[Hikaru scoffs in the way he always does--both eyes closed, one hand waving dismissively--while Akira stumbles right into his trap. He has no idea why Akira is so sensitive when it comes to the things he says, but that hardly matters now that his mouth tastes like a fresh slice of hell. Yeah, he isn't feeling anything in particular, which means he needs to drink more of the sake. He'll get more accustomed to the taste of it, too.] Who are you calling a barbarian, huh? Sake exists for the express purpose of drinking it, and that's what I'm trying to do. Now, if you need your dad's permission, I guess that's just... [But he doesn't get to finish that thought when Touya is already knocking back one cup of sake, and another one after that, believe it or not. Maybe this challenge was a little too effective. In fact, maybe it's ricocheting back to him: he can feel himself getting all riled up, too. Bastard, he thinks angrily, licking his lips. Always having to show off, no matter what's going on.
The flavor is seriously awful, too piquant on his tongue, but he isn't going to let that stop him so soon. Grumbling about the lack of hospitality, he retrieves the pot of sake and pours himself a second cup, albeit with much less finesse than Touya. It's two cups to two after a hasty few swallows on his part, the near rebellion of his throat, and an even more obnoxious smirk. He looks more like a bramble patch that Touya has to decide if he wants to walk through to reach his goal, whatever that is. Not wrought iron. Not even an ounce of gold. And, since he isn't content to wait around and see if Touya's going for three, Hikaru snaps up a third cup and commits to drinking it.
He kind of loses track of what happens after that.]
...Touyaaaa.
[His voice floats up from someplace on the floor of the sitting room. He's currently--well, he isn't sure what happened to his limbs, exactly--curled up near to Touya's legs, his forehead pressed against one much-too-sharp knee on accident. Around the time they ran out of sake, he said they should get more of it and then he melted down here like a handful of gallium at room temperature. He's flushed all over, and he's definitely overheated, even after stripping off his hoodie to try to cool down. He lifts his head up a little, then lets it fall back down, continuing to address Touya's knee with all the seriousness he can muster.]
We should play each other.
[They're absolutely not in any state to do anything more than crawl into bed, but Hikaru doesn't understand that at all. He feels like an unraveled version of himself--every hard surface gone to feathers, every edge sanded down to nothing. Even his voice is more like a velvet, a soft cushion for his freely formed thoughts.] We haven't played in... [One day, two days, three...] It's been like forever, [he says, the whine of velvet crushing into itself,] and I want to play you so bad. I want a game to put in the thingie you gave me. [Turning over, slow and steady, he's now on his back and he's looking up at Touya's face from right beside him. There is no doubt in his mind that Touya Akira is the most beautiful person he has ever had the privilege of meeting. As everything else blurred away, Touya's beauty only became clearer to him.] The important thing. [He tilts his heavy, very heavy head against Touya's nearest leg, almost nuzzling him like this. No more thorns, or spines, or stickers. No more jagged parts. He remembers something that makes him laugh out loud, but then he forgets whatever it was.] Let's plaaay already. Let's play. [His smile is its own invitation. His unpolished, half-lidded eyes, also.]
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The flavor is seriously awful, too piquant on his tongue, but he isn't going to let that stop him so soon. Grumbling about the lack of hospitality, he retrieves the pot of sake and pours himself a second cup, albeit with much less finesse than Touya. It's two cups to two after a hasty few swallows on his part, the near rebellion of his throat, and an even more obnoxious smirk. He looks more like a bramble patch that Touya has to decide if he wants to walk through to reach his goal, whatever that is. Not wrought iron. Not even an ounce of gold. And, since he isn't content to wait around and see if Touya's going for three, Hikaru snaps up a third cup and commits to drinking it.
He kind of loses track of what happens after that.]
...Touyaaaa.
[His voice floats up from someplace on the floor of the sitting room. He's currently--well, he isn't sure what happened to his limbs, exactly--curled up near to Touya's legs, his forehead pressed against one much-too-sharp knee on accident. Around the time they ran out of sake, he said they should get more of it and then he melted down here like a handful of gallium at room temperature. He's flushed all over, and he's definitely overheated, even after stripping off his hoodie to try to cool down. He lifts his head up a little, then lets it fall back down, continuing to address Touya's knee with all the seriousness he can muster.]
We should play each other.
[They're absolutely not in any state to do anything more than crawl into bed, but Hikaru doesn't understand that at all. He feels like an unraveled version of himself--every hard surface gone to feathers, every edge sanded down to nothing. Even his voice is more like a velvet, a soft cushion for his freely formed thoughts.] We haven't played in... [One day, two days, three...] It's been like forever, [he says, the whine of velvet crushing into itself,] and I want to play you so bad. I want a game to put in the thingie you gave me. [Turning over, slow and steady, he's now on his back and he's looking up at Touya's face from right beside him. There is no doubt in his mind that Touya Akira is the most beautiful person he has ever had the privilege of meeting. As everything else blurred away, Touya's beauty only became clearer to him.] The important thing. [He tilts his heavy, very heavy head against Touya's nearest leg, almost nuzzling him like this. No more thorns, or spines, or stickers. No more jagged parts. He remembers something that makes him laugh out loud, but then he forgets whatever it was.] Let's plaaay already. Let's play. [His smile is its own invitation. His unpolished, half-lidded eyes, also.]