[It's difficult for Akira to watch, teeth sunk sharp into his bottom lip, while Shindou scrambles to look for footholds, just neglecting the ones that are so close to him. You idiot, Akira thinks, almost rapt for it, and his eyes narrow into something akin to disbelief. You idiot, you idiot, I am standing right here; I am looking right at you. And he is. His body has gone still, poised as if suspended in seawater, but his eyes are moving all across each of Shindou's features. His clumsy, lying mouth, and his uncertain eyes. Serious, and seriously stuck on the shape of that mouth, Akira twists his own lips while he appraises all that he's just heard. His keen taste sees emeralds shot through with inclusions, susceptible to chips or cracks if mishandled. And he would still have velvet at the ready, for those stones, if the velvet is what Shindou sought. He would wear those emeralds at his throat no matter their cloud. You idiot, he thinks again, what are you doing. He says,] She sounds like a fine young lady, doesn't she. How lucky, for sure. [Is this performative indulgence, or performative distaste toward this speculative girl, or are both or either of those things real...
Abruptly, Akira pushes out a sharp puff of air, and he rolls his eyes heavenward, shaking his head into it, a faint gesture.]
The worst I could say is pretty bad, [he acknowledges at last; it's not like he doesn't understand the fear. By the way, he's over the facade, now, thank you very much. And he whets the edge of his own manner diligently enough to have an idea of how cruel he can be when he chooses.] But I'm seriously wondering. Shindou, did you think I would be unhappy if you came after me a bit? [He's retrieving a hand towel, its terrycloth not particularly soft, and pressing it against his wrists and forearms. While he dries off each of his fingers, he looks down upon all the stones they've washed together.] Didn't you know, that was why it felt so good. [A reciprocal yearning, and realized expressions of desire, and Shindou grabbing onto him. Akira had slept like the dead that night, exhausted by the catharsis of being wanted.
Again, in deliberate docility, Akira's eyes lift up to Shindou from an angle. He keeps his head inclined in its purposeful posture.]
I won't shout at you if you properly ask me to be with you. If that's what you're worried about. I promise. I already told myself I wouldn't do that, if you decided to ask.
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Abruptly, Akira pushes out a sharp puff of air, and he rolls his eyes heavenward, shaking his head into it, a faint gesture.]
The worst I could say is pretty bad, [he acknowledges at last; it's not like he doesn't understand the fear. By the way, he's over the facade, now, thank you very much. And he whets the edge of his own manner diligently enough to have an idea of how cruel he can be when he chooses.] But I'm seriously wondering. Shindou, did you think I would be unhappy if you came after me a bit? [He's retrieving a hand towel, its terrycloth not particularly soft, and pressing it against his wrists and forearms. While he dries off each of his fingers, he looks down upon all the stones they've washed together.] Didn't you know, that was why it felt so good. [A reciprocal yearning, and realized expressions of desire, and Shindou grabbing onto him. Akira had slept like the dead that night, exhausted by the catharsis of being wanted.
Again, in deliberate docility, Akira's eyes lift up to Shindou from an angle. He keeps his head inclined in its purposeful posture.]
I won't shout at you if you properly ask me to be with you. If that's what you're worried about. I promise. I already told myself I wouldn't do that, if you decided to ask.