[ he had only been gone for a few minutes. five, at the most, though two is far more likely, given how little he wished to have left the other's side in the first place. but it had felt important, at least at the time, that he prove to sylus somehow that he could — provide?? something — and somehow that translated into being able to pay for some snacks. he is all but a single rank beneath the man, but somehow it was enough to instill in oushi a deep desire to make sure sylus didn't think that made him the kind of partner that couldn't pull his weight around or... something.
honestly, he isn't entirely sure where a lot of this is coming from. perhaps not necessarily the feelings themselves, for none of them were particularly new or foreign to oushi, but moreso the need to act upon them. all he knows is — ever since some game booth attendant had shoved a token into his hand, and he met sylus' eyes across the way, he had felt the intense need to prove himself.
somehow, that translates to purchasing the pair of them snacks in the form of some katsubo senbei. something light and relatively inoffensive, just in case sylus found himself particularly picky about japanese food. but as he crosses the short distance back to where he had left sylus, a cracker in each hand, he finds himself pausing at the sight of the other man bowing his head low to speak to someone... someone oushi can't recognize, with their back to him, and with his eyes rooted on the large hand that sylus had placed on the arm of the other. he can't hear what they say to each other, but the other person takes their leave soon enough, finally spurring oushi back into movement. a few swift strides and he's back in sylus' space, brow furrowed low and lips pulled into a thin frown. the plastic wrapping of the crackers crinkle loudly as he searches sylus' face for — anything. a blush, a lipstick print, any sign at all that might illuminate him on what had just transpired. ]
( in truth, sylus had no intentions of participating in any of this nonsense. since returning from the "cruise," he hasn't really been in the mood to do much of anything. but, nothing ever seems to go his way and he winds up at this stupid carnival. while on the one hand he hates that he's here, on the other he's... almost glad for it so he can see who remains trapped here still. while wandering ( and searching endless faces ), he winds up being roped into some game. he doesn't really know what it is or what it's for, just that he walks away with some token that immediately gets forgotten in his pocket. not long after that, almost as if some sort of fate was pulling the strings, he looks up and meets eyes with oushi. that there's some measure of relief seeing that grumpy face is something he'll only think about later when he's alone.
while oushi is off gtting them something to eat, someone bumps into him and spills not only their drink but their food on him and themselves as well. he's in a strange mood, so he doesn't react particularly volatile or anything and instead just brushes it off as if it's not a big deal. which, ultimately, it isn't. there's a little bit of the drink on his shoe and crumbs on his shirt, the majority of the mess on the other person. he tells them it's not a big deal and urges them to go clean themselves up with a gentle touch to their arm.
by the time oushi returns, only the few drops of the drink remain on the leather of his shoe and he means to wipe it off, but pauses mid-motion at the question. it's, very clearly, not something he expects oushi to even ask. his brows lift toward his hairline, the confusion there in the depths of his eyes. but, that eases into amusement and his lips twitch into a slight smirk. )
[ oushi sees the exact moment the confusion in sylus' expression shifts to one of amusement, and something deep inside his chest seems to rally against it. not so much an actual protest, but a knee-jerk sort of petulance that feels defiance is the only just cause of action here. if only because that particular curve of those lips is an utterly devastating thing to behold.
but — what exactly can he say? it doesn't feel like sylus is lying, no matter how intensely oushi searches those crimson eyes. still, oushi can't deny the hot surge of rage when he saw the other man's hand on that person's arm, or the way that intense gaze lingered for what felt like just a moment too long. ]
Don't talk to anybody else.
