#I say knowing full well that once I get through the Jason pov reaction piece this will be reordered to part 4 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

donttouchmeimwriting · 3 years

Text

Argo ch. 3

Friday the 13th - Friendship/Romance - Jason Voorhees/OC M/M ship

2983 words, 3rd person POV

I'm just as surprised as you are that I'm cranking these out so fast. Thanks, NaNoWriMo!

Cross-posting on FFN under PyroTheWereCat

...

Saturday dragged so sluggishly for Jason as he waited impatiently to visit Lijah again. He spent the day stalking the outskirts of the camp, trying to watch Lijah as he worked. He was fascinated by Lijah's effect on others; it was clearly shown that it wasn't just Jason who was compelled to change behavior simply by listening to him. The kids loved him, and he was popular with the other counselors as well. Jason caught himself daydreaming a few too many times of being one of them and being able to spend the day with Lijah out in the open like they could.

During one of these moments, Jason stared off across the surface of the lake, the sunlight sparkling across the ripples in the water. He wondered what would have happened over a decade ago if Lijah had been at the camp with him...would the other kids have been enraptured by his presence and listened to him then? Would Jason and Lijah have become friends as quickly as children as they had as adults? Or was it their personal experiences that drew them together now and they were all the better for it?

"Enjoying the view?"

Jason spun to face the speaker, relieved it was only Lijah. Lijah laughed at his reaction and looked out across the lake to see what Jason was seeing.

"It is gorgeous out here, isn't it?" he sighed, his expression dreamy, "I've worked at a few different camps over the years but I think Crystal Lake is my favorite."

Jason's heart still pounded in his chest, despite the surprise having worn off. Why was he so nervous to stand here next to Lijah like this? Did the others feel this way around him too?

"Oh, hey!" Lijah said suddenly, pointing down at the nearest dock where two campers and another counselor stood, "That's Terry and Kira over there with Julie. Kira was bullying Terry since day one of camp, saying she looked ratty and pushing her down - you know, stupid kid insults like that. Terry didn't want to be a tattletale, so she wouldn't say who was picking on her, even though we all knew. The director has a rule that we can't interfere unless the kids come forward so we were stuck for a little while. The other counselors and I came up with a detective game to make Kira realize she was doing something wrong and hurtful and she came forward on her own yesterday to admit it. She's been doing great today at making up with Terry and I think they'll be friends really soon. It's so cool what a little positive reinforcement can do."

Lijah crossed his arms over his chest and gazed proudly out at the two kids, but Jason couldn't stop staring at Lijah. What was it he was feeling right now? Impressed at his ability to handle bullies in a way that the counselors when he was a child never could, certainly, but what else? What was it about Lijah that made Jason want to throw his machete in the lake and never hurt anyone again?

"What's up?" Lijah asked, noticing Jason staring at him, "Did I say something wrong?"

Jason shook his head, but could not tear his eyes away. Lijah had his hair tied back today, pulling it off of his neck and away from his face. There was sweat around his hairline, sticking strands of hair to him in tiny swirls and lines. His freckles were more pronounced in the daylight, and his tanned skin almost glowed, even in the shade of the trees. To Jason, this view was much more appealing than the lake.

"Alrighty then," Lijah said, shrugging it off, "Anyway, I just wanted to say hi since I saw you hanging around up here, but I gotta get back to my group. I'm seeing you tonight, right?"

Jason nodded fervently, excited by every second he got to spend with Lijah. Lijah smiled broadly and waved as he set off back to the camp.

"See you later, Jase!" he called.

Jason gave a small wave back, his stomach full of butterflies. He decided he didn't care why he was feeling this way or what it was about Lijah he liked so much. He felt immeasurably and inexplicably happy for the first time in a long time and he didn't want to overthink it. After all, wasn't that what his mother wanted for him?

-------------------------------------------------

Jason returned to cabin 5 that evening a little earlier than planned. The sun had set, but the sky was still relatively light and the camp was winding down from the day. Jason looked through the bedroom window, but Lijah was not in there yet. He tested the window to see if it was unlocked, and to his luck, it was. He checked his surroundings to ensure no one would see him struggle to squeeze through the narrow opening. It was embarrassing enough that Lijah had to see it last night. The coast was clear, so Jason pushed himself into the bedroom, nearly getting stuck in the process. Once inside, he straightened up and closed the window so bugs would not get in. It struck him as he looked around that he was in Lijah's private room alone.

