"You look beautiful," he murmurs, and Takahiro smiles, glancing over his shoulder. "That colour suits you."
"Does it, now?" Takahiro asks.
"I think that all colours suit you." A hand comes to rest on Takahiro's back, warm and familiar. "This one especially."
"Issei," Takahiro laughs, using a name that has otherwise been lost into the ages, replaced by epithets among the mortals, because of all the pieces of information that they seek, this is never among their number. "How would you know?"
"I know," Issei replies, and he's smiling as he trails his hands down Takahiro's arms and takes his hands, their fingers linking together. He's using his soothsaying voice, and it's one that Takahiro loves listening to. "I know that it matches the colour of my eyes."
"You don't even know what that looks like," Takahiro laughs, but he presses a kiss to Issei's lips all the same. "I'm glad you like it, though."
"I like whatever you wear," Issei replies easily. "I like it better when you don't wear anything at all."
"Tch. Live as a hermit, and you lose all sense of decency."
"I don't think hermits live together," Issei laughs, his breath warm against Takahiro's lips.
"Whatever it is we're doing, then," Takahiro amends. "You've lost all your manners."
"I never had any." Issei wraps his arms around Takahiro's waist. "Besides, you're one to talk, oh corrupting influence."
Takahiro makes a soft offended sound against Issei's lips. "Please. Just because the kingdoms of old refused to believe that their precious soothsayer could do any wrong. They had to blame someone."
"To be fair," Issei hums, "they were right. I'd rather spend my days in bed with you than in the courts of kings, seeing into their future. That sort of thing always ends the same way. At least you're more interesting."
"Ah, you certainly have a way with words, oh great soothsayer." Takahiro presses a kiss to his shoulder with a grin. "It's too late anyway. I've firmly been written as the one at fault, in this story. I can hear it being passed along on the wind, you know. There are still people who search for you. No matter how hard you try to hide."
"I suppose it's not quite hiding unless there's someone seeking," Issei sighs. "What can you do? If someone is desperate enough for answers that they come looking… then at least they deserve something genuine. Until I'm found, though, it looks like I'm all yours."
Takahiro smiles, sharp and possessive. "My dear soothsayer, you always are."
FILL: Team Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru, G
no tags
word count: 425
remix of
"You look beautiful," he murmurs, and Takahiro smiles, glancing over his shoulder. "That colour suits you."
"Does it, now?" Takahiro asks.
"I think that all colours suit you." A hand comes to rest on Takahiro's back, warm and familiar. "This one especially."
"Issei," Takahiro laughs, using a name that has otherwise been lost into the ages, replaced by epithets among the mortals, because of all the pieces of information that they seek, this is never among their number. "How would you know?"
"I know," Issei replies, and he's smiling as he trails his hands down Takahiro's arms and takes his hands, their fingers linking together. He's using his soothsaying voice, and it's one that Takahiro loves listening to. "I know that it matches the colour of my eyes."
"You don't even know what that looks like," Takahiro laughs, but he presses a kiss to Issei's lips all the same. "I'm glad you like it, though."
"I like whatever you wear," Issei replies easily. "I like it better when you don't wear anything at all."
"Tch. Live as a hermit, and you lose all sense of decency."
"I don't think hermits live together," Issei laughs, his breath warm against Takahiro's lips.
"Whatever it is we're doing, then," Takahiro amends. "You've lost all your manners."
"I never had any." Issei wraps his arms around Takahiro's waist. "Besides, you're one to talk, oh corrupting influence."
Takahiro makes a soft offended sound against Issei's lips. "Please. Just because the kingdoms of old refused to believe that their precious soothsayer could do any wrong. They had to blame someone."
"To be fair," Issei hums, "they were right. I'd rather spend my days in bed with you than in the courts of kings, seeing into their future. That sort of thing always ends the same way. At least you're more interesting."
"Ah, you certainly have a way with words, oh great soothsayer." Takahiro presses a kiss to his shoulder with a grin. "It's too late anyway. I've firmly been written as the one at fault, in this story. I can hear it being passed along on the wind, you know. There are still people who search for you. No matter how hard you try to hide."
"I suppose it's not quite hiding unless there's someone seeking," Issei sighs. "What can you do? If someone is desperate enough for answers that they come looking… then at least they deserve something genuine. Until I'm found, though, it looks like I'm all yours."
Takahiro smiles, sharp and possessive. "My dear soothsayer, you always are."