[LOG] Soggy Atobe
Characters: Atobe, Oishi, and Jackal
Location: General campus, Atobe and Jackal’s dorm
Time: October 16th (Monday)
Rating: PG
Summary: Oishi finds a stray Atobe in the rain, Jackal adopts him.
The rain, which had begun as a deceptive mist was now coming down with vigor. Creating blotches as it bounced against the cobbles of the courtyard and rendered the grass sodden and slippery. No one with any semblance of sense was beyond the warm confines of the mansion. However, Atobe had a tendency to leave sense at the front door in some respects - Jackal's incessant nudity and the threat of detention had driven him down to the boat house. It was upon his return that he got caught up in a burgeoning storm with little in the way of protection from it.
Yet another sneeze caused Oishi's shoulders to jump and a brief shiver to vibrate down his back with the cold. Their heating system was only so powerful against the chilling cold constantly creeping in, and by the third wave of dark clouds that rolled in, it was all it could do to chug loudly away in the hallway as if it was breathing its last breath. Outside, the torrential downpour currently wreaking havoc on their grounds obscured the night in a thick fog, dampening any view more than a hundred meters out. Reaching for another tissue, a figure briefly caught his eye at the window-- though he came very close to ignoring it for fear he might be seeing things. Just who would be outside in a storm like this? But the longer he stared, the more the sad slumped silhouette in the distance became something he could no longer ignore. Without much thought, he grabbed his umbrella and headed quickly downstairs. Pausing time momentarily, he was able to save whatever poor soggy soul was out here at least a few brief minutes of water, even if it meant having to smack frozen droplets out of his pathway to get to him. Sighing when his identity came into view, Oishi only shook his head-- figuring he'd already come this far. "Atobe." To anyone else, it might have looked like Oishi materialized out of thin air, an umbrella over Atobe's head. "Do you need a hand?"
Quite far from his usual immaculate self, this Atobe was drenched almost beyond recognition. His silvery gray hair plastered to his nape and spiralling droplets of water from the fringe which obscured his cyan eyes.The designer clothing he seemed to be perpetually clad in was equally as sodden and clung to every inch of his slender frame like a second skin. The shivering he usually managed to keep in check was uncontrollable when confronted by such inhospitable weather; it caused his shoulders to quake and teeth to chatter no matter how much of that iron will of his he tried to divert into disguising both pitiful side-effects. At first he only seemed dimly aware that the rain has stopped lashing down upon him, and even when Oishi's presence makes itself known he just stood there, hugging both arms around his waist with his head down. "....g-go--go back i-inside."
Having had a sufficient amount of time to look the drenched mess that was currently Atobe over, (amidst dodging suspended raindrops), Oishi couldn't help but notice the bleak contrast between the prim and fiercely-decorated persona Atobe so often put forth, and what stood (barely) before him now-- looking more like a half-drowned animal desperately trying to stay afloat in the mouth of a storm drain. The cold was harsh to be sure, but not entirely unbearable, so it was either that Atobe had been stuck out here far longer than it should ever take to retreat back into the Mansion, or there was something far more serious at play here. Oishi avoided asking, standing silently in place and allowing the umbrella above them shield the other man just a little while longer. There was no logical reason why he would desire to be miserably sopped out here, but pointing out this weakness or lapse in character to someone who was otherwise so image-conscious seemed at best a poor choice, and at worst a personal jab. "It doesn't look like it's going to let up any time soon." Oishi gave a little tilt of his head, "At least let me walk you under the awning."
Atobe at least acquiesced to Oishi's subtle urging in that single respect. His footsteps dragged, but eventually using the shade of the umbrella as a lure of sorts, Oishi was able to guide him towards the shelter of the awning. It provided little in the way of warmth, but at least the space beneath it - which contained a wide wooden bench is dry and safe from the clattering downpour. Once sat down, the heir bent almost double, fighting a silent war between the impulses of his body, and the turbulence inside his head.
During their brief but painfully-delayed walk over, Oishi takes notice of the stilted steps, the unbalanced posture, and the grimaces behind his teeth. Though it could have very well been caused by exhaustion, dependent on what on earth he'd been doing out in this weather this late at night, the way Atobe staggered just to lower himself to sit, and the way he immediately crumpled in on himself once off of his feet clued Oishi in to the fact that this wasn't simply a typical reaction to the lower temperatures lately.
And when Atobe doubled over like a clenched fist, Oishi's umbrella clattered to the ground in surprise. "Are you--" all right, was how he'd meant to end that trailed question-- the answer seeming too blindingly obvious to continue. Instead he knelt down in front of him, trying to get a read on his face. "Do you… I mean, what's wrong? Can I get you something?"
The journey back had been made significantly longer by the fact that Atobe had been hanging around the secluded clearing he favored when it came to avoiding classes. With every step he'd taken the saturation of rain clogging up his clothes and smearing its chilled fingerprints all over every inch of exposed skin had made it harder to concentrate. He'd gotten turned around within the trees, and it was only a vague sense of humanity, of moods which called out to him which led to the path he stumbled onto being the correct one. Doubled over to his waist, his face is barely visible behind a wave of tousled, dripping strands of hair, but what little of it can be seen is creased with a rawer kind of emotion than Atobe's shown in all the years he's been languishing within the mansion. Those intense blue eyes of his are squeezed tightly shut, and each breath rattles around in his chest, exiting as a clipped gasp.
Oishi knew something had to be up when he didn't immediately get a sarcastic or condescending answer snapped back at him, and instead received a deafening silence. Freezing stiffly in place, he stared helplessly over the shaking, broken young man buckled in front of him-- the hands that had been holding his umbrella now open without purpose in front of his body. He stepped forward, then back, then forward again-- doing what could best be described as the world's smallest pace under the small allowance of that awning, and trying to work out what could be done for him with what little Oishi had. Firstly…
He hurriedly unzipped the thick jacket he'd clad around his own shoulders earlier tonight, following up with the sweatshirt he'd layered underneath and tugging them roughly from his back. For now he draped them across the bench and got to work on separating the wet, heavy clothing that cemented itself to Atobe's skin, peeling back layers as if performing a surgery (though with much less gentility). Atobe was stiff, but too exhausted to resist, and soon Oishi had sloppily removed most of the fabric that clung to his chest. He did it silently, in concentration, and while trying not to look panicked. A moment later he’d replaced the wet clothes with his own, draping them loosely about Atobe’s shoulders.
"Try to breathe through your nose, it'll keep you warmer."
If anything, it was the near comatose obedience with which Atobe allowed himself to be handled that is the most disturbing element of his current appearance. After only a token protest, his guard has been buffeted to such a degree that there was seemingly not much fight left in him. Whilst the padded jacket, still infused with lingering warmth provided by its owner came as a relief Atobe's posture still remained brittle, and it took several minutes before the shallow snatches of his breathing began to slow. Even then he did nothing that could be called characteristic - there were no carefully crafted insults, or self-satisfied looks being thrown Oishi's way.
The longer Atobe remained deathly quiet and scarcely moving, the more Oishi wanted to make a mad dash for the nurses' station, or toward any number of faculty better equipped to handle sick and severely injured students than he was, but the risks of abandoning him to the elements in his current state (even for a few short moments) to find that someone far outweighed the potential benefits, so he stood there. Eventually he settled in beside him. A shiver coursed through him, having been left in little more than a thin t-shirt now, and he reached to sweep his arm over the curve of Atobe's back to build friction.
"We really have to get you inside."
The last thing Atobe wanted, even when his head was a muddle of contradictions, was to let more than someone as easily silenced as Oishi see him at his lowest ebb. Not that he was currently capable of concocting any kind of formula to keep the other student quiet about his odd behavior. Many of his jumbled thoughts were occupied by the need to just. stop. shaking. An act which left him light-headed and pallid when he gradually began to sit up and opened his eyes. "......"
Each attempt Atobe made to right himself only threw Oishi off more-- from the incapacitating shivering to his weary, lifeless eyes that were conveying more pain than Oishi was ever qualified to care for on his own. He swallowed the dry, cold-air lump in his throat and chewed his lip, continuing to work his hand over Atobe's back, and having put aside whatever ire he had for the man several minutes ago in favor of assuring he didn't exhaust himself, hyperventilate, or even die out here.