A little snooping couldn't hurt, right? Jason allowed his eagerness to drive his actions as he explored Lijah's room. He first looked in the dresser drawers to see what other clothes Lijah had besides his work shirts and shorts. From the brief snoop, it seemed that Lijah liked light, muted colors and pants with deep pockets. He also seemed to be a fan of chunky bracelets and wristbands, probably to camouflage and support his delicate wrists.

From there, Jason moved to the books on top of the dresser. Adventure novels, a couple college textbooks in the subjects Lijah had specified as his course of study, some notebooks, including the one Jason had used to communicate with last night, and one romance, all paperbacks that looked well used. Curious about the romance novel, Jason flipped through the pages. Mother never had these kinds of books at home, so he wasn't sure what to expect. His eyes fell upon a passage that described a kiss between the heroine and her strapping, yet emotionally manipulative love interest:

"...her cerulean orbs meeting his stormy grey ones in a passionate stare before their lips collided in a kiss so fiery, so full of desire, it would warm the hardened coals of even Wyatt's darkened heart. Charlie swooned into his massive arms, surrendering herself to his rough touch. Wyatt growled into the kiss, his stubble scratchy against her smooth face, but not unbearable. He gripped the back of her neck possessively, but Charlie knew it was part of his insecurity in that he never wanted to let her go. Funny, she thought before the intensity of the kiss forced her mind to become a blank slate of ecstasy, He won't talk about his abandonment issues, but I can feel them here in his kiss..."

Jason set the book down, frowning. Did Lijah really see himself in this Wyatt character? It didn't seem right, but it probably wasn't important. Jason turned instead to the notebooks, but they were mostly blank aside from sparse doodles, camp schedules, and Jason's shaky handwriting. He put the notebooks back where they were and opened the door to the rest of the cabin.

Across from this door was the door to the bathroom, but Jason didn't need that at the moment, so he ignored it and proceeded left down a short hallway to the living area. The hallway opened up to a tiny kitchen and dinette on the right and an ancient, faded couch with a rickety coffee table and an old antenna TV and VCR atop it. This area was not as bright and full of Lijah's personality as the bedroom was, but Jason figured that was to be expected. His own bedroom at home was a reflection of what few interests and hobbies he had. The bedroom was a sanctuary for the individual, and held a piece of their soul. At least, that's what a bedroom should be. Mother had told Jason all about the filthy, lecherous activities young people would get up to in bedrooms. Only a married couple should share a bed, she had told him. It was a sin otherwise.

Feeling slightly hungry, Jason made for the short refrigerator, needing to squat down to see its contents. A couple sandwiches wrapped in plastic occupied one shelf with a handful of apples on the lower shelf, some cans of soda on the door. Jason reached for one of each, hoping to finish them before Lijah returned to avoid accidentally showing him his face. He brought the food to the couch and sat down, his weight causing the seat to sink lower than it was meant to. He removed his mask and devoured the sandwich and apple as quickly as he could, feeling somewhat like a ravenous raccoon. He cracked open the soda can and chugged it, realizing too late that it was a bad idea to drink a carbonated beverage so fast. Bubbles surged up through his nose and he sputtered, covering his face so he did not spray soda everywhere. He coughed and gagged, but the feeling soon went away. He made a mental note to drink anything bubbly as slow as possible, but preferred the idea of never having soda again. It was too sweet for him anyway.

Finished with the meal, Jason located a small trash can at one end of the kitchen and disposed of the remains. He pulled his mask back on just as he heard the front door to the cabin open. He tensed, preparing for a fight, but it was Lijah, alone, who gave a start upon seeing Jason's towering figure in his living room.

"Oh gosh, you got me again!" he cried out, laughing nervously, "You're here early."

Jason nodded once and watched as Lijah locked up and set down the pack he was carrying near the door.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, a tiredness in his voice that worried Jason. Would he be able to stay up tonight? Did he stay up too late last night? Jason shook his head and pointed to the refrigerator, silently telling Lijah he had found the food. Lijah yawned.

