tampered | [log ; incomplete]

[log ; incomplete]

when; Sunday, June 8, morning.
rating; PG-13 for now.
characters; Sakurazuka Seishirou (

i_themagician).
summary; A rendezvous underneath a sakura tree ain't as simple as it seems.
log;

The evening before had been profitable - a little smoke, a little dirt, a lot of blood, and more magic still. And then the hit had gone down quicker than it should have. Not that he minded so much - the glass all looked the same when shattered, didn't really matter how it was crushed into those splinters. "Could've fought more." That was the eulogy, the last kindness to the victim that Seishirou himself gave before... well, good magicians never told their secrets.

Magician, indeed.

A brief sleep was all he really needed, in all honesty. The grey suit laid before him on that hanger, begging to be worn and maybe dry-cleaned soon. But he preferred that smell - one part cologne (expensive and in good taste), one part heady blossoms, one part earth and rain, the rest all smoke. It was a subtle sort of scent... and that was how he preferred it. Even then he was imparting more of such subtlety into that fabric, a lit cigarette being his morning accomplice as he took his pilgrimage through the park.

He only hoped it hadn't become too obvious... although he did often rise at an ungodly hour in the opinion of the general populace. Old habits, they were die-hard; who else would have opened that veterinary clinic in order to hide those victims of sakanagi? And even now, he had some evidence to hide. The tree certainly didn't do everything itself, and neither did he do everything by his own powers. A casual hum - was that the Pink Ladies, or was it some strange commercial jingo? he couldn't remember - and he was within metres of Mecca.

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A contented sigh broke the silence as another magician leaned back to rest his head against the tree trunk, a faint blush coloring his cheeks from all the sake he had already imbibed at this early hour. Seishirou was honestly only half of the reason Clow had come here - the other half went a lot farther in explaining why he had been sitting here for an hour already and why he was drinking. Pink petals littered his disheveled hair and black robes like so much confetti at a New Year's Eve party, and he was almost drunk enough to think it was January or April or really any time but June.

A certain suited man approached, as expected, and Clow's pale blue eyes twinkled with amusement as he watched Seishirou for a moment, casually raising the cup of rice wine to his lips once more.

Now there was a startling image. The tree had just come into Seishirou's sight, and he realised he wasn't the only early riser in the city. Not that he was or should have been surprised at this fact. What got his attention was more the figure that sat in black Chinese robes, sake bottle at his side and hair in a mess. It almost lacked grace - suddenly, he wondered how the tree had allowed such misconduct, a near-blemish, to stain such nobility.

A few steps closer revealed just who it was. And then an interesting thought of his own came to mind.

He dared not give away a trace of surprise; no, of course, a dishevelled, bespectacled - were his glasses.... crooked? - man underneath the tree was a regular occurrence. The branches swayed, and he could see the cynicism inherent of a few centuries. Cute. They just nearly brushed at the other man in an attempt at the sake cup.

And then he stepped closer - one, two, three.

"Ah, Clow-kun."

"Sei-chan~," Clow responded with an amount of affection and effeminate charm that he would not be able to show towards the other man while sober. He adjusted his spectacles before offering Seishirou one of his best smiles and standing with a perhaps surprising amount of grace. The two men were near opposites when it came to mode of dress - archaic versus modern, haphazard versus clean-cut - and Clow took a moment to look Seishirou up and down appraisingly before speaking. "Mmn. You didn't come here to join me, but the offer is there."

It was an odd mismatch, yet so fitting - representatives from two different times, staring each other in the eye (even if one's eyes were glazed over). And odder still was that little drunken slur he had heard. Playful, teasing, and a little too eager. But there was some potential for amusement, and he had had a longing to see a little retribution for the remarks he had received. Seishirou certainly didn't like being one-upped so sneakily, when that was his forte.

That drunken fool, the magician that stood before him in such a sloppy state, was an upstart, in a sense.

"I take it that's sake?" He eyed the set up quickly, before taking a seat near it and helping himself to some. The invitation had only been offered - he'd be so rude as not to accept the invitation.

"Indeed~" Clow took a seat himself, somewhat daintily in a drunkenly-effeminate sort of way, and poured himself another cup. He had brought two cups, you see, having expected such company. This last cup of his, however, would be sipped slowly and nursed indefinitely - Clow didn't need to be any more drunk than just enough to look like a fool. He leaned forward, flirtatiously invading Seishirou's personal space a little to strike up some 'friendly' conversation. "So, Sei-chan~. ♥ You're up a bit early, aren't you~?"

"Early...?" He echoed Clow's remark as he poured himself some of his host's offerings. Hardly fit the time of day, but it was five o'clock somewhere; not that he needed to rationalise anything, of course. Once that was done, it was set aside and Seishirou grinned placidly at the other man. Awfully close. Any closer, and there'd be such inappropriateness.