Glancing up, he debated a path that would lead them indoors. "I'll take you. A-as quick as I can. Once you're inside, you'll improve much faster." Of course doing such things with the time paused, he didn't exactly need permission, but he felt it necessary to ask, "Just, nod if that's all right?"
Atobe had a vague recollection of Oishi's powers being related to the passage of time, a notion which somehow loosened to tight hold with which his fears of being discovered had ensnared what little was left of his senses to be toyed with. The warm passage of a hand massaging circles across his back further roused him enough to do as Oishi asked for the time being. The nod was followed by making himself pliant enough to be helped to his feet. If he was aware of the dragging sensation of time slowing to a crawl around them then he made no indication that it disturbed or intrigued him as it would were he fully conscious of his actions. Instead his hunched over self shivered silently beside Oishi.
Once he was up on his feet, Oishi figured there was no good reason to have Atobe suffering anymore than he needed to, and slipped himself into a fold in time that would seem instantaneous to everyone else. By the time Atobe came to again, they were standing in the doorway, his body slumped against Oishi's exhausted frame, having expended nearly all his resources both summoning his power and carrying his weight.
The air was noticeably warmer, and Oishi let his classmate down on one of the sofas in the dormitory lounge.
"There. I… I can find you something warm to drink, if you need it." Oishi was willing to try just about anything at this point to alleviate what was a frankly frightening sight.
Another tiny nod was all Atobe seemed capable of providing in terms of a coherent response. He remained where Oishi so gently deposited him, face now buried in the crook of one arm, and the jacket tucked over his shoulders splayed out to disguise much of his lingering trembles. As the lukewarmth of the room seeped into his pallid skin it didn't gain any color but nor did it take on the disturbing blue tinge that overexertion tended to lend it during times of stress. When Oishi returned, he was still curled over onto his side, but had at least found the strength to push away the dampened streaks of hair from his face.
Oishi chewed practically through his lip upon his return with a hot poptop can of soup from a nearby machine. He cracked it open, setting it in Atobe's hand and helping to curl his fingers around it. Seeing such a bizarre, inhuman pigment on someone's skin wasn't new, considering their classmates, but it was new on Atobe-- an unnaturally, sickly color that made the rest of his skin look all the more pale and ill. He sat beside him silently so long as he might have needed something, and tried to look as casual and not put-out by the endeavor as possible (despite the fact that his body ached as if he'd just done a lap around campus.)
"I didn't know the weather affected you like this. In fact, I would think cold weather would be…" Oishi trailed, sighing, "If there's someone I need to contact about this…"
Atobe's fingers felt brittle and frozen to the touch at first, but little by little the presence of the warm can between them brought at least a hint of color back into his features. He was never particularly dark to begin with, but at least by the time he'd sipped away half of the soothingly bland contents he was looking less liable to keel over at any given second. His bedraggled self remained quiet for a few minutes, more than long enough to lure Oishi into thinking that he was not about to provide an answer. Then a shaken murmur came tumbling out, "....kuwahara.."
His shoulders slumped as that lack of answer hung heavily in the air between them. Oishi was halfway ready to find the nearest phone and dial an emergency number… though, given the student's abilities and the potential for the abuse of authority by ill-intentioned non-mutants, he forewent the decision just in time to hear his quiet admission. "Eh? Kuwa-- Jackal?" Without any indication he'd heard incorrectly, Oishi rose to his feet with a small groan.
Logically, if someone were needed to warm up a student with the power of ice, it would have to be another with the power of fire, he supposed. Oishi nodded anxiously, filling the space as he climbed around the couch and toward the stairwell with hurried assurances he'd find the other student's roommate. Eventually, after a quick jostle of his mind remembering room numbers, he found himself in front of their shared dorm, knocking a bit roughly. "Kuwahara? Are you in?"
Jackal was well aware of the rain going on outside. It was precisely why he was staying in, doing homework, and behaving by keeping to his promise to Atobe to not practice his fire while in their room. The hurried knock caught his attention, and he got up, heading to the door. "Yeah? Oh, hey, Oishi," he smiled, recognizing the other student. "What brings you here?"
It would be impossible to hide the panicked, wide-eyed look he gave Jackal once that door swung open, catching his breath and furrowing his brow. “I need your help,” Unusually impolite and direct for Oishi, though he hoped given the circumstances it could be forgiven. “Atobe’s not well,” Or at least, that was as best as he could explain a thing like this. “Can you come with me? He asked specifically for you.” And for something Oishi hoped Jackal understood more than he did.
Jackal blinked. Now that was weird. Atobe usually avoided him like the plague. Why on earth would he be asking for him? Unless.... " 'Course. Can't let the ice queen down now, can we?" he chuckled, using the nickname in the fondest possible way...because even if Atobe tried his damnedest to keep Jackal away, Jackal actually kinda liked the guy. "Lead the way."
The soup was exhausted by the time the others arrived back in the otherwise deserted dormitory lounge. Atobe had left the empty container, discarded it upon a low table set into the corner beside the sofa. Although he hadn’t resumed his former position, bunched up into a pitiful origami amongst the spill of cushions which sat in a plump little row at his back; he was still somewhat wilted against the arm of it. When the density of warmth residing beneath Oishi’s jacket (and the added layer of his sweatshirt as well), had become too much to bear he’d pushed both aside - leaving him clad in only the damp second skin of his own ruined attire. That was how the pair of them would find him upon their eventual return.
Needless to say Oishi was relieved that, with only the vaguest suggestion, Jackal appeared to have reached an understanding of their current situation. (Though he did have to resist the urge to stop and shake some sense into him about just how dire a sight their ‘ice queen’ currently was.) An exasperated sigh and a pair of hands framed his hips when the pair of them arrived downstairs, and Atobe had curled quietly in on himself again. “He was out in the rain, looking worse than he does now.” Hesitantly, his green eyes drew up against Jackal’s expression, “I assume this isn’t... new?”
Jackal just shook his head at the sight. Really. Part of having powers that affected your body and potentially your health was knowing how to survive them. Why on earth would a guy who shivered at night let himself get soaked in the rain? "Well. New to me. But it's alright. I'll figure something out......." He trailed off as he thought. First things first. He'd have to get Atobe back up to their room, and he certainly didn't look in a state to be walking.
Walking to the sofa, Jackal knelt down in front of Atobe. "You called?" he grinned.
At first it seemed as though the former heir was so lost in contemplation, or perhaps merely the act of keeping himself conscious that Jackal’s presence wasn’t quite bold enough to make its way past his own brittle state. His gaze, normally so vital and alive with the extremities of a sharp mind was now glazed and slow to focus. Eventually it made its way to settling on Jackal’s upturned face, and a weak source of comprehension drip-fed itself into existence.
“......you came.”
Jackal couldn't help his grin growing at the other possible ways that could be taken, even if that wasn't part of his relationship with Atobe. "Well. It'd look bad if I let my roommate catch his death, now, wouldn't it?" He put a hand on Atobe's forehead, and decided the guy felt even colder than usual. "...We gotta get you up to the room," he remarked, and without any warning, he moved smoothly in what started out as a lunge, and ended in him standing, with a dripping wet Atobe slung over his shoulder.
Before Oishi could volunteer to help carry him, Jackal had predictably taken the quick and easy route, leaving him to gather up the sopping wet pile of discarded clothing on the sofa-- leaving a rather suspicious puddle in its wake. “So... you’re sure he’ll be all right then?” If this was something fairly typical for those with temperature-based abilities, Oishi hadn’t had enough exposure to realize it. Right now he was too busy trying to choke his heart back down his throat and gently reminding himself that one of his fellow students wasn’t going to suddenly drop dead tonight. “It’s under control?”
Jackal had one arm around Atobe for support, just to make sure the guy didn't slide around anywhere. The free hand, he set on Oishi's shoulder. "I think so. But I promise you this. If I can't get him looking and feeling better in an hour, I'll call the professionals. No matter what, I'll make sure he's taken care of. And I'll keep you posted, let you know how he's doing." And Jackal meant it. Atobe had his pride; Jackal knew that meant he'd want as few people knowing about this as possible. So he would give him that chance...but not at the cost of his life. If he couldn't do it, then pride be damned, he'd wake the entire school if he had to.