[ the words were meant to be something strong, intimidating, but he can't help but hear them as petulant. he's definitely pouting, even as he shoves one of those crackers into sylus' hand. ]
( on any other day, sylus would find this behavior alarming coming from oushi. today, however, he finds it soothing, somehow. that should raise some alarm bells, yet, there's something about this that feels... right? normal, even. certainly welcome. the curve of his lips sharpens, dare it say widens into an almost full smile. people are so much more attractive when they're honest with their feelings. that oushi is being so petulant is new and sylus has to admit that he likes it.
he nearly drops the cracker that's shoved into his hand but doesn't at the last second. he shifts to hold it in the other and lifts the free one to catch oushi's chin gently between his thumb and forefinger. leaning slightly closer so they're more eye to eye, one brow arches in question. )
Or what?
( he releases his hold, but drags the tip of his index finger down oushi's throat and lightly taps at the hollow before letting his hand fall away. he doesn't take his eyes off of oushi as he takes a bite of the cracker, chews, and swallows. )
[ what will he do? realistically speaking, oushi is aware there is very little he can do that would sway the other man. (or so he is convinced, anyway.) sylus is, after all, better at him in every way — bigger, stronger, more confident and self-assured — and so for what possible reason would a man like sylus ever have to listen to someone like oushi?
and yet. and yet. oushi feels inside himself an odd sense of confidence that can only come from the comfort of knowing he not only deserves the other's undivided attention, but that he has every possible right to it.
when that finger draws down the length of his throat, sylus will be able to feel his adam's apple bob in reaction. but even as he gulps, oushi holds fast to that beautiful, piercing gaze. boldly, he lifts a hand, thumbing at the corner of sylus' mouth to brush off an errant crumb from that cracker. while the gesture itself is a small thing, he carries it off with the air of something far bigger, grander. he wants people to notice, to see. ]
( realistically speaking, oushi doesn't know what he's talking about. there's quite a lot he can do to sway sylus, if only he'd commit and actually do it. he has no idea what sort of power he could hold, if only he'd accept certain things. maybe this whole experience at this festival, carnival, whatever the hell you want to call it, will offer some insight. but, that's for the future.
for the present, things can be taken as they are. or something like it.
because, right now, even sylus doesn't fully know what things are. he's just existing in the moment and going with the flow of whatever is happening that feels right. which should be alarming, but again, it isn't. all he does know is that when oushi makes contact with him it somehow both settles something in his gut and strokes the embers of desire at the same time. as if on instinct his head turns toward the touch, leaning into it to get more. before oushi can even think of moving away, sylus' hand covers his to keep it there, lips brushing a little kiss before pinching the soft fleshy part of oushi's palm between his teeth. )
[ something flares in the pit of oushi's chest when sylus keeps his hand there. something defiant and contrary, but weak and submissive at the same time. part of him wants to pull away, and another part wants to push his hand even closer, curious to see just how much sylus would take if he were given that inch. both parts are loud and annoying, and oushi doesn't know which way he's supposed to lean.
seems they are now both creatures of instinct, because against his better judgment he finds himself moving forward, up. and before either of them can even comprehend what's happening, his teeth bare down along the sharp edge of sylus' jaw — just hard enough to leave that fair skin a little red, a little more his.
his face is burning by the time he pulls away, and yet it pales in comparison to the heat behind his glaring eyes. as if he could somehow pin sylus down from the weight of his stare alone. ]
well, alright then. isn't that just something so interesting? sylus didn't expect oushi to be so bold in public like this. but, he's surprising him more and more today. which isn't any kind of complaint, by the way. on the contrary.
his skin pulses where oushi bit him and for a moment, sylus is rendered immobile because he isn't quite sure how to react. normally, they have some sort of tit-for-tat, but there's something far more electric charging in the space between them and sylus is feeling a bit lost with indecision. one side of his mind is telling him what he wants, the other side is telling him to temper those wants and watch himself. they're still out in the open and there are things about oushi that he doesn't want to share with anyone.
and isn't that just ridiculous? feeling possessive over oushi when he has no right or reason to. but, that isn't going to stop him.