"Oh, good," he said, shuffling towards the bedroom, "Sorry, I'm a little worn out from today. We can still hang out, but I might crash a little earlier than last night if that's okay."

Jason nodded and followed him. Lijah turned to the dresser and tilted his head at the stack of books.

"You checked out the romance novel?" he asked, disbelief in his voice, "Huh, didn't see that one coming. It's not very good, but it was free, so I figured why not, y'know?"

So Lijah didn't choose that book for the plot, Jason realized. That made much more sense. Lijah opened the drawers and retrieved a stack of clothes, brushing by Jason to head to the bathroom.

"You can relax in the bedroom if you want for about fifteen minutes while I shower," he said, stifling another yawn, "I'll try to get my bedtime routine done quick so we have some time together."

Jason had no problem with waiting for him to prepare for bed. He was happy just to be in the same building with him and not anxiously wonder where he was like before. Jason sat on the edge of the bed, having grabbed the notebook and pencil he'd used yesterday in preparation for the conversation he would be having tonight. He heard the shower turn on in the bathroom, and an unwelcome thought of what Lijah looked like in there sprung into Jason's mind. Startled by this, Jason shook himself. What was he thinking? His mother's warning about college aged young adults surfaced and he wondered, horrified, if these thoughts would consume his brain like the counselors he'd killed or if he could fight them and keep his head clear and pure. What would happen to him if he couldn't get rid of them?

Jason struggled with this fear until the sound of the water stopped and he heard Lijah moving around in the bathroom. He squeezed the edges of the notebook to ground himself. What would Mother say if she knew what he was thinking about? Realistically, she would probably forbid him from coming back here and have him read Bible passages until the thoughts went away. Mother knew what was best for Jason.

Lijah entered the room once he was done in the bathroom, his hair still damp and his cheeks slightly flushed from the steam. He wore a loose fitting navy blue t-shirt with an unfamiliar logo on the chest and green plaid boxers. He brought with him a wonderful, clean scent of shampoo and mint flavored toothpaste. Jason wrote on a fresh page of the notebook,

"feel better?"

Lijah hummed in agreement, stretching his arms over his head until his shoulders softly popped.

"Nothing like a hot shower to take the day off and get you ready for bed," he said, climbing up onto the mattress next to Jason, "How's your day been?"

Jason thought about it, but didn't want to be too honest that he had pretty much just been waiting all day for this meeting. He wrote,

"did alot of walking. liked what u said about the bully. ur really good with kids."

Lijah waved him off modestly.

"Aw, that wasn't just me," he replied sheepishly, "I can't take all the credit. All of us counselors worked together on that. They're a good group of people. I'm glad I got the chance to work with them."

Jason tilted his head to one side, his interest piqued by this statement. So all the counselors were good, not just Lijah? Would Jason even need to kill anyone this year, or had the nightmare of wicked counselors finally ended? He wondered what his life would become if he didn't come here to kill every summer. It would probably be much like last year, quiet and content with his mother, having everything they needed and just going day to day, living the life she built for them. But Jason knew he couldn't live that life now. He wanted his life to include his new friend, and he wasn't sure how he could do that, with Lijah going back to college at the end of the summer and moving into an apartment somewhere probably far away.

Lijah tilted his head to mirror Jason and catch his attention.

"What's on your mind, big guy?" he asked. Jason considered his next few words and decided to avoid the topic. He wrote,

"u said u had a sister rite? tell me about her?"

Lijah's entire face lit up with a huge smile and his joy was so infectious, Jason couldn't resist matching the expression.

"Phoebe!" he exclaimed, "She's the best little sister anyone could hope for. We're thirteen years apart, so I'm pretty protective of her, and it was really hard for me to go away to college and leave her behind. I call home once a week and send her letters every month of cool stuff I've learned or seen. She likes bugs and dolls and dinosaurs. Our parents won't let her see Jurassic Park though - that's a scary movie about dinosaurs - but I think she can handle it. She's a tough kid. Definitely way tougher than I was at her age. I used to get beat up in school for being, uh, different."