Looking reluctantly relieved of his self-imposed duties, Oishi met Jackal’s eyes and gave a singular nod, “Ah, I appreciate it. Thank you.” One less thing to worry about around here. Oishi cleaned up the last of the mess they’d left all over the rain-soaked lobby and retreated upstairs to sleep off the exhaustion in his muscles that were currently making him feel as if he’d been pulled through the ringer. It’d be a wonder if he woke up on time tomorrow at all.
Jackal headed up to their room as quickly as he could, with Atobe's added weight. Once inside, with the door closed and bolted, he sat Atobe down on the foot of his own bed. "Now to get you out of those wet things and into something dry," he said aloud, though more to himself than actually to Atobe. "Don't need you shivering at me if we can avoid it."
With something warm inside of him Atobe was a few degrees less useless than he’d been for the last half hour or so. Though fingers and thumbs were all his help really amounted to, between them at least the first layer (another one of those deceptively expensive cardigans) was peeled away to reveal the translucent cotton of the shirt lurking beneath it. Head hung, and breathing tenuous at best, the mansion’s resident catalyst looked worn down; too distant from his divisive personality for either of their likings. His clumsy fingertips made a chore of the top button to that sodden shirt, fumbling once, twice, and again to find some form of purchase upon it.
"Tsk. Here. Let me." Under any other circumstances, Jackal would have taken his time, made a game out of peeling of another person's clothing. But with Atobe in that current state, he couldn't afford the extra time. That, and he wasn't the kind of guy to take advantage of someone when they were practically catatonic. One by one, he popped the buttons and stripped off Atobe's shirt, replacing it by wrapping the comforter of Atobe's bed around the pale guy's shoulders. Then, he moved onto Atobe's pants, making quick work of them, as well.
This kind of attentive care wasn’t something which had ever been bestowed upon Atobe. That was, unless the carers, like the nannies of his child-hood, the teachers of adolescence, and the playmates from his teenage years were being duly compensated with hard cash in exchange for their time. A head full of bitter memories kept him docile for the time being, at least until he surfaced from their depths to find himself half naked upon the end of a familiar bed.
One by one the minute hurts which littered his body came together to form a bruised whole, and he winced; aware enough to at least attempt to disguise another tangible weakness from Jackal’s sight, “.....why are you doing this?” The whisper was rhetoric, almost intended solely for Atobe himself.
Jackal blinked, pausing with Atobe's pants around the knees, and glanced up. "Well, you don't seem to be in proper condition to do it yourself....so somebody's gotta," he answered with a shrug as he gave a last tug to get Atobe's pants down and off. "We should get your shorts off, too, you know. Though if you'd prefer to do that part yourself, I'd understand." He knew enough of how Atobe kept his clothes to busy himself finding a dry set of clothes for him in the meantime.
Ensconced within the thick folds of the comforter with its familiar scent of off-brand fabric softener and soap powder, Atobe took several minutes to catch up to the agenda. By the time Jackal turned back around, having dug through the ridiculously large assortment of designer goods contained within Atobe’s wardrobe; the other had somehow worked himself out of his underwear.
With his defenses down, and concentration not exactly at an all time high, even though he’d managed to end up with the remainder of the thin duvet draped across his modesty, it still left little to the imagination in other respects.
When Jackal did turn back around, he couldn't help taking a moment to enjoy the view, even if it was under unfortunate circumstances. He was only human, after all. But fortunately, he did have his priorities in line, and no matter how attractive Atobe was, his health came first. "So. Gonna tell me what you were doing out in that storm?" he asked, handing Atobe a clean pair of underpants to put on. While Atobe did that, Jackal worked on towel-drying Atobe's hair, figuring a hair dryer (if Atobe even owned one, because Jackal sure didn't) would be too much heat.
With at least some semblance of clothing returned to him, Atobe’s dismal posture began to slowly unfurl. It was more of a case of needing something to act as support for his weary frame than being consciously aware of seeking out Jackal’s warmth. As it was, he maintained an air of blissful ignorance when it came to the nightly arrangement Jackal had discreetly instituted to alleviate a measure of the restlessness from their nightly routine. This time, as his back came into contact with the firm plain of Jackal’s chest what sounded suspiciously like a sigh of relief exited Keigo’s lips, “......I was...was looking for something...”
Jackal arched an eyebrow when Atobe leaned back against him. To his knowledge, Atobe didn't know about the fact that Jackal had been climbing into bed with him to keep him from shivering at night, and during the day, Atobe even went out of his way to avoid coming into physical contact with Jackal. This...was definitely a first. "What in the world could be so important that you'd do that to yourself? That's like me deciding to go swim in an ocean all of a sudden. It just doesn't happen." With Atobe's hair mostly dry, Jackal tossed the towel aside and set the pair of pants onto Atobe's lap, while he set about putting a dry shirt onto the man himself.
For a while after Jackal had clad him in a fresh shirt, Atobe merely neglected to acknowledge the presence of the loose trousers where they sat folded into a precise square upon his lap. Instead, he focused all of his dwindling energy into bringing his breathing to an even crawl, and to sorting out the cacophony of thoughts inside his head into something resembling order. They shuffled reluctantly into place, but still the sodden journey back to the mansion had left its mark upon his ability to do much more than accept a lot of what was going on around him. Jackal’s bewildered queries were met with little more than a murmured, “....doesn’t matter.” Accompanied by the sensation of the senior clumsily finding his way into those forgotten garments.
"It does matter," Jackal stated simply, waiting until Atobe was fully dressed before moving to shift the guy properly into his bed. Then, he settled in beside Atobe, with just the right amount of space between them. It had taken nights of trial and error - too close and Atobe got too hot, too far and Jackal's higher body heat didn't reach him well enough to stop the shivers - but he'd finally found it. That distance where Atobe wouldn't shiver anymore, but wasn't uncomfortably warm. "....Atobe. If Oishi hadn't gotten you, you could've ended up with pneumonia, or frozen to death or something. There's little in this world that's worth dying over....so it had to be important." Jackal crossed his arms behind his own head, lying down. "You can tell me. I won't tell anyone."
Trust wasn’t something which came easily to Atobe - it hadn’t long before his family had cast him out, daubed black and tainted by the powers which would make a mockery of their legacy should they come to light. It still didn’t, in a school where the very mention of his surname provoked water-cooler gossip and preconceptions which weren’t exactly helped by the vigorousness with which he defended those last vestiges of an entitled upbringing. If the student body wanted a glorious elite towards whom they could direct their adoration (or scorn) then Atobe wasn’t going to go about giving one to them in a half-hearted fashion.
However, lying within the four corners of a bed which resided within the equally secure four walls of their room his public persona lost some of its grip. There were a thousand places to lay the blame for his candor; exhaustion, the temperature, Jackal himself. Yet, Atobe pushed them all aside and simply spoke without pretense, and with his dull-eyed gaze directed towards the sheets, “....you’ll think I’m losing my mind.”
Jackal grinned a little at that. "Honey, I hate to tell you this, but I'm already convinced everybody in this place - including the two of us - is completely batshit in one way or another. Telling me can't possibly do any more harm than the years I've been here already have." He rolled to his side, facing Atobe, but careful to keep that perfect distance. "And I've already promised I won't tell. I think if you've learned anything about me so far this term, it's that when I promise, I mean it."
It was true, that Jackal had given him little reason to believe he spoke with less than complete honesty. If nothing else, Atobe prided himself on understanding tells, and how to spot a fake from enough of a distance to either out fox them, or steer well clear. He’d spend the next few days spreading the blame around, but for now beneath the relief of dry sheets, and with Jackal radiating a calming warmth which seeped bone-deep to wash away the memories of that incessant chill - he too uttered a few truthful syllables, “.....answers. I was looking for....for a reason to stay here.”
Jackal hummed a little, both surprised and curious. "And you decided you had to go out in the rain for that. ...I'm pretty sure...raindrops don't have mouths. Or brains. Even if they are evil," he grinned, unable to resist the tiny bit of teasing. It was Atobe, after all. It'd be weird if there was absolutely no teasing in a conversation. "But you know...in all seriousness...You have reasons to stay. If they're not good enough...make new ones. They won't just fall in your lap."
For all the grief he’d put himself (and to a lesser extent both Oishi and Jackal) through during the evening there was something strangely comfortable about giving in to a weird blend of humor and simply spoken advice. Letting his lips form a subtle ghost of a smile; one of those rare expressions which wasn’t clouded by spite or self-satisfaction; was far easier than he’d assumed it might be. It took a while, but eventually his gaze picked itself up, inch by inch until it met with the amusement in Jackal’s own, “.....peculiar as ever, but....you may have a point.”
