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tampered2007-11-21 03:40 pm
lying-obedience.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2007-11-21 03:40 pm
=/= UNHIATUS
When; Early Afternoon.
Rating; PG [Probably]
Characters; Agatsuma Soubi [![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lying_obedience], Aoyagi Ritsuka [pixelatedmemory]
Summary; One artist. One subject. Art. Fluff. Cuteness abounds. ♥
Note; On-going ~
Log;
If Kio were there, perhaps he would have laughed at him.
He was drawing at the cigarette in his mouth with a sense of heavy nervousness, fingers clenching at the filter particularly hard. One breath, out, and his lips tasted nicotine again. It wasn’t as if he had never done this before. Often, it was good practice to keep one’s skills honed.
But…
But Soubi had never used Ritsuka as a means for his art before this.
It was a thought he’d had often – to ask the boy, though he himself was lousy at drawing. He always imagined staring at the finer details of his Sacrifice, hand moving over paper to draw out the lines and soft angles of his face. Or canvas.
To solidify Ritsuka’s beauty in paint—
He casually crushed the cigarette in a nearby tray and left the room designated as his studio. There would be plenty of time for that; he only had to wait for Ritsuka. Which he would do, he idly thought to himself, with the door open.
What did it matter to lock it anyway? Soubi smiled.
Rating; PG [Probably]
Characters; Agatsuma Soubi [
lying_obedience], Aoyagi Ritsuka [pixelatedmemory]Summary; One artist. One subject. Art. Fluff. Cuteness abounds. ♥
Note; On-going ~
Log;
If Kio were there, perhaps he would have laughed at him.
He was drawing at the cigarette in his mouth with a sense of heavy nervousness, fingers clenching at the filter particularly hard. One breath, out, and his lips tasted nicotine again. It wasn’t as if he had never done this before. Often, it was good practice to keep one’s skills honed.
But…
But Soubi had never used Ritsuka as a means for his art before this.
It was a thought he’d had often – to ask the boy, though he himself was lousy at drawing. He always imagined staring at the finer details of his Sacrifice, hand moving over paper to draw out the lines and soft angles of his face. Or canvas.
To solidify Ritsuka’s beauty in paint—
He casually crushed the cigarette in a nearby tray and left the room designated as his studio. There would be plenty of time for that; he only had to wait for Ritsuka. Which he would do, he idly thought to himself, with the door open.
What did it matter to lock it anyway? Soubi smiled.
no subject
Besides, it was nice getting out of the apartment for a change. It had become too small, too crowded, without Seimei there. And it just felt weird being with Nisei. It sobered him up a little, remembering that Seimei wouldn't be there when he got back, took a little of the bounce out of his step. He had to wonder for a moment: would it be like back home, now that Seimei was gone again? It had happened once before, and he'd managed to deal with it fairly well, but..
No. Ritsuka shook his head, banishing the thoughts from his mind. He was going to see Soubi, who would draw him. That was all he needed to focus on right now. He stopped at the doorway to the apartment, frowning at the wide-open door. He knocked once, twice on the jamb before coming in and closing the door after him.
"Soubi! It's dangerous to leave the door open like that!"
no subject
Soubi had been in the process of searching for another cigarette, pockets oddly empty and box missing from the bookcase. Reluctant, he pushed strands of blond over his shoulder and stood, staring at that recognizable face with an ever-present smile.
"I'm sorry." The apology came naturally, though almost an afterthought.
...how long had it been since he'd seen him?
Soubi moved towards Ritsuka in less than two strides, the space between them short, the length of his legs useful at that particular moment. He knelt in front of him, eyes peering at him from beneath the awkward fall of blond as well as the rims of his glasses.
"Forgive me?" He offered a tentative grin, fingers resting lightly on the other's wrist.
no subject
The boy's eyes widened as Soubi knelt. Had he become unaccustomed to the man's odd habits? No way! They hadn't seen each other for a while, sure, but.. no way it was long enough for such a drastic change, right? He frowned a little, looking away. "It's your apartment, why do I need to forgive you for it?"
Maybe it'd take a little bit of time to get used to being around him again.
no subject
"Ritsuka..."
For the briefest moment, he tilted his head against the boy's shoulder, close enough to feel him, the realness of the situation. Off-hand, he couldn't recall a recent time like this. When he could smell him, the shampoo he used, the miscellaneous scents attached to him.
So soft.
"You're so cute," he whispered, pulling away to stand and take the boy's hand. Of course they would have time for that later. There would always be time for that.
Now, however, was time for art.
It was casual, the way he tugged to lead Ritsuka back to the room he had recently left. His fingers tightened, squeezing reassuringly, and still, when the thick aroma of paint and thinner overwhelmed his senses, he did not let go.
He said nothing, only turned to glance at him.