so, before he can think too deeply on it, he doesn't let oushi get too far away; follows him by leaning in and wrapping an arm around him so they can be pressed close and presses their foreheads together. there's just a gentle bump of noses, a whisper of lips brushing against one another. )
[ the past few hours have been something of a blur, though if asked oushi wouldn't be able to recall anything that had transpired prior to it. it's good that nobody's actually asked him, though, because he would have said something embarrassing like, does it matter? life didn't really start until i saw him. "him" being none other than gojou satoru, a man he had only met once prior to all this, and yet somehow seeing him across the food stalls during today's festival had felt like the true first time, as if he were seeing the young man in a light he hadn't been privy to before.
it's — a deeply suspicious thing, frankly, and oushi had thought as much for all of three seconds before something far more primal kicked into gear in his brain, and suddenly it became extremely important that he never let the other man out of his sight again. crowding him, grabbing at his wrist, pulling him close, dragging him along. maybe oushi might have felt bad for his behavior, if gojou didn't seem to enjoy every second of it, or at the very least enable the worst of it.
that's how they end up spending the better half of the afternoon together. sharing snacks, drinking from the same bottle, even slaving meticulously over the goldfish catching game all to ensure they had walked away with a "matching pair" (oushi's was mostly white with orange spots, while gojou's orange with a smattering of white). and now, here, in the ferris wheel, the hotel's simulated sun sinking deep into the horizon to cast a pinkish haze over their entire surroundings. nestled against the corner of the seat beside oushi, the two goldfish swim merrily in their mutual plastic bags.
when the announcement rings out, and their predicament is made clear, oushi finds himself suddenly conflicted. but — perhaps not for the reason one might have expected from him... ]
But, [ he says, suddenly quite shy despite all his actions up until this moment, ] the goldfish will see...
( it feels the closest to some kind of fever dream. this entire resort has felt that way, at times, as though nothing about it could truly be real, as though these are all just the thoughts and memories of a mad man: like he's still laying somewhere in a pool of his own blood, choking past a torn windpipe, trying desperately to be anywhere else but there. when oushi touches him, it feels warm, and soft, distant enough that he has to remember whether or not he's taken down infinity to begin with--but then why would he not lay himself bare, and open, for the guy that makes him feel so twisted up inside? there's beauty to be found in the simple life of a touchy little human, like he's finally putting the pieces together of why it's so important to protect them; and this one, in particular, is now his to protect. eternally, his thoughts say, or the token says, but whatever, he gets it--he's not letting up.
easy enough to give into temptation when that's all he's ever done--jumped right into challenge after challenge, charged headlong into everything and anything. pragmatic, when he ensures that oushi's arm is always just within reach, his hand clamped palm to palm; possessive, when he offers a blank, blue-eyed stare to anyone who dares to think they can get close. for awhile, it's like nothing else exists outside of them and this silly carnival--like it's the old days, like it's happiness, like there's nothing that can hurt, here.
the warm sunlight of the sunset, cast out over the interior of the ferris wheel car, makes him want to duck his chin down against oushi's shoulder and watch it--he's trying, anyway, long and lanky frame slumped down and contorted so that he can sink his cheek against the side of oushi's neck, peering out past his profile at the heat of it. disappointing, to have the day done, but night will come soon after: and besides, now they have a predicament to deal with.
his first response is--to snort a laugh, forcing himself to sit up a little, nudging his nose in against oushi's cheek in a tease. )
So take your shirt off and put it over them.
( idly, teasingly, and without his sunglasses, his eyes are that strange, sparkling blue they always are, heighted by both the dying sunlight and the voracity of his interest--focused entirely on oushi, perhaps a terrifying burden. )
I've waited all day and-- ( he slides himself up to sit, properly, next to him, though one hand is reaching for oushi's chin, holding it carefully between long fingers to twist him to face him properly--his lips curve into a grin. ) --I'm not gonna keep waiting.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
—
sylus.
honestly, he isn't entirely sure where a lot of this is coming from. perhaps not necessarily the feelings themselves, for none of them were particularly new or foreign to oushi, but moreso the need to act upon them. all he knows is — ever since some game booth attendant had shoved a token into his hand, and he met sylus' eyes across the way, he had felt the intense need to prove himself.