"Of course I do," Jackal smiled, something more real than his usual grin. Atobe was actually smiling. "I might not always act like the smartest guy around, but I've at least got some common sense floating around in here," he remarked, tapping his own temple. "And...I know this is totally off-topic, but I gotta say it. ....You should smile more. You're much more attractive that way."
For once it wasn’t a lewd retort or a pitying back-hander which sprung to mind when Jackal offered him what felt like a genuine compliment. Since an early age Atobe had become desensitized to being told he was beautiful, talented, and unique. Yet to be appreciated for something as simple as merely smiling (and actually meaning it) was another thing entirely. Blind-sided in a way he hadn’t been for much of his life, it took a few seconds before he let his lips quirk once more, “.....that’s something else you need to keep to yourself.”
Jackal's smile grew, into a more honest version of his usual grin. "Well. It's not like I was saying I wanna get in your pants," he teased. He had thought about it, though, a time or two, and...probably would again, after that glimpse he'd had earlier, but Atobe didn't need to know that. "But once again, teasing aside...You really should smile more. That's the first step in making friends with people. Just a simple, little smile, as opposed to a serious, stern, 'don't even think about talking to me' kind of face." And of course, Jackal's own face made an impression of one of Atobe's usual expressions, the kind that tended to chase people away. "Somebody looking like this doesn't exactly encourage camaraderie."
“You look like a disgruntled egg...” This estimation at least brought a hint of humor back into Atobe’s weary expression. As worn down as he seemed to be, the slow suffusing of tepid warmth back into his trembling body along with Jackal’s casual care appeared to be working small miracles. He shifted, lying upon his side in a less guarded posture; from this position he could watch Jackal as he chuckled, and it took him a few moments to realise the gentle laughter which threaded with that of his room-mate was stemming from himself.
The huffiness which followed was far too gentle to be regarded as a proper threat, that and the fact that Atobe was making some kind of effort to keep the usual disdain from his face in favor of something which suggested that maybe they were making some progress towards being more than civil towards each other, “...you...damn egg, making me laugh so easily. I should have you removed.”
Jackal smiled a little bit. So there really was a softer side to Atobe, deep down in there somewhere. He'd suspected as much, after so many nights of sleeping next to the guy, but this was the first time he'd seen signs of it when his icy roommate was awake. "I'm not a wart, Atobe. You can't 'have me removed' that easily." He reached over and poked Atobe's nose, just to get a reaction from him. "Think of me kinda like a phoenix. Just when you think you've got me snuffed out, I'm gonna rise up from the ashes, good as new," he winked.
The sudden tap of a warm fingertip against the tip of his nose caused it to wrinkle, and Atobe squeezed his eyes shut for an instant before opening them once more only to fix Jackal with his best pout. Maybe it was the dense relief of being lukewarm, dry and secure once again, or maybe the privacy of it just being the two of them were to blame, but at least for now his guard was down in a different way. A less damaging one to when Oishi had found him; half drowned from the rain and sodden with confliction.
Without thinking his fingers reached out to give Jackal the lightest of little shoves to his shoulder, “Should have you stuffed and mounted then. If you’re some damn fire bird.”
Jackal couldn't help a hearty laugh. Atobe was being positively adorable, in his own way. "Mm...you could try, but don't you think it'd be weird, being stared at all day and night?" he asked, grinning for a moment before straightening his face, widening his eyes, and leaning in, not even blinking as he stared straight at Atobe.
True to his usual form, Atobe proved that he was feeling better by holding Jackal’s unwavering gaze without flinching or so much as blinking. He shrugged his shoulders, “I’m used to it already.” After all, his exotic good looks were enough to have made him the center of attention when he was a child, and although there were plenty of equally attractive and unusual students living in the mansion - somehow he still managed to draw interest even when he was doing the most mundane of things.
"Oh yeah?" Jackal challenged, still not wavering. "Even when that gaze is watching you while you sleep? While you bathe? While you're sitting on the toilet taking a crap? Being watched everyday is one thing. But those are private, personal moments. I wouldn't want someone watching me take a crap." The other two he could probably handle. Bathing, especially, well...he'd probably just tell his spectator to come on in and join him.
“You’re so uncouth!” Luckily for Jackal, Atobe was smiling even as his curled fingers batted the other against his chest as a gentle form of scolding. However, his words had been rather enlightening, and in his relieved and recovering state, Keigo couldn’t help but interrogate him, “Hm, haven’t you been watching me?” He delivered the question as if its answer was already determined.
Jackal just grinned even more. "I'm just honest," he remarked with a shrug, catching Atobe's wrist in his hand simply because he could. "But as for that...You're my roommate. I can't not watch you, when you're here. You're kind of hard to ignore, as it turns out, walking around like a peacock showing off those tail feathers."
Without his careful styling and designer wardrobe, Atobe looked a far cry from the usual preened persona he paraded about the halls of the mansion. His silvery gray hair feathered softly around his cheeks now that it was dry, and the plain nature of his clothing was like nothing he’d usually choose to wear - not even in private. He couldn’t deny that commoner garb was rather comfortable, at least for lounging around on a bed. A tiny hmmph of derision passed between them, and he tucked several of those silver-gray strands behind one elfin ear, “I can’t help it if my lineage produced such a gorgeous result.”
"Mmhm, see, that's exactly what I'm talking about. Shake those tail feathers~" Jackal teased, though behind the lighthearted words, he was serious. Even disheveled and in normal clothing, even after being soaked to the core and having two people worried about him, Atobe somehow still had this air of elegance and pride to him. Perhaps he'd been royalty in a past life. Hell, for all Jackal knew, maybe he was in this one.
“Hah, if anyone looks flashy it’s you.” It was true that Jackal stood out in his own way - being bold enough to go for such a (lack of a) hairstyle, accompanied by the rich hue of his skin. Considering how pale Atobe’s own skin was, he only stood out further even in the soft illumination stemming from the bedside lamp. Having sought to avoid him out of trepidation over their conflicting powers, and a sense of duty as someone who was supposed to consider himself above all others, Atobe hadn’t taken the chance to properly study his room-mate’s equally as exotic aesthetics. He did so now, without a hint of shame, “An egg, but....a decent looking one at least.”
It didn't bother Jackal to be studied like that. Like Atobe, he was used to being looked at. He knew his skin stood out in a crowd, and that it was rare to go hairless in a country like this. But there were perks, too. It got him attention he might not normally get. And of course, he always liked the contrast between his own skin tone and the lighter one of whoever he happened to take to bed... Of course, it was a good thing he liked it, because that's all he'd get short of going back to Brazil. Or like, Africa, or America, or someplace more diverse like that. "Better than decent. I'm one of a kind," he winked. "They broke the mold when they made me."
The faint sauciness of Jackal’s idiosyncrasies didn’t escape Atobe in the slightest. There was something so natural about it that Keigo simply let himself enjoy their banter without constantly keeping his social standing in mind. Chuckling softly, he lay back against the mound of yielding pillows behind his head to look up at his room mate. Maybe this sharing thing wouldn’t be so terrible after all, “....ahn, did they now?”
Jackal settled back into the comfortable distance...or maybe just a tiny bit closer. He didn't want to overheat Atobe, still. "Well. Given my power, maybe it's more like I melted whatever it is they molded me out of. Either way, they couldn't make another just like me." He let himself look Atobe over, simply for the novelty of it. "Bet they couldn't make another of you either, though," he smiled, glad Atobe was relaxing.
Keigo scoffed with a little less conviction than usual, “Of course not.” He could feel the curious rake of Jackal’s gaze, and didn’t feel worse because of it. If anything just having a normal conversation with someone made a change from listening with half an ear as some member of the faculty attempted to scold him, or the lewd murmurings exchanged between himself and a certain teacher, “We’re all special little snowflakes...”
"Speak for yourself, ice cube. I'm a special little flame. No other flickers like I do," Jackal smirked, and just because he could, he sparked a small flame on one of his candles in the room. Okay, so it could've been risky, given the difficulty he'd had with control, but this was also the one candle he'd never had a problem lighting on his own....and between his own fire extinguisher and Atobe's powers, he wasn't too worried... But there was no need for concern. The little flame lit and burned, just as if it'd been lit with a match.
