http://saccharine-end.livejournal.com/ ([identity profile] saccharine-end.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] tampered2006-10-02 10:30 pm

Log, Complete.

When: Oct. 1st, afternoon
Rating: PG-ish
Characters: Tatsumi Seiichirou [[livejournal.com profile] thrifty_shadow] and Asato Tsuzuki [[livejournal.com profile] saccharine_end]
Summary: Games. It's all about the games they don't understand.

Log:


Tatsumi sighed as he shut the laptop and pulled down its lid. Tsuzuki had almost outwitted him back there. Almost. Tatsumi Seiichirou knew how to control people through words alone and using those skills, he successfully manage to keep Tsuzuki from staying with him all day and night. He needed to get to the ball... alone. Without Tsuzuki knowing. Fact.

"So where shall we go now, Tsuzuki?" Tatsumi asked with a smile. He disliked lying to Tsuzuki but sometimes... it was necessary.


It didn’t take a relatively intelligence person to realize Tatsumi was hiding something, the anxious feeling overwhelming him even as he tried answering the other shinigami’s question without rambling too much. Perhaps some of Hisoka’s empathic ability was starting to wear off on him…? And maybe it was better he didn’t know Tatsumi’s agenda…just as Tatsumi was not to know anything of Tsuzuki’s plans. Yes, plans.

Tsuzuki sighed. “As long as we’re out together, it doesn’t matter. You pick.” He laughed, wondering if Tatsumi was already planning their venture out step-by-step, coin-by-coin.


He's hiding something.

Studying Tsuzuki's expression, Tatsumi couldn't help but feel cheated. Like his friend was withholding something from him. He had reason to be suspicious; the Tsuzuki he knew would not ever back down once he'd set his eyes on doing something. The Tsuzuki currently in front of him looked willing to drop his earlier persistence. Tatsumi decided to keep on guard then. Cake at Cafe Juliet. A walk around the city. Yes, that would tire Tsuzuki enough to, perhaps, retire early. Early enough so he didn't catch him sneaking out to join the ball in a ridiculous outfit that he had decided was simply too... gaudy.

"How about we spend some time at Cafe Juliet? My treat, Tsuzuki." Let's see what you're hiding, Tsuzuki-san.


He knew that place, Rangiku having treated him there herself, and Tsuzuki instantly laughed his agreement. And he hadn’t lost sight of his original intentions either. At least, he liked to think he hadn’t forgotten. Subconsciously, the last time they’d been out together continued to rub on him, persistently causing him to stop, pause, touch fingertips to his mouth. Once, he’d caught himself blushing at the thought, incredibly childish, and for a solitary moment, he wondered if Hisoka had caught on. Which instantly instigated a stillness in him not like his usually so exuberant self. Embarrassed of a kiss, Asato?

Immediately, Tsuzuki shook his head. Then nodded, ultimately confusing himself.

“They have good sake,” he answered, smiling wide as he rushed to the door of the apartment to ignore the (possibly) suspicious look Tatsumi was giving him. “Come on!”


Had Tatsumi been more attentive to the subject of his thoughts, he would have seen Tsuzuki touch his lips with his fingers in a wistful manner. However, the kagetsukai was busy plotting at the doorway, staring off into the distance with a calm unreadable face. He was going to squeeze out whatever secret Tsuzuki was hiding from him. He had good instincts and his instincts told him that this time, Tsuzuki's secret should be pried.

Upon Tsuzuki's words, Tatsumi snapped his attention back towards his friend. A quick response followed, "I prefer coffee, really." And he thought he'd need coffee, naturally, considering how late the festivities were. He was used to staying up late and sleeping little only to rise early in the morning, but a little booster never hurt. "So what would you like?”


It took Tsuzuki nearly the entire trip to Café Juliet to finally decide he wanted muffins. Warm, soft, taste-so-good-whether-you’re-dead-or-not muffins. Chocolate ones. Maybe an apple one, too. He really couldn’t decide on the flavor, but as long as Tatsumi was paying for it, he would indulge just a little more. And perhaps he could get the other shinigami to tell him where he was planning to go, seduce him with smiles and talking. Of course he hadn’t forgotten; it just seemed that way.

Tatsumi liked him, after all. Didn’t he? Tatsumi was his friend.

Instinctively grabbing Tatsumi’s hand, the warmth still there, coursing through his skin, Tsuzuki dragged him to a booth near the back and plopped in a seat. He only released the other’s fingers when he had to, wiggling a little in his seat. Tsuzuki enjoyed the freedom his non-work related clothes provided him with, and he pulled at the sweater’s cuffs, absently eyeing the watch on his wrist. Something he never removed…

He fought back a sigh, smiling warmly at Tatsumi. “Muffins, please.”


Tatsumi frowned, noticing the look on Tsuzuki's face as his purple eyes traveled down to the watch on his right wrist. Yes, he knew what that meant. Not knowing what else to do, Tatsumi briefly held the younger shinigami's hand in his and, when the purple-eyed shinigami turned questioningly at him, smiled before letting his hand slip away. He called for the waitress and ordered Tsuzuki's muffins, a cup of coffee and a slice of black forest cake. It occurred to him suddenly that he hadn't asked what Tsuzuki wanted to drink. Sake didn't seem so well matched with muffins.