"It depends on your definition of early," he replied evasively, politely before inhaling smoke from his cigarette. He could smell the sake already on Clow's breath, and it was just a touch strong; a low tolerance...? Hardly, he reminded himself. While still keeping that congenial stare forward at his flirty company, he exhaled the smoke right into the other's face.

It was a game - hell, he had invented this game on occasion.

Clow drew back, laughing but trying to fan the smoke away from his face with one hand. He had no love for the scent of cigarettes (pipe smoke was another thing entirely), and the fact that he had recently come to associate the stench with one of his co-workers did nothing to help this fact. However, the hard part was not in pretending not to be disgusted, but pretending not to take the hint.

"Most people would call this early," he replied before looking up at the sky to judge the exact time merely by its particular shade of blue, allowing himself to sway a little in his seat. Estimating the time by shadows, by the particular color of the sky or the position of the sun or moon - he had had centuries of practice with that, but... ah. He looked back to Seishirou, warmly. "Sun just came up. S'early. Or are you one of those types of people, and just didn't go to bed~?"

The smoke had certainly worked, but it didn't cure his new-found drinking buddy of his glassy eyes. Or the affectation of them. It was lucky that he had been offered some of that drink, even if it seemed a bit too early for it. No one would be able to tell with one sip, one small portion, and he'd likely be able to disguise the scent with a cigarette. That smell would keep the other off him - or at least irk him enough.

"Early riser," he commented simply, drinking slowly on that sake. Quite nice, easy to go down. He tossed back his own congenial grin, completely concealing his desire to grind his cigarette into that arm to see the reaction. "But I could ask you the same thing."

"You could," Clow replied before seemingly contemplating his sake cup for a moment too long. His mind wandered - or did it? - and when he looked up and spoke next it was seemingly on a different topic. "Interesting coincidence that our paths should cross at such a time, don't you think?"

Coincidence. Now there, there he was speaking his language. Seishirou chuckled, taking another drink of sake and leaning into the tree itself. A nice start to the morning, even if the company he had was, well, lacking. If it was anything to go off of, though, he could certainly get a rise out of the other man.

There was the amusing part.

"Could even call it fate," he remarked with a smirk. Oh, yes, that conversation - he had filed away most every conversation he had ever had since his arrival here, ranging from the simplest to the most elaborate subjects and topics. "I wonder...." And now was the best time to maximise on such conversation; there was no hesitation in him, this time, leaning in closer to Clow.

"You don't believe in fate, though, do you?"

Clow hardly reacted to the sudden closeness but to smile congenially. Message sent and recieved - but was it gotten, he wondered. That was the trouble with being subtle; sometimes your quarry just did not know enough to be scared. On the other hand, sometimes it was fun to watch them scurry around like they were doing something.

Like this one. What did he think he was doing right now?

Leaning back against the tree trunk himself once more - perhaps their faces were closer now, like those of long-time friends - Clow resisted the urge to yawn and stretch lazily and catlike when he spoke. "Mnm... S'too simple."

One beat. Then another.

"But do you?"

"Heh." Closer, closer - what was that saying about friends, enemies, and proximity? Even being asked about fate, was that taunting it? Perhaps - but then again, he did so love tempting "fate". Hell, he tempted fate on a daily basis with the flip of a lighter spark wheel. What was a little more?

One inch closer, one more breath in between - he could smell that sake from such a distance. It might have even been on his breath then, but who knew? "I do wonder...." A chuckle, a short laugh of slight malice, and really, he could have just acted - the hour wasn't appropriate. Not yet, anyhow.

"Too fickle to make up your mind, Sei-chan?" The question came with a chuckle and just an inch less of space between them. Their noses touched, briefly - physical contact, how daring!

Fickle. Hah - and he also remembered that conversation. A more inebriated mind would have overlooked such detail; even still, Seishirou wondered. And wonder, wandering, wondering if he wandered a bit too much. Metaphysics were nearly the air he breathed, but emotions, well... that was a different story.

He had felt nothing still when that close contact occurred. Perhaps he was supposed to? Another game. He again let loose an amused chuckle, thinking on how easy it would be. And a willing prey, at that.

"And do you wonder if I haven't already?" Of course he had had his opinion reserved. There wasn't any merit on that man's part - no, he didn't need it. At least not just yet. Then, in a mockery of kindness, with such the sweet smile, his fingertips brushed on the corners of the other man's mouth with such ease hardly becoming such a situation. "Missed a drop."

Clow had been about to act disappointed at Seishirou's response, about to turn away and say something to the effect that the other man talked a lot but said little. Seishirou was a closed book, and it made him such frustrating prey - as much as Clow hated to admit that he found him challenging at all.