Jason felt a surge of protectiveness for Lijah, though he didn't know who had hurt him. How could anyone even want to hurt someone like Lijah? He curled his fingers into the bedspread, fists shaking with anger. Lijah noticed and addressed it,

"Hey, it was years ago; don't worry about it! Besides, I'm a lover, not a fighter. I'd rather solve my problems with communication than violence."

Jason nodded and forced himself to relax. What was he going to do anyway? Find the bullies and kill them even though they probably haven't been anywhere near Lijah in years? Stupid. Jason tried to explain his thoughts by writing,

"sorry bullies make me real mad. i got bullied to."

Lijah offered a sympathetic look. He moved a hand towards Jason, but rethought the action and stopped, biting his lip.

"I bet they wouldn't mess with you now though!" he said instead, trying to look at the bright side, "I bet they'd take one look at how tall and muscular you got and run away. The machete helps too."

Jason grimaced under the mask. That probably wouldn't be the only reason they ran away...Still, Lijah meant well and he couldn't blame him for trying. It was more effort than anyone had put in before, and that was worth something.

-------------------------------------------------

The conversation continued for a short while, but Lijah soon began nodding off. In one of their quiet moments, Jason looked over and saw Lijah slumped on his pillows, sound asleep. Jason sighed and took that as his cue to leave. He rose from the bed and set down the notebook on the dresser. He looked back at Lijah, bemused by his awkwardly scrunched limbs and his face pressed unflatteringly into the pillows, before turning off the light and leaving through the window to let him sleep.

It was moments like these that Jason was beginning to dislike his heightened energy levels during night time. It worked great for serial killing, but not so much for spending time with a friend. But he was beginning to have a hope and some confidence that things would work out and that he and Lijah would find some sort of rhythm together.

#friday the 13th fanfiction #friday the 13th #jason voorhees #canon/oc #slasher fanfiction #slashers #argo fic

15 notes · View notes

the-voltage-diaries · 4 years

Text

Embrasse-Moi (Part 2) - Eisuke Ichinomiya x Soryu Oh

For, @kbtbbposts. Hi. It’s been a while. (Lmfao utter lies, it’s been over a month). I’m sorry for the delay <3

‘Embrasse moi’: French for ‘Kiss me’.

Disclaimer: Guy x Guy, Suggestive. Also there’s cussing here so tread carefully who am I kidding all of us love an Eisuke and a Soryu who say fuck and also do it later on. Also, this chapter includes the PoVs of both characters, i.e Eisuke and Soryu (totally not just for the heck of it) First it’s Eisuke, then Soryu and then back to Eisuke. The change of banners will tell you.

Word count: 3022. Lol the least I can do in an attempt to make up for the delay is publish a long ass chapter.

P.S.: I’m always open for feedback. Feel free to hit my asks anytime, about any of my works (you can ask as anonymous if you don’t want me to know who you are lol)

I wake up to the sound of something chiming near my head.

With one of my arms draped lazily over Soryu’s sleeping figure, I reach out for my mobile with the other. As soon as I type in the password and check the mail, I almost immediately regret it. Sighing, I place the phone back on the nightstand and turn around to face Soryu’s back, conveniently ignoring the message, ready to doze off again for a little bit.

The moment my eyes close, my phone starts buzzing. An annoyed huff escapes me before I manage to find the device again and answer the call.

“Good morning, Ichinomiya!” Jason says on the other end of the line, his voice retaining its usual cheeriness even at 7AM in the morning. Does this man not sleep, or what.

“What do you want.”

“Yes, yes, Eisuke. I’m doing well, thank you for asking,” the fucker says, sarcasm practically dripping from his words, “How about yourself?”

“Bye.” I mutter, about to hang up. Don’t get me wrong, but I have neither the time nor the desire to be happy go lucky for someone who ruined my peaceful morning.

“Hold your horses, mister. I called for a reason, actually.”

Then get to it already, damnit.

“I wanted to let you know we’re meeting at my office at ten-thirty today. Works for you?”