"Tsuzuki, what would you like to drink?" he asked gently.


Eyes widened a little at the unexpected contact, his fingers tingling when Tatsumi withdrew his own, and Tsuzuki stared at his hand, curious, wondering. It wasn’t as if they avoided such random gestures. He liked the comfort the other brought, the smallest kindness here and there, sometimes wiping at his mouth if they shared a meal together. He…

Tsuzuki instantly stared at Tatsumi, mouth slightly agape, the waitress still waiting to leave upon his request for something to drink. Would he do that now, too? That--

“Coffee’s good!” he answered in a rush, shaking his head of a thoughts that would most likely warrant questioning if his face decided to disobey him and brighten a shade or two. He could hear his shikigami laughing, feeling their amusement, and that in itself almost made him wish he hadn’t begged to go with Tatsumi. Instead, he simply directed another bright grin at the waitress. “With extra milk and sugar, too.” And upon their server’s disappearance, Tsuzuki abashedly watched the table, hands drawn securely in his lap.


Tatsumi arched an eyebrow, watching Tsuzuki's reaction quietly. Definitely hiding something, he thought wryly. He kept himself from acting on habit and bringing his right hand to his chin; that would give him away, he knew. Instead he leaned forward, arms folded neatly on the table, with an intent to start a disarming conversation.

"You look tense," Tatsumi said nonchalantly and readied himself to take in and dissect whatever Tsuzuki's reaction was going to be.


He’d been expecting it, the shake of his head that tousled already messy hair even more almost instant, but violet eyes avoided the blue intently watching him all the same. Tsuzuki suddenly felt uncomfortable, pressure bearing down on his chest. Anxious. Tatsumi was making him feel extremely anxious, heated, flustered, and possibly just the slightest embarrassed. He didn’t enjoy the feeling, but the shinigami couldn’t ignore the curiosity of it. And he tore his gaze from the Café’s relatively clean floor after a moment, tilting his face back towards Tatsumi. A soft smile, reassuring.

“I’m okay. Just…wondering about stuff.” Tsuzuki hadn’t any idea how suspicious that probably sounded, but it was the truth. It was good to be honest among those he knew, and blinking, eyes narrowing a little as they examined Tatsumi’s face, he suddenly laughed. Really laughed.

Tatsumi’s glasses. They were cute.


Tatsumi's eyebrows rose and he blinked at his companion's sudden outburst. He brought a hand to cover his mouth consciously and asked, "Is something the matter?" Was something on his face? Tatsumi felt oddly foolish. Did he forget something?

Just then, the waitress came with their orders.


And saved. Tsuzuki could almost hear himself breathing a sigh of relief at not having to immediately explain his reasoning for laughing like he did. He thanked the waitress with an appreciative smile and immediately dug into his muffin, his…blueberry muffin. It was warm, made him feel warm, and he sighed happily, taking a moment to watch the other carefully dissect his cake and sip at his coffee.

Something wrong? Tsuzuki grinned, internally shaking his head as he took another bite of the warm dessert. Of course not. You’re here, aren’t you?

“Do you like it?” He licked at his lips as he spoke, trying to get at the crumbs clinging to the corner of his mouth. “Tatsumi…?”


Shaking his head amusedly, he reached for the handkerchief inside his jacket and leaned onto the table to gently wipe at the crumbs on his partner's face. He smiled down at his friend and sighed, "Always so messy..."

He sat back once he thought he'd cleanly wiped Tsuzuki's face and began with his slice of cake. "Even I can't dislike good food, Tsuzuki." And this was coming from the man who was wary about eating anything at all in the odd city days ago. "And it's at a reasonable price," he added as an afterthought, as he brought a slice to his lips. His glasses slipped a little and, automatically, his left hand moved to readjust it, middle finger sliding up the bridge of his nose to push it upwards.


It was too difficult to ignore the way his body fidgeted under Tatsumi’s close touch as he rubbed the soft cloth across his mouth, over the lower part of his chin before drawing away. And it happened, his face instantly winning over will, turning the lightest shade of scarlet but still dark enough for anyone to realize he was blushing. Tsuzuki tried to suppress it, but the more he did, the faster his skin changed color, his brain mentally kicking himself.

He coughed, staring hard at his muffin, trying to ignore the way Tatsumi’s fingers almost caressed his glasses, and Tsuzuki swallowed his coffee as quickly as he could manage when he reached for the cup, trying to take his mind off it. Suffocating, embarrassed. What was he doing? Completely ignoring everything the other had said, he pushed the muffin forward, appetite suddenly lost.

“I think I’m done now,” he murmured, rubbing a hand over his face, hopefully giving the appearance of tired rather than red in the face.


The smile on Tatsumi's face was quickly replaced by a slight frown. He quietly put down his fork and worriedly eyed his friend. "Tsuzuki? Are you unwell?" He paused and frowned at the redness on the younger shinigami's face. Previous suspicions promptly, and possibly temporarily, set aside, he wondered if the purple-eyed shinigami was coming down with something. It could be the muffins. Yes.