“Shall have to call you phoenix from now on, hm?” Even as his gaze drifted in the direction of the sudden spark of heat and flickering light, Atobe raised a languid arm. The sharp snap of his fingers coincided with the flame’s abrupt death as it found itself turned to frosted ice in a beautiful instant.
Jackal pouted, and even shivered briefly, when his flame was frozen. "So mean to me." It felt a little like a challenge, though, and Jackal was so extremely tempted to sit up and focus, create a flame from within that ice that would melt it from the inside out, strong enough not to be doused by the water.... But. That did require focus, and attention, and a total shift of the mood they had. Given how rare it was, he was ill-inclined to lose it. "Just as long as you don't go calling me by anything cold or wet, I don't much care what you do call me," he admitted with a shrug.
That minor demonstration of their oppositional powers was about all Atobe could be bothered to do. Lowering his arm, he draped it across his own waist only to roll back over to face Jackal once more, “Don’t tempt me.” Even if it was muted in comparison to the usual wicked nature of the heir’s smile, playfulness still toyed with the corners of his lips. Jackal’s practical care, and the mild warmth of the bed seemed to be doing wonders for his fractured mood.
"Mm...so even you can be tempted after all," Jackal grinned. "Good to know, good to know..." He stored that little tidbit for later. Never know when it might come in handy. "What else can you be tempted into, hm? Just how human are you really?" It was an honest, curious question. Atobe always seemed as cold as the ice he controlled, and not just physically. But Jackal was beginning to see there was a little warmth in there after all, thanks to this.
“Probably more human than I wish I was.” Even if his lips were still colored by the smallest of smiles, there was something like pain reflected in his gaze for a brief instant before it was pushed back down again. He shook his head, almost chastising himself for becoming sentimental at a time when he should’ve been focusing on finding ways to make Jackal (and to a lesser extent Oishi) forget about ever having seen his more damaged side.
The way Atobe said that, the sentence weighed heavily on Jackal's mind. Like there really was a lot more to Atobe than he let on... "I think we all have moments like that. Where it feels like we're too soft to handle all the crap thrown at us. But...Someone I know used to always say that we're never given more than we can handle, no matter how impossible it seems to be." He glanced over. "I try to remember that, when it feels like too much."
Now that he’d had some time to calm down, to put things back into perspective in ways keeping everything buried hadn’t allowed him to before, Keigo could actually take some of Jackal’s words to heart. Normally, he’d have brushed them aside as the vapid sentiment of someone who’d never known true hardship, but given that he was (relatively) healthy, safe, and gifted in his own way whining on after this brief slip up would only have made him seem to be as highly strung and petty as his public image seemed to suggest.
In the wan half-light of their room, with only Jackal for company it felt a little less of a betrayal to let himself relax, to stop trying so damn hard to be the elite that his lineage had formed him into, only to throw him away when that status was tainted. So he smiled, a little more than he’d ever let himself without it being laced with sarcasm or wickedness, “Rest assured you won’t have to be taking care of me like this again. I suppose I might’ve learned something at least....”
Jackal smiled. "You know, it'd be alright if I did." He was flattered, really, that of all the people Atobe could've asked for, he'd asked for him. He wasn't entirely sure what it meant - maybe he asked only for the warmth, maybe for something else - but he was alright with it. He'd gotten to know his roommate a little better. "It'd also be alright with me if...you know. You ever have something you want to talk about. I'm a pretty good listener, and...not to toot my own horn, but...I've been told I give pretty good advice." Just...putting it out there. Atobe might never take him up on it, but hey. The offer would still stand.
Jackal’s words and the wave of sincerity which Atobe felt rolling off of him as they were spoken were enough to convince him that maybe rooming with someone whose powers commanded such an opposition to his own might not be so terrible after all. Maybe he wouldn’t stop using archaic curse words, or describing Jackal as ‘that exotic scoundrel’, but at least in the privacy of their own space there wouldn’t be that air of tension any longer.
Still smiling faintly, he inclined his head just enough to let Jackal know he’d acknowledged his offer, appreciated it even. As worn out as he was, Atobe was never above continuing to tease and play once he’d accepted someone as a friend, “Hmm, maybe you’re not so bad afterall, Jackal-kun.”
Jackal had the urge to grin and tease, to say something along the lines of 'I could've told you that' or 'well, of course not'....but...this was a good moment. For probably the first time since they'd been living together, there seemed to be an understanding between them, and there was no reason to push his limits too much. So instead, Jackal just smiled. "You're not so bad yourself, Atobe."
The subtle warmth of the bed, and Jackal’s close proximity were getting to Keigo again, and he buried down a little further beneath the covers. Whether Jackal chose to remain by his side was left open for the other student to decide, “Of course, I’m not....”
Jackal didn't see a particular need to move, if Atobe wasn't kicking him out of bed. He was actually a bit worried. Even though Atobe seemed fine, now, he did have that tendency to be freezing cold at night when he slept...so if Atobe wasn't going to make him leave, he wasn't going to. ...Of course, even if Atobe did make him leave, Jackal would probably just end up right where he'd started from, after Atobe fell asleep.
For now, though, he just smiled and kept his thoughts to himself, watching Atobe out of the corner of his eye. The other seemed sleepy...
It took only a matter of minutes before Keigo lapsed into a shallow doze. In sleep his body sought out the familiar warmth lying beside him, and soon enough he’d snuggled up to Jackal’s side of his own slumbering volition. Wrapped in the cocoon of soothing rest, he looked unburdened by his highly-strung nature; even if his body still shivered for some time after nestling next to Jackal beneath the covers.
Jackal was careful not to wake him as he shifted, just enough to pull out his phone and send Oishi a message that Atobe was going to be alright, as he'd promised he would. That done, he settled in. He usually tried not to let himself get caught when he warmed Atobe's bed, but...just this once, it'd be alright, since Atobe knew he was there before he'd fallen asleep. Besides...it was too comfortable, and Jackal always did like snuggling somebody.
Location: General campus, Atobe and Jackal’s dorm
Time: October 16th (Monday)
Rating: PG
Summary: Oishi finds a stray Atobe in the rain, Jackal adopts him.
The rain, which had begun as a deceptive mist was now coming down with vigor. Creating blotches as it bounced against the cobbles of the courtyard and rendered the grass sodden and slippery. No one with any semblance of sense was beyond the warm confines of the mansion. However, Atobe had a tendency to leave sense at the front door in some respects - Jackal's incessant nudity and the threat of detention had driven him down to the boat house. It was upon his return that he got caught up in a burgeoning storm with little in the way of protection from it.
Yet another sneeze caused Oishi's shoulders to jump and a brief shiver to vibrate down his back with the cold. Their heating system was only so powerful against the chilling cold constantly creeping in, and by the third wave of dark clouds that rolled in, it was all it could do to chug loudly away in the hallway as if it was breathing its last breath. Outside, the torrential downpour currently wreaking havoc on their grounds obscured the night in a thick fog, dampening any view more than a hundred meters out. Reaching for another tissue, a figure briefly caught his eye at the window-- though he came very close to ignoring it for fear he might be seeing things. Just who would be outside in a storm like this? But the longer he stared, the more the sad slumped silhouette in the distance became something he could no longer ignore. Without much thought, he grabbed his umbrella and headed quickly downstairs. Pausing time momentarily, he was able to save whatever poor soggy soul was out here at least a few brief minutes of water, even if it meant having to smack frozen droplets out of his pathway to get to him. Sighing when his identity came into view, Oishi only shook his head-- figuring he'd already come this far. "Atobe." To anyone else, it might have looked like Oishi materialized out of thin air, an umbrella over Atobe's head. "Do you need a hand?"
Quite far from his usual immaculate self, this Atobe was drenched almost beyond recognition. His silvery gray hair plastered to his nape and spiralling droplets of water from the fringe which obscured his cyan eyes.The designer clothing he seemed to be perpetually clad in was equally as sodden and clung to every inch of his slender frame like a second skin. The shivering he usually managed to keep in check was uncontrollable when confronted by such inhospitable weather; it caused his shoulders to quake and teeth to chatter no matter how much of that iron will of his he tried to divert into disguising both pitiful side-effects. At first he only seemed dimly aware that the rain has stopped lashing down upon him, and even when Oishi's presence makes itself known he just stood there, hugging both arms around his waist with his head down. "....g-go--go back i-inside."
