ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇᴅ , ᵇ̲ᵉ̲𝐬𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐝 .

█ ○ 🙿   sincerity was always wrapped in a joke, a joke . he wasn't a mother but the twins seized the day in equal fervor for any excuse for something extraordinary — and satoru'd seized ... something . stomaching acknowledgement of a status quo he thought was distasteful ( swapping scowls, poking out his tongue that he'd ever had to share his suguru with a pair of teenaged girls ) for, what ? a joke softening sincerity because satoru was always interested in hands on flesh. if ironic, considering . suguru only stared for a minute's better half, then a second . heavy lidded lashes flicking up from under his bangs, from the unrestrained smatter of long strands painting his pillow in shades of black darker than dim ﹠. slowly readjusted fluffy socked ankles, slowly slid cool palms over the heat of satoru's thighs to hook by the bends of his knees. “ ... whatever . ” spit, swallowed, pale throat flexes by the turn of his head returning to sink heavy against his pillow .

█ ○ 🙿   sensibility wasn't the strongest layer to his skin — more like it was dressing. gold foil , paint . the obligation for decency pillowing a body that'd kicked out a little, clacked fingertips to the glass face of his phone before it'd fall some great height ﹠. sunk himself into the bracket of familiar arms . a magnet, clicking in place ; the furthest thing from 𝚏𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚕𝚎, but suguru's made a superficial load bundled around by the whims of someone stronger yet. he can't help the yawn, when it comes. sighed out soft, straight into satoru's face. “ ehhh .. what, is it my fault ? i'm conditioned to just expect short vignettes of time out of you . ” caustic , half laughing . one leg crosses comfortably over the other ( while the seat's offered ! ) ﹠. suguru returns tapping fingers to his phone, scrolling search results for summer vegetables and if human earthworm was based on true events . “ will you eat slowly ( and pick up the tab ) ? i want to date all day . ” i want to come home late by choice . greet you to bed bone - tired from anything but work, for once .

tf are you bonking me for .

yippee yippee yahoo 🕺🕺

ㅤ ㅤ the puzzle of satoru — more like a tangled ball of string . stubborn cords needing coaxing, patience . unwound with hands willing to see through point a to point b . he'd already sat crowned king of society by the time suguru'd stepped a single foot into territory already touched by one boy's six eyes ; maybe he should've fought more, struggled further, been more put out in feeling himself ( like all things ) becoming something belonging to satoru . his, his. rival, friend. best friend . all his, and there's nothing ever worse than the indulgence of a sidelong look, a chuckle breathing noise to the cut of a knowing smile . the bump of his heels against the wood when suguru'd propped up to sit beside him, sides nearly touching, holding a hand in wordless expectation at his chin until satoru'd relent ﹠. spit the candy into his palm — possession is belonging . a home carved into the shape of him. “ your bad aura rushed everyone off, y'know. happy now ? you're the one and only one i'm paying attention to right now. ” the candy's sweet when suguru holds it between his teeth. all the sour already melted away .

█ ○ 🙿    he's wet his wrists to the cuffs . fingers dipped down past a black mirror's surface of water ﹠. pulling back with the grip of a tentacle, two or three, wrapped tight 'round the bone — not for any necessary reason . never really needed to touch these things when he'd always had a way with phantoms, monsters, things no normal person knew ( things she didn't seem surprised to see . ) “ people doom themselves . being afraid of imaginary things, imagining it into existence. ” conversational ; suguru's cadence coils sweet ﹠. slight as a smile unmoving, and just like that the rosey red squid had disappeared back to nowhere — like a hole dug in the air. “ old folk tales get a little too scary , i suppose . people start tossing and turning, worrying about fish with claws, razor teeth . seeing eyes. i wonder which came first : the fear, or the reality ? ”

█ ○ ░    “ your personality .. ? and it didn't short circuit ? ” hair sticks to his cheek when he angles his head, soapy wet from a wrist absently brushed to his cheek while he'd stacked the scrubbed dish set ( cute and thrifted, painted with tulips : needing boiling ﹠. bleach, dirty fingerprints scoured off before anyone'd eat a scrap off the surface . ) his eyes creased to happy - shaped cuts, dark lashes in the gloom of a furrowed brow — was that his beloved's unchanging nature ? toying out of boredom with all things suguru could hardly hope to graze with his longest fingers, but ... it was just a flashing phone screen. website riddled with ads, declarations, colored text . a conman adoring a man happily conned, leaving mangled gifts at his step like a thankful cat. proud teeth speckled with blood, feathers . “ that's too selfish of me, keeping you from your real soulmate . ” the last plate clicked down ﹠. suguru'd turned with a towel rubbing the water from his hands ; hip propped to the counter's lip, eyes shut with a smile . “ i always thought you needed somebody older , to look after you well . could be that it's mei - san — she'd whip your spending habits into shape, at least . or utahime ... yes, the pair of you would make a handsome vision, provided she keep to her side profile for the wedding photos . now who should i hope for .. ? ”

this you ?

the towel is soft where he'd wound it around satoru's shoulders, draped low over his chest. white as the hair suguru'd gingerly scrubbed to a fluffied damp before he'd returned to that knee set hard into the cool tile, fingers hot where they'd wrapped around an ankle ﹠. toweled his skin dry by the calf upwards — methodical, careful . favor like a task of worship, an idle hobby, nothing so far from tending to the weeds in his garden ( had he ever set his cheek on the soil the way he had satoru's thigh then, kissed the roots like he had his pale veins, ever looked at the sprouts of a shrub the way almond eyes roamed up from under his lashes, thinking him ... something beautiful, alight by the setting sun . for more than so much skin warmed in a peach blood rush . ) suguru looks, looks. lax fingers letting the towel droop at his knee, dampened by satoru's body. breath buried into muscle with the decisiveness of the shut of his eyes, murmuring, “ this time .. how long can you stay ? ”

█ ○ ░    honeyed, sweet cuts a ribbon across his face , coiled harmlessness between plain honesty's spokes . like the flats of his hands laid evenly across his lap, all cards of the proverbial sort set stacked face - up beside his cooling tea cup, beside her sweating glass — and cards of the actual sort, the playing sort . weathered, edges wrinkled, suguru's smiling eyes ticked into partial moons ﹠. lashes like the cut of an ink black brush, words fresh and drying ( ' well done ! you played better than i expected . ' ) his knuckles CLICK when he lifts them, threaded like a daisy chain beneath his resting chin. “ could i only be either ? no ... i couldn't deign to be anything but nice to your face . ” head 𝚝𝚒𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 like a scale overturned, long loose bangs kissing the sweet pleasantry of a game's extended poker face ﹠. the stack of cards snapped softly between his shuffling fingers ; '𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝' unspoken, loudly laced around words grown from candy - hardened needle points .