He's grown out of it, I'm sure. Besides, he was young. We're old and I suppose there's no growing out of this for me.
(the subtext is there, however. for him, but there could be a place out there for baji. one he doesn't have to deal with bloody emojis drawn on his forehead, or murder on command, where his heart could be free and his loyalty better placed.
none of the things he seems to be asking are coming for him. instead, mikey takes the hand, intertwine fingers like he used to when they were younger, and places a kiss to each sinful knuckle.
Maybe Kazutora wouldn't want him anymore. Maybe he wasn't good for him. Maybe even Chifuyu would be ashamed of him, at this point. Or maybe they'd both get it. Maybe they both talked over tea and fruity desserts about how he was being held hostage by Mikey, the evil Prince in the tower.
Who the fuck knew. It didn't matter. If he let it matter for much more than a few minutes a night alone with himself, Mikey would notice. And he couldn't have that.
He'd rub the palm of Mikey's hand with a thumb in slow, soothing circles. Warm. Affectionate. The blood on his forehead had dried, and was starting to crack.]
Yeah. I love you, too. Now c'mon.
[Giving him a soft tug; more suggestion than anything.]
You coming with me? You got some blood here, and here, and here...
(fuck-- if he doesn't wash this shit off, his white hair is going to become salmon-colored, and that just won't do. the purple shampoo-- does baji know these things by now? has he become awfully used to these things?
there's a sigh before he hops off, cigarette to ashtray before he stretches his muscles. apparently, at this age, he needs to keep his flexibility more than ever.
his back hurts.)
... Can I have my toys or you're going to bitch at me?
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no subject
(the subtext is there, however. for him, but there could be a place out there for baji. one he doesn't have to deal with bloody emojis drawn on his forehead, or murder on command, where his heart could be free and his loyalty better placed.
none of the things he seems to be asking are coming for him. instead, mikey takes the hand, intertwine fingers like he used to when they were younger, and places a kiss to each sinful knuckle.
god, he sucks so much.)
I love you, Keisuke.
no subject
Knowing it's possible didn't make it true.
Maybe Kazutora wouldn't want him anymore. Maybe he wasn't good for him. Maybe even Chifuyu would be ashamed of him, at this point. Or maybe they'd both get it. Maybe they both talked over tea and fruity desserts about how he was being held hostage by Mikey, the evil Prince in the tower.
Who the fuck knew. It didn't matter. If he let it matter for much more than a few minutes a night alone with himself, Mikey would notice. And he couldn't have that.
He'd rub the palm of Mikey's hand with a thumb in slow, soothing circles. Warm. Affectionate. The blood on his forehead had dried, and was starting to crack.]
Yeah. I love you, too. Now c'mon.
[Giving him a soft tug; more suggestion than anything.]
Let's go rinse off.
no subject
(fuck-- if he doesn't wash this shit off, his white hair is going to become salmon-colored, and that just won't do. the purple shampoo-- does baji know these things by now? has he become awfully used to these things?
there's a sigh before he hops off, cigarette to ashtray before he stretches his muscles. apparently, at this age, he needs to keep his flexibility more than ever.
his back hurts.)
... Can I have my toys or you're going to bitch at me?