“Mm,” I reply, sitting up as I think. I feel Soryu stir beside me and I pause, not wanting to wake him up. But instead of opening his eyes and waking up, he just turns around and wraps an arm around my lap, nestling into it as if I was a body pillow. “Yeah. I’ll be there.”

“Okay, see you then.”

I hang up and run my fingers through my hair, letting myself enjoy the calm for a minute more before I need to get up. The moment I lift myself off the bed, I feel Soryu stir again at the loss of contact, but he manages to grab on to a nearby pillow to make up for it.

I’ll admit, for a moment I am tempted to rip that pillow out of his hands and get back into the bed with him, because Eisuke Ichinomiya doesn’t take kindly to being replaced, but I quickly shake my head to dismiss the thought.

I take a quick shower and put on my shirt, opting for my usual formal attire. Every little movement of mine is made quietly with the desire to not wake him up, because I know he needs the sleep if he doesn’t want to face the full wrath of a terrible hangover.

“Mmm,” he groans, still fully asleep, having no idea of the tough morning that awaits him. Speaking of hangovers, I walk over to the landline in the room and dial up the reception, trying to choose between the ideas of letting his hangover kill him or being a good citizen and saving his sorry ass.

“Morning, I’d like a bottle of ibuprofen and a glass of water in my room, and make it quick,” I tell the receptionist and hang up, my eyes catching the sight of a small notebook and pen on the nightstand.

I grab the pen and open the notebook, smirking as I write down a few words.

“I’m out to meet Jason for the business you definitely fucked up yesterday. I hope you’re no longer a man-child who yells ‘I am batman’ out of nowhere. On the off chance you are, let me remind you that puking on the bed is something you shouldn’t be doing.” “P.S. Yes, you did actually yell ‘I am batman’ yesterday.”

I tear the piece of paper and place the note beside him on my side of the bed, already imaging his reaction in my head.

I wake up with the unquenchable desire to throw my head into either a toilet or a paper bag.

The light blaring into the room through the windows feels nothing less than needles pricking into my eyes. As soon as my eyes adjust to the light, I get off the bed and make my way towards the bathroom, although barely in time. My hands grab on to the sides of the toilet seat as if it were a life support and my stomach somersaults as I vomit its contents out.

It, no doubt, is one of the worst hangovers of my life. This is also the first time the hangover is so bad that I feel the need to puke, that it doesn’t just stop at a headache. I can hold my liquor well, and have never had to face a lot of them, but this one is so violent that the back of my throat stings.

What in the hecks did I drink last night? How bad was it?

The memories of last night start to flood in, although they are fragmented beyond repair. The last thing I remember as clear as day is the time Eisuke and I met Jason at the bar. I vaguely recall us having a discussion over a few drinks and Eisuke walking out to take a call.

“That bastard,” I hiss, remembering the part where Jason showed me a new drink, the name of which I don’t remember, and asked me to try it. That’s where my brain starts getting fuzzy again.

A broken, foggy memory of the man laughing at my intoxicated ass passes through the front of my mind.

“Fuck.”

I got drunk.

Scratch that, I got wasted.

I got wasted at a meeting where I was supposed to remain in control of myself.

Damn it, Soryu. Could it get any worse?

That’s when I realise, yes, it could. And yes, it definitely did.

Wait a second. What happened after that? How did I make it back to the fucking room? Don’t tell me, did Eisuke bring me back?

I slowly lift myself up and walk back to the door of the bathroom. I try to remember what happened after I got completely inebriated but nothing comes to mind. My eyes sweep the room for a sign of anything that would help me at least piece the broken fragments of last night in some sort of a cohesive sequence. I don’t find any sign of Eisuke, but instead, my eyes stop at a note lying on his side of the bed.

Before I can so much as take a step in its direction, though, I feel the world go for a toss and my body once again turns back to the support of the toilet… only to throw up again. I hold the commode tightly as my body heaves, tired after spilling the contents of last night twice now. I take a moment to calm down and then get up and make my way towards the note I remember seeing.

Out of all the things to do, why the fuck did I do that?

Sweet mother of holy crap.