Having had a sufficient amount of time to look the drenched mess that was currently Atobe over, (amidst dodging suspended raindrops), Oishi couldn't help but notice the bleak contrast between the prim and fiercely-decorated persona Atobe so often put forth, and what stood (barely) before him now-- looking more like a half-drowned animal desperately trying to stay afloat in the mouth of a storm drain. The cold was harsh to be sure, but not entirely unbearable, so it was either that Atobe had been stuck out here far longer than it should ever take to retreat back into the Mansion, or there was something far more serious at play here. Oishi avoided asking, standing silently in place and allowing the umbrella above them shield the other man just a little while longer. There was no logical reason why he would desire to be miserably sopped out here, but pointing out this weakness or lapse in character to someone who was otherwise so image-conscious seemed at best a poor choice, and at worst a personal jab. "It doesn't look like it's going to let up any time soon." Oishi gave a little tilt of his head, "At least let me walk you under the awning."
Atobe at least acquiesced to Oishi's subtle urging in that single respect. His footsteps dragged, but eventually using the shade of the umbrella as a lure of sorts, Oishi was able to guide him towards the shelter of the awning. It provided little in the way of warmth, but at least the space beneath it - which contained a wide wooden bench is dry and safe from the clattering downpour. Once sat down, the heir bent almost double, fighting a silent war between the impulses of his body, and the turbulence inside his head.
During their brief but painfully-delayed walk over, Oishi takes notice of the stilted steps, the unbalanced posture, and the grimaces behind his teeth. Though it could have very well been caused by exhaustion, dependent on what on earth he'd been doing out in this weather this late at night, the way Atobe staggered just to lower himself to sit, and the way he immediately crumpled in on himself once off of his feet clued Oishi in to the fact that this wasn't simply a typical reaction to the lower temperatures lately.
And when Atobe doubled over like a clenched fist, Oishi's umbrella clattered to the ground in surprise. "Are you--" all right, was how he'd meant to end that trailed question-- the answer seeming too blindingly obvious to continue. Instead he knelt down in front of him, trying to get a read on his face. "Do you… I mean, what's wrong? Can I get you something?"
The journey back had been made significantly longer by the fact that Atobe had been hanging around the secluded clearing he favored when it came to avoiding classes. With every step he'd taken the saturation of rain clogging up his clothes and smearing its chilled fingerprints all over every inch of exposed skin had made it harder to concentrate. He'd gotten turned around within the trees, and it was only a vague sense of humanity, of moods which called out to him which led to the path he stumbled onto being the correct one. Doubled over to his waist, his face is barely visible behind a wave of tousled, dripping strands of hair, but what little of it can be seen is creased with a rawer kind of emotion than Atobe's shown in all the years he's been languishing within the mansion. Those intense blue eyes of his are squeezed tightly shut, and each breath rattles around in his chest, exiting as a clipped gasp.
Oishi knew something had to be up when he didn't immediately get a sarcastic or condescending answer snapped back at him, and instead received a deafening silence. Freezing stiffly in place, he stared helplessly over the shaking, broken young man buckled in front of him-- the hands that had been holding his umbrella now open without purpose in front of his body. He stepped forward, then back, then forward again-- doing what could best be described as the world's smallest pace under the small allowance of that awning, and trying to work out what could be done for him with what little Oishi had. Firstly…
He hurriedly unzipped the thick jacket he'd clad around his own shoulders earlier tonight, following up with the sweatshirt he'd layered underneath and tugging them roughly from his back. For now he draped them across the bench and got to work on separating the wet, heavy clothing that cemented itself to Atobe's skin, peeling back layers as if performing a surgery (though with much less gentility). Atobe was stiff, but too exhausted to resist, and soon Oishi had sloppily removed most of the fabric that clung to his chest. He did it silently, in concentration, and while trying not to look panicked. A moment later he’d replaced the wet clothes with his own, draping them loosely about Atobe’s shoulders.
"Try to breathe through your nose, it'll keep you warmer."
If anything, it was the near comatose obedience with which Atobe allowed himself to be handled that is the most disturbing element of his current appearance. After only a token protest, his guard has been buffeted to such a degree that there was seemingly not much fight left in him. Whilst the padded jacket, still infused with lingering warmth provided by its owner came as a relief Atobe's posture still remained brittle, and it took several minutes before the shallow snatches of his breathing began to slow. Even then he did nothing that could be called characteristic - there were no carefully crafted insults, or self-satisfied looks being thrown Oishi's way.
The longer Atobe remained deathly quiet and scarcely moving, the more Oishi wanted to make a mad dash for the nurses' station, or toward any number of faculty better equipped to handle sick and severely injured students than he was, but the risks of abandoning him to the elements in his current state (even for a few short moments) to find that someone far outweighed the potential benefits, so he stood there. Eventually he settled in beside him. A shiver coursed through him, having been left in little more than a thin t-shirt now, and he reached to sweep his arm over the curve of Atobe's back to build friction.
"We really have to get you inside."
The last thing Atobe wanted, even when his head was a muddle of contradictions, was to let more than someone as easily silenced as Oishi see him at his lowest ebb. Not that he was currently capable of concocting any kind of formula to keep the other student quiet about his odd behavior. Many of his jumbled thoughts were occupied by the need to just. stop. shaking. An act which left him light-headed and pallid when he gradually began to sit up and opened his eyes. "......"
Each attempt Atobe made to right himself only threw Oishi off more-- from the incapacitating shivering to his weary, lifeless eyes that were conveying more pain than Oishi was ever qualified to care for on his own. He swallowed the dry, cold-air lump in his throat and chewed his lip, continuing to work his hand over Atobe's back, and having put aside whatever ire he had for the man several minutes ago in favor of assuring he didn't exhaust himself, hyperventilate, or even die out here.
Glancing up, he debated a path that would lead them indoors. "I'll take you. A-as quick as I can. Once you're inside, you'll improve much faster." Of course doing such things with the time paused, he didn't exactly need permission, but he felt it necessary to ask, "Just, nod if that's all right?"
Atobe had a vague recollection of Oishi's powers being related to the passage of time, a notion which somehow loosened to tight hold with which his fears of being discovered had ensnared what little was left of his senses to be toyed with. The warm passage of a hand massaging circles across his back further roused him enough to do as Oishi asked for the time being. The nod was followed by making himself pliant enough to be helped to his feet. If he was aware of the dragging sensation of time slowing to a crawl around them then he made no indication that it disturbed or intrigued him as it would were he fully conscious of his actions. Instead his hunched over self shivered silently beside Oishi.
Once he was up on his feet, Oishi figured there was no good reason to have Atobe suffering anymore than he needed to, and slipped himself into a fold in time that would seem instantaneous to everyone else. By the time Atobe came to again, they were standing in the doorway, his body slumped against Oishi's exhausted frame, having expended nearly all his resources both summoning his power and carrying his weight.
The air was noticeably warmer, and Oishi let his classmate down on one of the sofas in the dormitory lounge.
"There. I… I can find you something warm to drink, if you need it." Oishi was willing to try just about anything at this point to alleviate what was a frankly frightening sight.
Another tiny nod was all Atobe seemed capable of providing in terms of a coherent response. He remained where Oishi so gently deposited him, face now buried in the crook of one arm, and the jacket tucked over his shoulders splayed out to disguise much of his lingering trembles. As the lukewarmth of the room seeped into his pallid skin it didn't gain any color but nor did it take on the disturbing blue tinge that overexertion tended to lend it during times of stress. When Oishi returned, he was still curled over onto his side, but had at least found the strength to push away the dampened streaks of hair from his face.
Oishi chewed practically through his lip upon his return with a hot poptop can of soup from a nearby machine. He cracked it open, setting it in Atobe's hand and helping to curl his fingers around it. Seeing such a bizarre, inhuman pigment on someone's skin wasn't new, considering their classmates, but it was new on Atobe-- an unnaturally, sickly color that made the rest of his skin look all the more pale and ill. He sat beside him silently so long as he might have needed something, and tried to look as casual and not put-out by the endeavor as possible (despite the fact that his body ached as if he'd just done a lap around campus.)