However, at the contact, he demurely looked down and to the side out of habit. The reaction was almost identical to what it would have been were he touched by a lover instead - close enough, Clow thought. He smiled as if embarrassed at how effeminate he was acting, and there was already a blush on his cheeks from the sake. It was so perfect, and yet his feelings were exactly the opposite. That loving brush of his mouth, that was just too much, and worst of all he couldn't back out now because he had started this game.

"Yes," he answered simply, looking up again to give Seishirou a heavy-lidded gaze from over his spectacles. It ended up looking much more inviting than Clow had wanted it to, and he knew it, but there was nothing for it. "Yes, I do."

How intriguing. And such a nice reaction. A little too nice, but that certainly wasn't of his accord. The redness, the sake, perhaps? But no such redness was on his own face; vaguely did he wonder if it stung, warmth causing those eyes to droop so prettily. He nearly wanted to ask.

No, a useless question. He'd still save it for later.

Quickly did he move to catch that chin with a firm - too firm, but it didn't matter - grip; look him in the eye. If he wanted to pretend to be drunk, well... that wasn't his problem, was it? "Then... you have any answers?"

Forceful. Were they to resort to rough play now?

"I have most of them," Clow said flatly, in a tone that almost betrayed the full extent of his malice. Seishirou would not handle him like he owned him and get away with it. One hand gripped the other man's wrist and moved to pull it away from his face.

Idiot.

Well.... there was a change. No more demure batting of lashes, no more of that coyness he had once thought reserved to women in film-noir movies. Wasn't that interesting... he laughed a little, a low rumble in his throat as he grabbed the wrist that grabbed his own.

"Then... care to let me in on them...?" And the grip around that wrist softened to a caress - the other had gotten in too deep, really, and he had slipped in his façade. Again, not his trouble to worry over. There was that saying about flies and honey - vinegar, no, that wasn't to taste. Besides, he had such a violent sweet tooth.

Slipped? Really? Or was that intentional? Clow was convinced it was; he never made mistakes.

His expression shifted to one of amusement, now, without breaking eye-contact. What do you intend to do with that wrist, darling? His own grip on Seishirou's wrist loosened. See? Part of the dance - he may have been acting, but he was still playing himself.

"Have you none of your own?" Seishirou wasn't the only one with a sweet tooth, but Clow couldn't help but lace his honey with just a bit of strychnine. Maybe it wasn't time yet, but it was so hard to resist when they went down this line of questioning. With his other hand - he had put the sake down, for shame - he reached to caress the other's cheek lovingly; he wanted to lead. "I'd hate to ruin a surprise~."

That hand on his cheek was something like poking a sleeping dragon in the eye. Clow either knew exactly what he was doing, or he didn't know at all what he was getting into. Not that Seishirou would ever warn him about the dangers of such association; that would have taken out all the fun, really.

And the one who had dared to touch him so familiarly certainly could take care of himself in the face of danger.

It was only too easy to see that, yes, his cat-and-mouse partner wanted to take the lead. Such a shame, though... it wouldn't come to be so. Still smiling in such a saccharine manner, his hand on that wrist then moved to the corresponding shoulder. "Perhaps I do...." And a push back, a gentle nudge, and he had Clow being pushed to lie on his back. Just to be safe, he himself straddled the other's waist - he had him right where he wanted him. "Perhaps I don't."

Or did he? No sooner was Clow on his back than he began to work on getting out of that position. His knees bent and pointing up, he braced his elbows against the other man's knees to keep them in place as he lifted his pelvis, forcing Seishirou onto all fours. From there it was a mere matter of locking one of Seishirou's arms and securing leverage before he rolled them both over.

Still between Seishirou's legs but in a much more advantageous position, having pinned the man by the shoulders, he grinned. Much of his apparent intoxication earlier had faded now - perhaps that could be attributed to the sobering experience of being mounted like that, but Seishirou likely knew better. "I think it's the latter, but you're welcome to prove me wrong."

Now what, mouse?

"Getting a little rough, are we?"

Quick move. Good move, in fact, and had he not been the one done in by this, Seishirou would have given a word of congratulations. Now it was all upside-down. Did it matter? Control was so subjective. It was time to illustrate such, he believed - this fool needed more of a proper education.

At first, he looked astonished. A sly, cool side-glance came to life instantly, then he stared back up with a welcoming smirk, a narrowed stare, and his hands at the collar of that robe to pull him down. Not drunk, but he still smelled that sake. The game had taken such an interesting turn... he just had to see where that would go.

"Is that an offer for reimbursement of my dry-cleaning?" He have a cordial little laugh - well, now they looked more like lovers, even if it was so far off the mark. A flash of a deviation, a mere trick of the eyes made the growing daylight catch in that amber half - ample distraction came from one hand sliding up from that collar into that much longer hair.

