls. His readiness to leave is apparent while Mine dresses himself. ]
no subject
Date: 2024-02-06 03:35 pm (UTC)Compulsively, while getting dressed, Mine keeps pushing his hair back, until the remaining product that didn't get washed out lets it sit in some way like his normal style. Still, unusually lose. He's aware of Nishikiyama's eyes on him, they barely wander. ]
I did it for you. [ Mine's pretend to be nowhere in particular, honest but reserving something, knowing that Nishikiyama's comment hadn't been meant for much. ]
no subject
Date: 2024-02-06 03:49 pm (UTC)Thought so. [ His throat tightens. ] —That's fine, though. I like it better that way.
[ Then, embarrassment. Should he have even said so? Mine's face is still handsome when he looks up to see it again, and Nishikiyama's mouth pulls with some uncertainty. He tries running the moment over, deliberately leaving no room or pause for Mine to linger too long on the sentiment. ]
You done? Hurry up, let's go somewhere else.
no subject
Date: 2024-02-07 09:12 am (UTC)Mine doesn't go searching for the look that avoids him, though. Same tightness, presumably, that squeezes Nishikiyama's throat settles beneath his breastbone. He couldn't say anything in between if the other man let him, frankly, finding himself wound around the sensation. Having another reason isn't unwelcome; he feels strange and flighty.
Nishikiyama's impatience helps– ] Yes, [ Somewhere else means something this time. Mine slides his tie up tight against the collar, replacing the other feeling. ] Let's go.