"I didn't know the weather affected you like this. In fact, I would think cold weather would be…" Oishi trailed, sighing, "If there's someone I need to contact about this…"
Atobe's fingers felt brittle and frozen to the touch at first, but little by little the presence of the warm can between them brought at least a hint of color back into his features. He was never particularly dark to begin with, but at least by the time he'd sipped away half of the soothingly bland contents he was looking less liable to keel over at any given second. His bedraggled self remained quiet for a few minutes, more than long enough to lure Oishi into thinking that he was not about to provide an answer. Then a shaken murmur came tumbling out, "....kuwahara.."
His shoulders slumped as that lack of answer hung heavily in the air between them. Oishi was halfway ready to find the nearest phone and dial an emergency number… though, given the student's abilities and the potential for the abuse of authority by ill-intentioned non-mutants, he forewent the decision just in time to hear his quiet admission. "Eh? Kuwa-- Jackal?" Without any indication he'd heard incorrectly, Oishi rose to his feet with a small groan.
Logically, if someone were needed to warm up a student with the power of ice, it would have to be another with the power of fire, he supposed. Oishi nodded anxiously, filling the space as he climbed around the couch and toward the stairwell with hurried assurances he'd find the other student's roommate. Eventually, after a quick jostle of his mind remembering room numbers, he found himself in front of their shared dorm, knocking a bit roughly. "Kuwahara? Are you in?"
Jackal was well aware of the rain going on outside. It was precisely why he was staying in, doing homework, and behaving by keeping to his promise to Atobe to not practice his fire while in their room. The hurried knock caught his attention, and he got up, heading to the door. "Yeah? Oh, hey, Oishi," he smiled, recognizing the other student. "What brings you here?"
It would be impossible to hide the panicked, wide-eyed look he gave Jackal once that door swung open, catching his breath and furrowing his brow. “I need your help,” Unusually impolite and direct for Oishi, though he hoped given the circumstances it could be forgiven. “Atobe’s not well,” Or at least, that was as best as he could explain a thing like this. “Can you come with me? He asked specifically for you.” And for something Oishi hoped Jackal understood more than he did.
Jackal blinked. Now that was weird. Atobe usually avoided him like the plague. Why on earth would he be asking for him? Unless.... " 'Course. Can't let the ice queen down now, can we?" he chuckled, using the nickname in the fondest possible way...because even if Atobe tried his damnedest to keep Jackal away, Jackal actually kinda liked the guy. "Lead the way."
The soup was exhausted by the time the others arrived back in the otherwise deserted dormitory lounge. Atobe had left the empty container, discarded it upon a low table set into the corner beside the sofa. Although he hadn’t resumed his former position, bunched up into a pitiful origami amongst the spill of cushions which sat in a plump little row at his back; he was still somewhat wilted against the arm of it. When the density of warmth residing beneath Oishi’s jacket (and the added layer of his sweatshirt as well), had become too much to bear he’d pushed both aside - leaving him clad in only the damp second skin of his own ruined attire. That was how the pair of them would find him upon their eventual return.
Needless to say Oishi was relieved that, with only the vaguest suggestion, Jackal appeared to have reached an understanding of their current situation. (Though he did have to resist the urge to stop and shake some sense into him about just how dire a sight their ‘ice queen’ currently was.) An exasperated sigh and a pair of hands framed his hips when the pair of them arrived downstairs, and Atobe had curled quietly in on himself again. “He was out in the rain, looking worse than he does now.” Hesitantly, his green eyes drew up against Jackal’s expression, “I assume this isn’t... new?”
Jackal just shook his head at the sight. Really. Part of having powers that affected your body and potentially your health was knowing how to survive them. Why on earth would a guy who shivered at night let himself get soaked in the rain? "Well. New to me. But it's alright. I'll figure something out......." He trailed off as he thought. First things first. He'd have to get Atobe back up to their room, and he certainly didn't look in a state to be walking.
Walking to the sofa, Jackal knelt down in front of Atobe. "You called?" he grinned.
At first it seemed as though the former heir was so lost in contemplation, or perhaps merely the act of keeping himself conscious that Jackal’s presence wasn’t quite bold enough to make its way past his own brittle state. His gaze, normally so vital and alive with the extremities of a sharp mind was now glazed and slow to focus. Eventually it made its way to settling on Jackal’s upturned face, and a weak source of comprehension drip-fed itself into existence.
“......you came.”
Jackal couldn't help his grin growing at the other possible ways that could be taken, even if that wasn't part of his relationship with Atobe. "Well. It'd look bad if I let my roommate catch his death, now, wouldn't it?" He put a hand on Atobe's forehead, and decided the guy felt even colder than usual. "...We gotta get you up to the room," he remarked, and without any warning, he moved smoothly in what started out as a lunge, and ended in him standing, with a dripping wet Atobe slung over his shoulder.
Before Oishi could volunteer to help carry him, Jackal had predictably taken the quick and easy route, leaving him to gather up the sopping wet pile of discarded clothing on the sofa-- leaving a rather suspicious puddle in its wake. “So... you’re sure he’ll be all right then?” If this was something fairly typical for those with temperature-based abilities, Oishi hadn’t had enough exposure to realize it. Right now he was too busy trying to choke his heart back down his throat and gently reminding himself that one of his fellow students wasn’t going to suddenly drop dead tonight. “It’s under control?”
Jackal had one arm around Atobe for support, just to make sure the guy didn't slide around anywhere. The free hand, he set on Oishi's shoulder. "I think so. But I promise you this. If I can't get him looking and feeling better in an hour, I'll call the professionals. No matter what, I'll make sure he's taken care of. And I'll keep you posted, let you know how he's doing." And Jackal meant it. Atobe had his pride; Jackal knew that meant he'd want as few people knowing about this as possible. So he would give him that chance...but not at the cost of his life. If he couldn't do it, then pride be damned, he'd wake the entire school if he had to.
Looking reluctantly relieved of his self-imposed duties, Oishi met Jackal’s eyes and gave a singular nod, “Ah, I appreciate it. Thank you.” One less thing to worry about around here. Oishi cleaned up the last of the mess they’d left all over the rain-soaked lobby and retreated upstairs to sleep off the exhaustion in his muscles that were currently making him feel as if he’d been pulled through the ringer. It’d be a wonder if he woke up on time tomorrow at all.
Jackal headed up to their room as quickly as he could, with Atobe's added weight. Once inside, with the door closed and bolted, he sat Atobe down on the foot of his own bed. "Now to get you out of those wet things and into something dry," he said aloud, though more to himself than actually to Atobe. "Don't need you shivering at me if we can avoid it."
With something warm inside of him Atobe was a few degrees less useless than he’d been for the last half hour or so. Though fingers and thumbs were all his help really amounted to, between them at least the first layer (another one of those deceptively expensive cardigans) was peeled away to reveal the translucent cotton of the shirt lurking beneath it. Head hung, and breathing tenuous at best, the mansion’s resident catalyst looked worn down; too distant from his divisive personality for either of their likings. His clumsy fingertips made a chore of the top button to that sodden shirt, fumbling once, twice, and again to find some form of purchase upon it.
"Tsk. Here. Let me." Under any other circumstances, Jackal would have taken his time, made a game out of peeling of another person's clothing. But with Atobe in that current state, he couldn't afford the extra time. That, and he wasn't the kind of guy to take advantage of someone when they were practically catatonic. One by one, he popped the buttons and stripped off Atobe's shirt, replacing it by wrapping the comforter of Atobe's bed around the pale guy's shoulders. Then, he moved onto Atobe's pants, making quick work of them, as well.
This kind of attentive care wasn’t something which had ever been bestowed upon Atobe. That was, unless the carers, like the nannies of his child-hood, the teachers of adolescence, and the playmates from his teenage years were being duly compensated with hard cash in exchange for their time. A head full of bitter memories kept him docile for the time being, at least until he surfaced from their depths to find himself half naked upon the end of a familiar bed.
One by one the minute hurts which littered his body came together to form a bruised whole, and he winced; aware enough to at least attempt to disguise another tangible weakness from Jackal’s sight, “.....why are you doing this?” The whisper was rhetoric, almost intended solely for Atobe himself.
