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[ It's cute that Solomon thinks JJ has a tender heart. ]
would you care if it had?
and i'll remember :)
would you care if it had?
and i'll remember :)
[ Solomon's gaze looks so devoid of life. ]
you can make it up to me then :)
you can make it up to me then :)
do you think you could come up with something i like all by yourself?
[ then why did you bring it up you useless bitch ]
i thought as much!! ⛸
i thought as much!! ⛸
in the hues of autumn air
yours drifts a ghostly sick white
frozen like the morning mist
numb hands intertwine
flaxen waves drift, not fragile
trodden steps reaching nowhere
the path we weave together
will it reach the end?
lingering at dawn, at dusk
what can be seen in red skies?
i'd rather look to your eyes
with nothing behind
yours drifts a ghostly sick white
frozen like the morning mist
numb hands intertwine
flaxen waves drift, not fragile
trodden steps reaching nowhere
the path we weave together
will it reach the end?
lingering at dawn, at dusk
what can be seen in red skies?
i'd rather look to your eyes
with nothing behind
[Who even texts Solomon? Nobody. So when his cell phone chirps at him, he's stirring, glancing about the room for the source of whatever dinged at him; it's a colorful signal that eventually steals his attention, flashing intermittently to signify a received, unchecked message.
It's within arms reach, so he'll snatch the device up, squint unpleasantly at the screen...]
It's within arms reach, so he'll snatch the device up, squint unpleasantly at the screen...]
[The message is read about four times before he can comprehend what's going on, as if the sender shouldn't have made the meaning a glaring thing. It's too early -- late? To wrestle with the dokis.
He will eventually rise up, make a quiet trek into the living room, gross moccasin slippers helping him in making a silent entry. He'll linger by the doorway, arms crossed. He's donning his most normal ensemble yet.]
So you made it...
[Playing it cool; he'll belatedly tuck his phone into a pocket, as if to erase his purpose here.]
He will eventually rise up, make a quiet trek into the living room, gross moccasin slippers helping him in making a silent entry. He'll linger by the doorway, arms crossed. He's donning his most normal ensemble yet.]
So you made it...
[Playing it cool; he'll belatedly tuck his phone into a pocket, as if to erase his purpose here.]
[He made it, and he even remembered to close the door this time. Crisp night air sticks to his clothing more poignantly than the scent of tobacco or liquor, though both have their place. Still lingering on his tongue, just as the embers of his pipe still glow a dull orange.
It's been discarded on the coffee table, spilling ash over the surface - for Solomon to clean in the morning, and invisible in the darkness of the room.
Takasugi's state of consciousness too, is difficult to surmise. He's laying with an arm draped over his face, eye obscured and bandage ruffled. Legs spread languidly, he's showing off way too much thigh in pursuit of a comfortable position.
One he's regretfully roused from, a groan his only utterance as he sits up slowly. His hair's a mess, his yukata is off one shoulder. He's a damn mess, but he offers Solomon the same coy smile he always does.
It's surprising they haven't started sharing the same bed more regularly. Maybe this was all a ploy to crawl his way into somewhere more suitable to sleep (it wasn't - it was unfortunately genuine).
Takasugi rises, leaving pipe and rustled cushions in his wake. Approaching the stairs, he lingers at Solomon's side. His head lulls, resting on the man's shoulder. He's tired, damn it. So he leaves it to the man to move and guide him to the second floor, and into the warmth of his sheets.]
It's been discarded on the coffee table, spilling ash over the surface - for Solomon to clean in the morning, and invisible in the darkness of the room.
Takasugi's state of consciousness too, is difficult to surmise. He's laying with an arm draped over his face, eye obscured and bandage ruffled. Legs spread languidly, he's showing off way too much thigh in pursuit of a comfortable position.
One he's regretfully roused from, a groan his only utterance as he sits up slowly. His hair's a mess, his yukata is off one shoulder. He's a damn mess, but he offers Solomon the same coy smile he always does.
It's surprising they haven't started sharing the same bed more regularly. Maybe this was all a ploy to crawl his way into somewhere more suitable to sleep (it wasn't - it was unfortunately genuine).
Takasugi rises, leaving pipe and rustled cushions in his wake. Approaching the stairs, he lingers at Solomon's side. His head lulls, resting on the man's shoulder. He's tired, damn it. So he leaves it to the man to move and guide him to the second floor, and into the warmth of his sheets.]