If Eisuke is to be believed, which he mostly is, the only way to describe my behaviour last night would be complete madness. My fingers clench around the paper in embarrassment, clutching it hard while my feet carry me back to the bathroom to clean myself up. Just when I think I have regained control over my exhausted self, I feel my stomach do a practice run-through of a gymnastics session as my body lurches forward, spilling its remaining contents into the toilet.

“Ah, shit,” I mutter, resting my head on the back of my palm, my eyes stinging with the pain of throwing up thrice this time, “I’m never drinking anything Jason gives me, ever again.”

“That sounds like a wise decision,” Ichinomiya butts in. Funny, because he doesn’t have a butt, really. Although cracking jokes right now isn’t really my best option.

My body agrees, because his voice coming out of nowhere makes my shoulders jump in an almost comedic way and I whip my head to look back at him like a literal deer caught in headlights. He’s keeping his jacket on the bed and chuckling at my reaction as we speak.

“I see you didn’t puke on the bed,” He smirks, undoing the top button of his shirt. “Very considerate of you.”

“Shut up, Ichinomiya,” I say, turning around and sitting down so that my back is against the toilet seat.

I hear his footsteps as I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. I roll my head back, regretting everything that has led me to this situation. Before long, a dull pain starts pulsating through my head and that’s all it takes for me to know I’m in for a crappy headache for breakfast. Just as I am about to let out an annoyed groan, I hear Eisuke’s footsteps cease a short distance away. “Here, have this.”

I open my eyes slowly and blink a couple of times before looking up at him. He is leaning against the door leading to the bathroom, holding a glass of water in one hand and a bottle of ibuprofen in the other.

I reach out to grab the bottle and take a pill out, muttering a low thanks, and take the glass of water from him. It doesn’t take me long to swallow the pill gratefully, and I notice Eisuke take a few steps forward and sit down beside me on the floor. My fingers freeze in the middle of tightening the bottle cap as I stare at him, then at the spot he is sitting on, then back at him.

Is this Ichinomiya? Or am I in some fucked up fantasy land?

I blink for a second or two before looking at him again.

There is no way in hell this pain in the ass without an ass is sitting on the floor right now.

“What.” He asks when he sees me staring at him for a whole minute… or at least a whole minute.

“Are you okay?”

He turns his head to look at me, raising a brow.

“Why is Your Royal Highness sitting on the floor of a bathroom?” I ask, overlooking the throbbing in my head for a moment to smirk at him. Of course, it’s just for a moment because the moment that moment gets over, my headache comes back to me with full force.

Needless to say, he ignores the jab. Instead, he bends his body a little closer to my own and looks up at me, and I almost lose my shit again at the actual look of concern he gives me. “Feeling better?” he asks, his face close enough that I can smell his cologne.

Which is worth noticing, because he doesn’t wear strong scents. “I… yeah, I’m fine,” I say, focusing on the way a few strands of his hair fall over his eyes. I’m not sure why I have a faint feeling that he is about to kiss me.

The moment that thought enters my mind, a few more fragments from yesterday come back to me. I vaguely remember bits and pieces of the scene where Eisuke helped me out of my business clothes and put on the casual ones. I recall a small bit where I brought my face closer to his and before I can walk through it any further, the memory cuts out, leaving a throbbing pain in its wake.

Wait… does that mean we kissed last night?

“Okay, enough small talk,” he says, stopping me from thinking any further, “We have a long day ahead of us and you might want to freshen up if you want to play a productive role in it.”

“Give me a break, my head feels like someone has opened a club in here.”

“You’ve got 20 minutes.”

... Motherfucker.

Soryu places the platinum key card in front of the card reader and the door to our room slides open to allow the both of us to enter. It is now eight-thirty in the evening, and the both of us are a little tired because wow, it was a long day.

Since I already finished the business part of our trip this morning with Jason, Soryu and I were free to do whatever we wanted for the rest of the day. I took him out for brunch to a private little restaurant just a little way away from the main city and gave him a run-down of the crux of what happened in the meeting this morning. After brunch, we went for a little sightseeing around town and on Soryu’s suggestion, checked out some of the local spots he knew about - much to my dismay, of course.

Why? Well, the crowds here are no joke, and we couldn’t take the limo so we had to walk around the city. Yes, we had to walk around the streets. In a city full of people. People left and right. People front and back. People here, people there. Basically every fucking where. No wonder I was drained out.