somehow, that translates to purchasing the pair of them snacks in the form of some katsubo senbei. something light and relatively inoffensive, just in case sylus found himself particularly picky about japanese food. but as he crosses the short distance back to where he had left sylus, a cracker in each hand, he finds himself pausing at the sight of the other man bowing his head low to speak to someone... someone oushi can't recognize, with their back to him, and with his eyes rooted on the large hand that sylus had placed on the arm of the other. he can't hear what they say to each other, but the other person takes their leave soon enough, finally spurring oushi back into movement. a few swift strides and he's back in sylus' space, brow furrowed low and lips pulled into a thin frown. the plastic wrapping of the crackers crinkle loudly as he searches sylus' face for — anything. a blush, a lipstick print, any sign at all that might illuminate him on what had just transpired. ]
Who were you talking to?
no subject
while oushi is off gtting them something to eat, someone bumps into him and spills not only their drink but their food on him and themselves as well. he's in a strange mood, so he doesn't react particularly volatile or anything and instead just brushes it off as if it's not a big deal. which, ultimately, it isn't. there's a little bit of the drink on his shoe and crumbs on his shirt, the majority of the mess on the other person. he tells them it's not a big deal and urges them to go clean themselves up with a gentle touch to their arm.
by the time oushi returns, only the few drops of the drink remain on the leather of his shoe and he means to wipe it off, but pauses mid-motion at the question. it's, very clearly, not something he expects oushi to even ask. his brows lift toward his hairline, the confusion there in the depths of his eyes. but, that eases into amusement and his lips twitch into a slight smirk. )
No one that matters.
( so what r u worried about? )
no subject
but — what exactly can he say? it doesn't feel like sylus is lying, no matter how intensely oushi searches those crimson eyes. still, oushi can't deny the hot surge of rage when he saw the other man's hand on that person's arm, or the way that intense gaze lingered for what felt like just a moment too long. ]
Don't talk to anybody else.
[ the words were meant to be something strong, intimidating, but he can't help but hear them as petulant. he's definitely pouting, even as he shoves one of those crackers into sylus' hand. ]
Don't touch them either.
no subject
he nearly drops the cracker that's shoved into his hand but doesn't at the last second. he shifts to hold it in the other and lifts the free one to catch oushi's chin gently between his thumb and forefinger. leaning slightly closer so they're more eye to eye, one brow arches in question. )
Or what?
( he releases his hold, but drags the tip of his index finger down oushi's throat and lightly taps at the hollow before letting his hand fall away. he doesn't take his eyes off of oushi as he takes a bite of the cracker, chews, and swallows. )
What will you do?
no subject
and yet. and yet. oushi feels inside himself an odd sense of confidence that can only come from the comfort of knowing he not only deserves the other's undivided attention, but that he has every possible right to it.
when that finger draws down the length of his throat, sylus will be able to feel his adam's apple bob in reaction. but even as he gulps, oushi holds fast to that beautiful, piercing gaze. boldly, he lifts a hand, thumbing at the corner of sylus' mouth to brush off an errant crumb from that cracker. while the gesture itself is a small thing, he carries it off with the air of something far bigger, grander. he wants people to notice, to see. ]
I'll make sure everybody knows who you belong to.
no subject
for the present, things can be taken as they are. or something like it.
because, right now, even sylus doesn't fully know what things are. he's just existing in the moment and going with the flow of whatever is happening that feels right. which should be alarming, but again, it isn't. all he does know is that when oushi makes contact with him it somehow both settles something in his gut and strokes the embers of desire at the same time. as if on instinct his head turns toward the touch, leaning into it to get more. before oushi can even think of moving away, sylus' hand covers his to keep it there, lips brushing a little kiss before pinching the soft fleshy part of oushi's palm between his teeth. )
Who is it I belong to, exactly?
