#rishida

It doesn’t hurt half as bad as it looks. He wishes he could say the same about the rest of his clothes. The brightly colored silk kimono is nearly brown from all the caked on mud. It’s torn and charred from ash and its delicate beaded-stitching hangs frayed off the ends, nearly every crystal bead missing, lost to the river. Lousy demons have no respect for fashion.

Another chill puts him on his feet. The water is moving west so he heads east in hopes he can find the way back. It’s nearly nightfall which means he’ll likely have to find shelter before the rest of his crew. He hopes his prolonged absence won’t cause too much worry. The air seems to get colder with every step. His once beautiful flowing outfit now clings to him trapping the cold in. How much longer? He wonders, but looking behind him, it doesn’t look like he’s traveled much at all. Exhaustion is catching up with him. His limbs are heavy and he feels sluggish. He needs to find a safe place to rest.

Hugging the tree line, he lets his magic fan out, just a little bit. Just enough to catch something. And he does, something familiar. Ahead of him, a tall blurry object is coming in fast. Exhaustion muffles the sound at first as his knees give out, but then he hears it clear as day:

“ISHIDA!”

In a blink, his archer is at his side, concern etched in those chiseled features. His hands are on him in an instant, caressing his face with warm calloused fingers.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?” He asks, plumb eyes scanning every inch of him.

Ishida shakes his head, leaning into his touch.

“Hell’s name. I saw you go over the cliff and,”

“I’m alright. What about the others?”

“They’re fine. Hein got a bit scrapped up, but Myya took care of it.”

“That’s good. And the katchra demon?”

“Ashes.”

“Good, good. So, tell me, how far did I end up?”

“Far enough that we’re going to have to find a place to camp tonight.”

“I was afraid you’d say that.”

“Don’t worry, I saw a good spot not too far from here, can you stand?”

Ishida nods and allows Ryuji to help him to his feet. He sways a bit, but denies the offer to be carried. They walk slow and the archer keeps his hand on his back steading him. Each time he shivers, Ryuji pulls him in closer, and he’s grateful for the warmth. They come to a long cave right beside a small waterfall.

“I’ll get a fire going,” Ryuji announces, grabbing some sticks nearby.

Ishida looks over at the waterfall and down at his mud crusted legs.

“I think I’ll go wash up, or…try to anyway.”

The hard pressure water does wonders for his face and skin. His clothes on the other hand are a lost cause. Admittedly, getting them rewet was probably not the best plan, he just couldn’t stand to have them on anymore. He lets the water run over his face one more time, psyching himself up to put on the wet clothes once more. But as he turns to the edge of the pool, his clothes are gone.

“Uh, Ryuji darling,” he calls out, securing the knot on his pants. “Where are my clothes?”

He walks over to where his sopping wet clothes had been clumped in a pile, only to find a dry neatly folded tunic. He runs his hand over the wooven fabric, before slipping it on. It fits him like a dress and nearly hangs off his shoulder. No surprise, given that the owner’s much taller than he is. He folds the sleeves up to his wrists and pulls the loose hole of the neck up to his face relishing the warmth and scent of pine.

Inside the cave, he finds his clothes laid out beside one side of the fire to dry. On the other side, Ryuji sits shirtless, stoking the flames. Ishida takes a moment to trace where the light highlights his muscles and curves. When the archer catches sight of him, lingering, he fumbles the stick in his hand nearly burning himself.

“Hi,” he says, mouth hanging slightly open.

“Hi,” Ishida smiles, fidgeting a bit under the heavy gaze.

“You should come get warm,” Ryuji suggests nodding at the fire.

Ishida complies, moving close to the embers like a moth. As he shifts to sit more comfortably, Ryuji’s arms wrap around his waist, pulling him into the archers lap. He feels like a furnace, completely cocooned in warmth.

“Better?” He hears Ryuji ask, as he rests his chin on his shoulder.

“Much,” Ishida hums.

Ryuji tucks his nose into the crook of his neck breathing deeply.

“You smell like me,” he says.

Ishida’s stomach sparks like the embers of the fire.

“Probably because I’m wearing your shirt, handsome. Thank you, by the way.”

Ryuji nods and pulls him into closer.

“I like it,” he says, “seeing you in my clothes.”

“Do you now?”

Ryuji answers by pressing a kiss to his neck, just under his ear.

“I do,” he says and Ishida shivers. “You look…you look like you’re mine.”

“Hm,” Ishida hums, shifting to touch Ryuji’s face so their eyes meet. “I am yours, darling.”

He turns to straddle his lap, looping his arms around Ryuji’s neck.

“All yours.”

The corners of the archers lips twitch, desire pooling in his eyes. His kiss is hot, as if he’s trying to burn his very being into Ishida’s lips. He isn’t entirely sure he has the energy, but when those lips move down his neck to his exposed collarbone, he decides to let the archer have his way with him. Oh the horror.