"Only if you pay for mine," came the cool response, but in reality the mind behind it was racing. Seishirou could at a moment's notice have him by the hair in a creative, if unorthodox, move and there was little Clow could do to counter it without breaking his concentration to do so. So, he tried not to let it distract him, instead moving to pin the wrist of the other's free hand. He also moved his other hand off of Seishirou's shoulder and onto the earth, pushing himself back up as much as he could so that he'd be harder to throw should Seishirou think to do so.

No, he'd not go so suddenly into action. Not when this was just getting good, not when he could so easily have the one hovering above him in such confusion. Seishirou's hand still remained in that mess of hair, and his fingers seemed wont to rake through it so deceptively sensually. He could play the part of a lover - he had before, and had done it so brilliantly that no one had even a small clue to the contrary.

Well, save for the one who had so many questions... but she, too, had shattered on the floor.

"Maybe...." One more tug on that collar - Seishirou wanted him closer, just to let him know how deep in he now was. He made certain his own lips were closer, just a breath away from Clow's own, and certainly no one would pass by and believe the two to be locked in a bitter battle for control. "You'll have to earn that."

Despite outward appearances, his gesture had had its intended effect - Clow knew now that he was in deep, but still refused to admit to himself that it was over his head. Still, there was a certain amount of apprehension. Neither of them were weak, but if it came to a physical struggle things could go either way. The thought of losing such a struggle and being forced to--

... In public--

Surely that wasn't what Seishirou meant, now was it?

Clow stared into the eyes of the man beneath him for perhaps a moment too long, an amused smirk gracing his face. Could it be a joke, just part of the game they were playing? If it was, perhaps he could scare his opponent by taking him up on it. Yet, every time Clow had tried that tactic so far the response hadn't been retreat but escalation. The concept that Seishirou was devoid of emotion hadn't occurred to him yet, so he remained impressed at the man's acting skills. How could he pretend to be so amorous without feeling dirty, as Clow did?

... Or was he not pretending?

Suddenly, he closed the distance between his mouth and Seishirou's, invading that of the other man with his tongue. The taste of cigarette smoke combined with sake wasn't the most pleasant, and that was the least of his concerns. He didn't want this and was afraid of what he was getting himself into, to the point where he might have shuddered a little against Seishirou. Yet, pressing on was the only thing he could do - retreat now would put him at a disadvantage in the long run, and if he aggressively made moves at this point perhaps he could gain control of the situation. Couldn't he?

Wasn't that a surprise. An amusing little surprise, true, and he had thought it would deter the other from taking that dive off the deep-end, metaphorically speaking. Brave - just keeping on like that, keeping the façade up. And in public, no less.

At the least, it made an interesting sight, what with those robes and the contrasting suit he kept on. Seishirou himself wasn't at all held aback by this - why should he have been? He felt that tongue in there, not at all expertly moving like he would have intended. Perhaps he was being a snob, but certainly there was an art to it all. Oh, but he had a good chance to take back that upper hand once and for all. And it'd look most interesting, should a passer-by come along such a sight.

He could end it whenever he so pleased, and he felt the least bit of remorse when he cut off Clow's attempt so short. Just a pause - one, two, three, go - just to stare at the other so intently, and in a mocking gesture, he mimicked the hand that had been on his own cheek previously. An otherwise sweet little scene, and yet poison bubbled beneath the sugar. It was such an amusing situation - so fitting, too.

"Here, allow me...." He trailed off intentionally. Oh just to see that angered look, he'd attempt nearly anything - not even necessarily short of murder, either. He only let a short glimpse of a malicious smirk loose before he reciprocated, this time him leading in the kiss. His tongue seemed to speak for him; See, a little gentler... caress, like that, you see? And he hoped that the taste of those Mild Sevens was potent.

The anger was there, alright, but an outside observer might have mistaken it for passion. His hands clenched, clutching fistfuls of that suit, as Clow squeezed his eyes shut. Damn him. Damn that Seishirou. He was taunting him now, so sweetly condescending as he acted as if Clow didn't know how to be a lover.

He'd do it, wouldn't he? He'd fuck Clow, and probably make him like it, just to piss him off. It was endlessly frustrating, realizing that he wouldn't be able to win this particular game no matter what - but it still wasn't as bad as if he had run away. He had learned something, and hence needn't be intimidated. Hence, the eventual end of the kiss saw him with a smile on his face again.

"Nice~," he almost whispered, letting his nose touch Seishirou's again in a gesture that held little purpose but one of 'affection' - something to make the other think that he had honestly enjoyed that. He took his time to push himself up into a kneeling position, casually, but he was quite firm about the action. Definitely getting up now; the game is over. "Nn, but that's quite enough, don't you think? We are in public, after all."

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[log ; incomplete]

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