He reached for Tsuzuki's hands and asked again, "Tsuzuki? If you'd like, we can go home now." Remembering their food, he added, "We can always ask for them to wrap up our left-overs."


It seemed inevitable that Tsuzuki was also to choke on his coffee, an action almost immediate when Tatsumi questioned his state of health. He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, gentle pushing the coffee cup away. Calm, calm. He felt faint, and he honestly didn’t understand why.

“It’s just a little hot in here,” he replied, not far from the truth at all. But if Tatsumi asked, he wasn’t going to explain it, really had no idea what words to use to describe it. And going back to the apartment instantly seemed like the best thing to do; he wasn’t sure he could wait for them to wrap up their food. Tsuzuki was oblivious to the way his voice stretched as he spoke.

“Can’t we leave right now?” It was unlike him, but he really wanted to hide right now.


Worriedly, Tatsumi rose from his seat and began, once more, dabbing Tsuzuki's face with his handkerchief. He said nothing and was calling for the waitress in the matter of moments. From the looks of it Tsuzuki was going down with something. He snapped his orders even though he'd said them as politely as he could and ignored the flinch one the waitress' face.

"Yes, we can Tsuzuki," he answered the younger shinigami, searching those purple eyes for the reason. Worry filled him when he realized he couldn't figure out what was ailing his friend. He hadn't eaten much sweets, that he knew, so it couldn't be something related with food..... He stopped suddenly and turned sharply and was relieved to see the waitress was still nearby. "Forget it. I'll leave the money here and you can dispose of that."

After leaving their payment, Tatsumi turned his full attention towards Tsuzuki. "Do you need help walking, Tsuzuki?" he offered. It was ridiculous to ask, he knew, but still, he worried about Tsuzuki's sudden change of health. He'd been so bouncy, so sly earlier... What could have changed that?


The world became a swirling mess of confusion as Tsuzuki watched it from somewhere in the distance, the way Tatsumi switched into his, for lack of a better word, Secretary from Beyond Hell mode. It was disconcerting, watching those sapphire eyes twist with unexplained emotion. Worry, fear, something Tsuzuki couldn’t quite place. Even as he tried to understand it, his fingers reached for Tatsumi’s hand, clenching tightly around his wrist. The shinigami couldn’t tell if he was trying to push him away, tell him he was fine, just tired, or have him close.

What is this? Ta--

“Tatsumi…” It was a whisper, soft. Maybe it was a plea for help, to understand everything. Because he certainly didn’t know. Tatsumi was smart and helpful and… He’d make it go away, wouldn’t he?

“I just want to lay down. I can walk,” he explained after a solid moment of staring at the other, ignoring the money on the table, the abandoned sweets. Not even the lively atmosphere of Café Juliet seemed to disturb him as he slowly pushed himself from his seat at the table, a little unsteady, heart pounding at the strange emotions sweltering in his mind, his chest. Was this how Hisoka felt? Was this another curse of the City? Had they accidentally switched abilities, drawing in everything around him? Was it him, his own feelings? Was it…

“Tatsumi…” Instinctively, Tsuzuki sought him, hiding his face against the other’s chest, arms around him in a hug. Safe. Safe. And he didn’t care they were in plain view of everyone bothering to look. Safe…

He closed his eyes.


More deeply worried for his companion than ever, Tatsumi let Tsuzuki hug him, let the purple-eyed shinigami bury his face into his chest and fluster him. Confuse him. Make him want nothing more but to enclose himself into a cloud of shadows and disappear until Tsuzuki was better once more. He took a deep breath and they were silent for a while, until Tatsumi noticed eyes upon them. He returned the curious looks with a malicious glare, promising mutilation to all those who dared say anything or pry through his cold blue eyes. It worked like a charm because before long, all the onlookers had turned away and it was as if they had never seen the odd spectacle.

He bowed down and whispered gently to Tsuzuki, "Are you sure you'll be fine? Or shall I port us back to the apartment?"

As he waited for an answer, he held the younger shinigami tighter into his embrace. On normal circumstances, he would have been more uncomfortable. more unwilling to indulge. But right now, he saw why Tsuzuki would seek comfort and could only, naturally, worry.


The throbbing in his chest seemed to almost instantly disappear the moment Tatsumi drew him closer, so incredibly warm and welcoming. But it drew a different rhythm to his heart, not quite so terrified as it was timid, and Tsuzuki didn’t trust his voice to answer. He simply nodded his head, leaving it up to the other shinigami how to return them home, not wanting to look up, not wanting to face the people around them, himself…

Tatsumi.

Tsuzuki felt a small shiver run down his spine, a choked sound under his breath as he inhaled, and he realized Tatsumi smelled just as good as he felt. He wanted to curl around it, cling to it, and he did, desperation strong. Not even Hisoka made him experience this untamed sensation wrapping tightly around that part of himself he forced himself to forget, and it made him want to…cry.

Don’t let go.