no subject
seems they are now both creatures of instinct, because against his better judgment he finds himself moving forward, up. and before either of them can even comprehend what's happening, his teeth bare down along the sharp edge of sylus' jaw — just hard enough to leave that fair skin a little red, a little more his.
his face is burning by the time he pulls away, and yet it pales in comparison to the heat behind his glaring eyes. as if he could somehow pin sylus down from the weight of his stare alone. ]
Me. Did you already forget?
no subject
well, alright then. isn't that just something so interesting? sylus didn't expect oushi to be so bold in public like this. but, he's surprising him more and more today. which isn't any kind of complaint, by the way. on the contrary.
his skin pulses where oushi bit him and for a moment, sylus is rendered immobile because he isn't quite sure how to react. normally, they have some sort of tit-for-tat, but there's something far more electric charging in the space between them and sylus is feeling a bit lost with indecision. one side of his mind is telling him what he wants, the other side is telling him to temper those wants and watch himself. they're still out in the open and there are things about oushi that he doesn't want to share with anyone.
and isn't that just ridiculous? feeling possessive over oushi when he has no right or reason to. but, that isn't going to stop him.
so, before he can think too deeply on it, he doesn't let oushi get too far away; follows him by leaning in and wrapping an arm around him so they can be pressed close and presses their foreheads together. there's just a gentle bump of noses, a whisper of lips brushing against one another. )
Maybe I need a reminder.
gojou.
it's — a deeply suspicious thing, frankly, and oushi had thought as much for all of three seconds before something far more primal kicked into gear in his brain, and suddenly it became extremely important that he never let the other man out of his sight again. crowding him, grabbing at his wrist, pulling him close, dragging him along. maybe oushi might have felt bad for his behavior, if gojou didn't seem to enjoy every second of it, or at the very least enable the worst of it.
that's how they end up spending the better half of the afternoon together. sharing snacks, drinking from the same bottle, even slaving meticulously over the goldfish catching game all to ensure they had walked away with a "matching pair" (oushi's was mostly white with orange spots, while gojou's orange with a smattering of white). and now, here, in the ferris wheel, the hotel's simulated sun sinking deep into the horizon to cast a pinkish haze over their entire surroundings. nestled against the corner of the seat beside oushi, the two goldfish swim merrily in their mutual plastic bags.
when the announcement rings out, and their predicament is made clear, oushi finds himself suddenly conflicted. but — perhaps not for the reason one might have expected from him... ]
But, [ he says, suddenly quite shy despite all his actions up until this moment, ] the goldfish will see...
no subject
easy enough to give into temptation when that's all he's ever done--jumped right into challenge after challenge, charged headlong into everything and anything. pragmatic, when he ensures that oushi's arm is always just within reach, his hand clamped palm to palm; possessive, when he offers a blank, blue-eyed stare to anyone who dares to think they can get close. for awhile, it's like nothing else exists outside of them and this silly carnival--like it's the old days, like it's happiness, like there's nothing that can hurt, here.
the warm sunlight of the sunset, cast out over the interior of the ferris wheel car, makes him want to duck his chin down against oushi's shoulder and watch it--he's trying, anyway, long and lanky frame slumped down and contorted so that he can sink his cheek against the side of oushi's neck, peering out past his profile at the heat of it. disappointing, to have the day done, but night will come soon after: and besides, now they have a predicament to deal with.
his first response is--to snort a laugh, forcing himself to sit up a little, nudging his nose in against oushi's cheek in a tease. )
So take your shirt off and put it over them.
( idly, teasingly, and without his sunglasses, his eyes are that strange, sparkling blue they always are, heighted by both the dying sunlight and the voracity of his interest--focused entirely on oushi, perhaps a terrifying burden. )
I've waited all day and-- ( he slides himself up to sit, properly, next to him, though one hand is reaching for oushi's chin, holding it carefully between long fingers to twist him to face him properly--his lips curve into a grin. ) --I'm not gonna keep waiting.