[Ah..he's getting better about being a guest. A free-loader. There's something fond in his expression, even as Takasugi looks (looks, does not smell) like he's spent he entire night getting blasted. A finger thoughtfully tends to a feigned itch at his chin.
He'd ask what was wrong/what happened/etc if this were anyone but Takasugi. Briefly, he tilts his head to rest it atop the other man's -- a gesture that substitutes the place of a hug.
Weirdos.
He has so many questions, but he'll spare him until they've reached their destination. Not to imply that he's safe from Solomon's obnoxious whims. He'll proceed to do this weird turn around, slight back up, slight bend and lift, grabbing Takasugi by the underside of his thighs and urging him onto his back.
A piggyback ride.]
He'd ask what was wrong/what happened/etc if this were anyone but Takasugi. Briefly, he tilts his head to rest it atop the other man's -- a gesture that substitutes the place of a hug.
Weirdos.
He has so many questions, but he'll spare him until they've reached their destination. Not to imply that he's safe from Solomon's obnoxious whims. He'll proceed to do this weird turn around, slight back up, slight bend and lift, grabbing Takasugi by the underside of his thighs and urging him onto his back.
A piggyback ride.]
[Smooth locks of hair are as comforting as any pillow, the scent of the man indiscernible from his well-kept abode. Warmth melts from the crown of Takasugi's head, falling like a blanket over his body.
Comfort, too pure in form for him to recognize.
He works his jaw against it, tensing and releasing before biting cheek. To rouse himself from a saccharine dream that isn't his own, so distant it leaves him unbalanced.
Literally so, scooped up easily by Solomon's whim. A gesture he doesn't notice until his eye drifts open that he's not pressed into a bed, warmth nestled into warmth unmoving until dawn light interrupts their rest.
He doesn't protest, he doesn't shift at all, but for his head lulling into the crook of Solomon's neck.
Once they reach the bed, however, he's loathe to disconnect. One arm will remain hooked around the other's shoulders, obstinate despite any discomfort the odd position causes.]
Comfort, too pure in form for him to recognize.
He works his jaw against it, tensing and releasing before biting cheek. To rouse himself from a saccharine dream that isn't his own, so distant it leaves him unbalanced.
Literally so, scooped up easily by Solomon's whim. A gesture he doesn't notice until his eye drifts open that he's not pressed into a bed, warmth nestled into warmth unmoving until dawn light interrupts their rest.
He doesn't protest, he doesn't shift at all, but for his head lulling into the crook of Solomon's neck.
Once they reach the bed, however, he's loathe to disconnect. One arm will remain hooked around the other's shoulders, obstinate despite any discomfort the odd position causes.]
I didn't think you were the jealous type.
[it's endearing]
[it's endearing]
Am I wrong?
I heard you ruined breakfast the other day.
I heard you ruined breakfast the other day.
[Were it not his idea to carry Takasugi upstairs, he may have just dropped him on principle. He does not, however. On top of it being his idea, he's being endearing without doing very much at all.
So, when they do arrive, he'll sit at the edge of his bed, allow Takasugi to fall more gracefully onto the mattress, should he allow himself to be pried off. If not, he's...he's fine with lowering onto his side and being the small spoon for this. Whatever the case may be, he'll end up curled in such a position.]
Is this comfortable for you?
[Reaching back to cup at, ruffle his hair affectionately. He's been quiet. It makes sense to try and rouse him if he somehow managed to pass out between the stairs and now, just to get hot updates on his comfort lvl.
It's been a while since he's spooned someone. Or been spooned. Whatever.]
So, when they do arrive, he'll sit at the edge of his bed, allow Takasugi to fall more gracefully onto the mattress, should he allow himself to be pried off. If not, he's...he's fine with lowering onto his side and being the small spoon for this. Whatever the case may be, he'll end up curled in such a position.]
Is this comfortable for you?
[Reaching back to cup at, ruffle his hair affectionately. He's been quiet. It makes sense to try and rouse him if he somehow managed to pass out between the stairs and now, just to get hot updates on his comfort lvl.
It's been a while since he's spooned someone. Or been spooned. Whatever.]
Why would I?
I'm just looking for clarification.
Whose betrayal slid under your skin the most?
[Both is the answer he's anticipating (hoping for)]
I'm just looking for clarification.
Whose betrayal slid under your skin the most?
[Both is the answer he's anticipating (hoping for)]
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