“Let’s pack our bags before calling it a night, yeah?” Soryu says, pulling me out of my reverie. I look around the room and find it to be just as clean and fresh as it was the night we checked in.

“Mm,” I hum, walking into the room and towards my suitcase. Placing it on the bed, I walk over and open the door to my side of the closet and take a handful of clothes. I start packing my bags and I see Soryu following suit.

He starts gathering his clothes and after he is done packing the ones in the closet, he reaches out to the ones we wore yesterday. They are placed on one side of the bed, clean and folded, thanks to the room service. As soon as his fingers come in contact with the blue shirt I made him wear to bed last night, I notice him pause mid-way.

“What is it?” I ask when he doesn’t move for a few moments. He doesn’t answer me immediately, looking almost as if he was in the middle of thinking something deep. “Earth to Soryu,” I call out again, and he finally gives a non-committal hum. “What is it?” I ask one more time, even though I hate repeating myself.

“Uh, some pieces of last night are coming back to me,” he says, closing his eyes as one of his hands starts massaging his temple.

That should be a good thing, right? What’s got him so serious?

I stop thinking when I see his eyes open in my periphery, and he slowly lifts his head up to look at me. “Did we kiss? I-I mean, did I kiss you last night?” He blurts out, and I look at him only to see his face looking in my direction without its usual emotionlessness.

Wait, is that even a word?

“I don’t-” he cuts in, stopping my thoughts midway, “Th- I don’t think that’s possib-”

“Yes.” I interrupt, not wanting him to dismiss it just like that. “Yes, we kissed last night.” He freezes completely. He just looks at me in what seems like complete shock, and doesn’t speak for a few moments before he finally comes to his senses.

“Fuck, I’m sorr-”

“There’s nothing to apologise for,” I say, taking a step towards him. “So, don’t.”

“No, Eisuke,” He says, taking a small step back, “You don’t get it. I was completely out of my mind and I shouldn’t have-”

“You don’t regret it, do you?” I ask, taking another step towards him to cut him off.

He takes another step back and pauses, contemplating. He looks like someone just asked him to give up on omelettes, which would be comical enough to make me chuckle any other day except right now, I am not in the mood for jokes.

“The kiss,” I repeat, taking another step in his direction.

Goddamnit, how many more times will I have to repeat myself in this one god forsaken day?

“Do you regret it, Soryu?” I ask, my voice low, and he tries to take another step back - only to bump into the wall behind him.

“Should I?” He suddenly says, looking up, his eyes staring into my own. I take the one last step towards him that brings us just mere inches away from each other.

“I don’t know about you,” I whisper, and I see his breath quicken, “But I don’t.”

“You don’t?” He repeats, his voice cracking. A light blush creeps into his cheeks as I take one small step forward, now almost pressing our bodies to each other’s.

I bring a finger up to his face and graze his jawline with it, slowly trailing it down his chin and along his neck. His eyes involuntarily close at the contact and he takes a sharp breath. “No, Soryu,” I whisper, my other hand finding its way to his side, lightly scratching over the cloth, “I don’t.”

I hear his breathing pick up some more pace as he dips his head, his forehead barely touching my shoulder. I bring my face closer to his ear and I feel him catch his breath, his body ceasing all movement.

“There seems to be a lot of confusion between us,” I whisper, and I watch as his body shudders slightly the moment those words leave my mouth, “How about we do something to ensure there is no more confusion?”

“A-and what is that?” He chokes out, nearly melting when my tongue slides down his ear.

Fuck, Soryu.

He lets out a pleased hum at the touch, and I barely manage to keep it all together.

Oh god, this is going to be the death of me.

His hands come to rest on my chest, his fingers folding against my shirt.

“Soryu Oh,” I whisper, my fingers reaching out to hold him by the back of his neck while my teeth nibbled on his earlobe, “Let me fucking kiss you.”

He gasps, his fingers coiling around the fabric of my shirt. After a pause, he answers me in breath so shallow I almost don’t catch it.

An answer that makes me lose my fucking mind.

“Okay.”

47 notes · View notes