#celestrot

＊ . While Karl warmly indulges pets from Ranpo, Edgar refuses to melt. He is here in attendance as requested, yes, but not for pleasantries. What matters most to him is setting the record straight. A line of inquiry burns his throat; he has to hold it down with lips pressed tight together.

His well-timed assault rewards him more than he’d thought. Ranpo’s eyes widen splendidly. Surprise? Confusion? Perhaps… frustration? Giddiness swarms Edgar’s chest. He wishes to cackle then and there, but settles for a modest smile that brings just a touch of color to his cheeks.

Oh, how good it is. How sweet it is. Look at that pout! Edgar has won here, even if Ranpo retaliates moments later. Labeling him a cheater, of all things, smears not one inch of his pride. “You picked the wrong confidant,” he counters, oddly riled. Miss Montgomery is capable of keeping a secret, of course, but Edgar can be… compelling with someone so close to him. When he wants and means to be, that is.

Hihii I would love to throw Fyodor at your Chuuya if you'd be interested ♡ ~ @celestrot

"Damn... it..."

@celestrot jouno for tecchou; "don't get the wrong idea. it's just too loud for me to navigate in here."

＊ . Dance music drums in Tecchō’s chest. He feels the thud as if it were what pumped blood through his body, not his heart. The crowd has thinned over time, but the music of this festival has yet to mellow, and enough people linger to add a background track of chatter.

Some ‘bonding excursion’ this is. He’s not sure where Teruko went, or if Tachihara stayed, or what antics their dear taichō has gotten up to. ( It probably involves alcohol. ) The only coworker he’s managed to keep track of is Jōno. They’ll have a much better time moving off to the sidelines of the party, he bets. Maybe they can try some seasonal foods together or—

Fingers take hold of their hand. Tecchō’s entire attention falls to their companion, lips tightly pressed, brows narrowed together. Rigidity must be a dead giveaway to their surprise.

“ Don’t get the wrong idea, ” Jōno tells them. “ It’s just too loud for me to navigate in here. ”

Oh. In a mere second, Tecchō properly intertwines their fingers together. Firm, steady. Its thumb glides twice over Jōno’s knuckles to confirm its grip. Then, when it’s sure of it… “ Understood, ” it mutters. Speaking any louder is unnecessary; Jōno will hear it at this distance, and it does not wish to aggravate the issue.

“ Stay close. ” Step by step, Tecchō nudges through the crowd. Broad shoulders and imposing stature part people aside, letting him lead Jōno through the worst of the sea. He keeps a consistent pace, so regardless of whether Jōno hears his steps, they can estimate his speed. He is walking no differently than he always does at headquarters or the dorms. They’ll know. They’re capable.

Even after they reach the perimeter of the chaos, he does not pry free. Jōno is the one who must decide when to let go. He had the concern, after all. “ Better? ” Tecchō asks as he turns on his heels.