[ It follows, given how charming Keita finds Oushi in all respects, that he would also find him charming when he's a little bit drunk. Something about the way Oushi focuses on him, perhaps, although Keita is the only thing of which he's aware, or perhaps the way that as they walk Oushi's elbow keeps brushing Keita's when he can't quite maintain a straight line. It's endearing, and it makes Keita smile when they pause at the doorway of his suite for him to key it open. ]
Is it? [ Keita looks up at Oushi, amused. Their proximity renews his awareness of how much taller Oushi is. ] Thank you. It's lemon soap.
[ The door swings open, and Keita puts a hand gently on Oushi's lower back to guide him into the room. Following his unexpected upgrade from a seven to a ten, Keita had been granted a more spacious living situation, although it's still relatively modest—one bedroom, one spare room (currently being used as a workshop), and a combined living-dining-kitchen situation into which the front door opens. It's decorated in a curious combination of Japanese and Victorian styles, some mix of the architecture of Yoruji with the stylings of the Filigree Street house.
Keita removes his shoes in the foyer, then waits for Oushi to do the same before leading the way into the living room. ]
Would you like some tea? [ he asks. ] I could show you the workshop while we wait for it to boil.
[ oushi ducks his head respectfully, toeing off his shoes and feeling a unique sort of displacement at the sight of them placed beside keita's neater, fancier shoes. bespoke, his mind supplies helpfully, though he isn't at all versed enough in that world to know if that is actually the case.
somehow, he doesn't fall flat on his face, but he does slide along a little against the wall when he leans his full weight against it.
he realizes he misses the hand at his back when keita draws it away, his head picking up like the curious, perked ears of a dog whose owner just closed the door of a kennel that it could have sworn didn't exist a second ago. dutifully, longingly, he follows close behind the other man, eyes drifting down to that hand as his mind contorts itself in various pretzel shapes just to figure out how to get that hand back on him. ]
Tea sounds nice, [ he says, if a little distractedly. ] What are you working on currently?
[ The good news for Oushi is that Keita makes note of the way he leans a little heavily against the wall as he takes his shoes off—it makes him smile fondly, although he's also making a little note to maybe not encourage Oushi to drink quite so much the next time they go out.
It also means that when they've made their way a little more fully into the living room, Keita does in fact put his hand on Oushi's back again to guide him toward the kitchen space, which is tucked away somewhat unobtrusively from the main sitting area. This time, it isn't even clairvoyance that guides his actions—he just likes touching Oushi. ]
I've been a bit torn on whether I ought to work on something practical or something whimsical, [ he says. ] So I suppose you could say I'm not working on anything, or rather, I'm planning what to work on next. If you have any ideas I'll gladly hear them.
[ In the kitchen, Keita fills the kettle with water and sets it to boil, then leans against the counter next to Oushi, his attention focused on the other man. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Is it? [ Keita looks up at Oushi, amused. Their proximity renews his awareness of how much taller Oushi is. ] Thank you. It's lemon soap.
[ The door swings open, and Keita puts a hand gently on Oushi's lower back to guide him into the room. Following his unexpected upgrade from a seven to a ten, Keita had been granted a more spacious living situation, although it's still relatively modest—one bedroom, one spare room (currently being used as a workshop), and a combined living-dining-kitchen situation into which the front door opens. It's decorated in a curious combination of Japanese and Victorian styles, some mix of the architecture of Yoruji with the stylings of the Filigree Street house.
Keita removes his shoes in the foyer, then waits for Oushi to do the same before leading the way into the living room. ]
Would you like some tea? [ he asks. ] I could show you the workshop while we wait for it to boil.
no subject
somehow, he doesn't fall flat on his face, but he does slide along a little against the wall when he leans his full weight against it.
he realizes he misses the hand at his back when keita draws it away, his head picking up like the curious, perked ears of a dog whose owner just closed the door of a kennel that it could have sworn didn't exist a second ago. dutifully, longingly, he follows close behind the other man, eyes drifting down to that hand as his mind contorts itself in various pretzel shapes just to figure out how to get that hand back on him. ]
Tea sounds nice, [ he says, if a little distractedly. ] What are you working on currently?
no subject
It also means that when they've made their way a little more fully into the living room, Keita does in fact put his hand on Oushi's back again to guide him toward the kitchen space, which is tucked away somewhat unobtrusively from the main sitting area. This time, it isn't even clairvoyance that guides his actions—he just likes touching Oushi. ]
I've been a bit torn on whether I ought to work on something practical or something whimsical, [ he says. ] So I suppose you could say I'm not working on anything, or rather, I'm planning what to work on next. If you have any ideas I'll gladly hear them.
[ In the kitchen, Keita fills the kettle with water and sets it to boil, then leans against the counter next to Oushi, his attention focused on the other man. ]