Jackal blinked, pausing with Atobe's pants around the knees, and glanced up. "Well, you don't seem to be in proper condition to do it yourself....so somebody's gotta," he answered with a shrug as he gave a last tug to get Atobe's pants down and off. "We should get your shorts off, too, you know. Though if you'd prefer to do that part yourself, I'd understand." He knew enough of how Atobe kept his clothes to busy himself finding a dry set of clothes for him in the meantime.
Ensconced within the thick folds of the comforter with its familiar scent of off-brand fabric softener and soap powder, Atobe took several minutes to catch up to the agenda. By the time Jackal turned back around, having dug through the ridiculously large assortment of designer goods contained within Atobe’s wardrobe; the other had somehow worked himself out of his underwear.
With his defenses down, and concentration not exactly at an all time high, even though he’d managed to end up with the remainder of the thin duvet draped across his modesty, it still left little to the imagination in other respects.
When Jackal did turn back around, he couldn't help taking a moment to enjoy the view, even if it was under unfortunate circumstances. He was only human, after all. But fortunately, he did have his priorities in line, and no matter how attractive Atobe was, his health came first. "So. Gonna tell me what you were doing out in that storm?" he asked, handing Atobe a clean pair of underpants to put on. While Atobe did that, Jackal worked on towel-drying Atobe's hair, figuring a hair dryer (if Atobe even owned one, because Jackal sure didn't) would be too much heat.
With at least some semblance of clothing returned to him, Atobe’s dismal posture began to slowly unfurl. It was more of a case of needing something to act as support for his weary frame than being consciously aware of seeking out Jackal’s warmth. As it was, he maintained an air of blissful ignorance when it came to the nightly arrangement Jackal had discreetly instituted to alleviate a measure of the restlessness from their nightly routine. This time, as his back came into contact with the firm plain of Jackal’s chest what sounded suspiciously like a sigh of relief exited Keigo’s lips, “......I was...was looking for something...”
Jackal arched an eyebrow when Atobe leaned back against him. To his knowledge, Atobe didn't know about the fact that Jackal had been climbing into bed with him to keep him from shivering at night, and during the day, Atobe even went out of his way to avoid coming into physical contact with Jackal. This...was definitely a first. "What in the world could be so important that you'd do that to yourself? That's like me deciding to go swim in an ocean all of a sudden. It just doesn't happen." With Atobe's hair mostly dry, Jackal tossed the towel aside and set the pair of pants onto Atobe's lap, while he set about putting a dry shirt onto the man himself.
For a while after Jackal had clad him in a fresh shirt, Atobe merely neglected to acknowledge the presence of the loose trousers where they sat folded into a precise square upon his lap. Instead, he focused all of his dwindling energy into bringing his breathing to an even crawl, and to sorting out the cacophony of thoughts inside his head into something resembling order. They shuffled reluctantly into place, but still the sodden journey back to the mansion had left its mark upon his ability to do much more than accept a lot of what was going on around him. Jackal’s bewildered queries were met with little more than a murmured, “....doesn’t matter.” Accompanied by the sensation of the senior clumsily finding his way into those forgotten garments.
"It does matter," Jackal stated simply, waiting until Atobe was fully dressed before moving to shift the guy properly into his bed. Then, he settled in beside Atobe, with just the right amount of space between them. It had taken nights of trial and error - too close and Atobe got too hot, too far and Jackal's higher body heat didn't reach him well enough to stop the shivers - but he'd finally found it. That distance where Atobe wouldn't shiver anymore, but wasn't uncomfortably warm. "....Atobe. If Oishi hadn't gotten you, you could've ended up with pneumonia, or frozen to death or something. There's little in this world that's worth dying over....so it had to be important." Jackal crossed his arms behind his own head, lying down. "You can tell me. I won't tell anyone."
Trust wasn’t something which came easily to Atobe - it hadn’t long before his family had cast him out, daubed black and tainted by the powers which would make a mockery of their legacy should they come to light. It still didn’t, in a school where the very mention of his surname provoked water-cooler gossip and preconceptions which weren’t exactly helped by the vigorousness with which he defended those last vestiges of an entitled upbringing. If the student body wanted a glorious elite towards whom they could direct their adoration (or scorn) then Atobe wasn’t going to go about giving one to them in a half-hearted fashion.
However, lying within the four corners of a bed which resided within the equally secure four walls of their room his public persona lost some of its grip. There were a thousand places to lay the blame for his candor; exhaustion, the temperature, Jackal himself. Yet, Atobe pushed them all aside and simply spoke without pretense, and with his dull-eyed gaze directed towards the sheets, “....you’ll think I’m losing my mind.”
Jackal grinned a little at that. "Honey, I hate to tell you this, but I'm already convinced everybody in this place - including the two of us - is completely batshit in one way or another. Telling me can't possibly do any more harm than the years I've been here already have." He rolled to his side, facing Atobe, but careful to keep that perfect distance. "And I've already promised I won't tell. I think if you've learned anything about me so far this term, it's that when I promise, I mean it."
It was true, that Jackal had given him little reason to believe he spoke with less than complete honesty. If nothing else, Atobe prided himself on understanding tells, and how to spot a fake from enough of a distance to either out fox them, or steer well clear. He’d spend the next few days spreading the blame around, but for now beneath the relief of dry sheets, and with Jackal radiating a calming warmth which seeped bone-deep to wash away the memories of that incessant chill - he too uttered a few truthful syllables, “.....answers. I was looking for....for a reason to stay here.”
Jackal hummed a little, both surprised and curious. "And you decided you had to go out in the rain for that. ...I'm pretty sure...raindrops don't have mouths. Or brains. Even if they are evil," he grinned, unable to resist the tiny bit of teasing. It was Atobe, after all. It'd be weird if there was absolutely no teasing in a conversation. "But you know...in all seriousness...You have reasons to stay. If they're not good enough...make new ones. They won't just fall in your lap."
For all the grief he’d put himself (and to a lesser extent both Oishi and Jackal) through during the evening there was something strangely comfortable about giving in to a weird blend of humor and simply spoken advice. Letting his lips form a subtle ghost of a smile; one of those rare expressions which wasn’t clouded by spite or self-satisfaction; was far easier than he’d assumed it might be. It took a while, but eventually his gaze picked itself up, inch by inch until it met with the amusement in Jackal’s own, “.....peculiar as ever, but....you may have a point.”
"Of course I do," Jackal smiled, something more real than his usual grin. Atobe was actually smiling. "I might not always act like the smartest guy around, but I've at least got some common sense floating around in here," he remarked, tapping his own temple. "And...I know this is totally off-topic, but I gotta say it. ....You should smile more. You're much more attractive that way."
For once it wasn’t a lewd retort or a pitying back-hander which sprung to mind when Jackal offered him what felt like a genuine compliment. Since an early age Atobe had become desensitized to being told he was beautiful, talented, and unique. Yet to be appreciated for something as simple as merely smiling (and actually meaning it) was another thing entirely. Blind-sided in a way he hadn’t been for much of his life, it took a few seconds before he let his lips quirk once more, “.....that’s something else you need to keep to yourself.”
Jackal's smile grew, into a more honest version of his usual grin. "Well. It's not like I was saying I wanna get in your pants," he teased. He had thought about it, though, a time or two, and...probably would again, after that glimpse he'd had earlier, but Atobe didn't need to know that. "But once again, teasing aside...You really should smile more. That's the first step in making friends with people. Just a simple, little smile, as opposed to a serious, stern, 'don't even think about talking to me' kind of face." And of course, Jackal's own face made an impression of one of Atobe's usual expressions, the kind that tended to chase people away. "Somebody looking like this doesn't exactly encourage camaraderie."
“You look like a disgruntled egg...” This estimation at least brought a hint of humor back into Atobe’s weary expression. As worn down as he seemed to be, the slow suffusing of tepid warmth back into his trembling body along with Jackal’s casual care appeared to be working small miracles. He shifted, lying upon his side in a less guarded posture; from this position he could watch Jackal as he chuckled, and it took him a few moments to realise the gentle laughter which threaded with that of his room-mate was stemming from himself.
The huffiness which followed was far too gentle to be regarded as a proper threat, that and the fact that Atobe was making some kind of effort to keep the usual disdain from his face in favor of something which suggested that maybe they were making some progress towards being more than civil towards each other, “...you...damn egg, making me laugh so easily. I should have you removed.”
Jackal smiled a little bit. So there really was a softer side to Atobe, deep down in there somewhere. He'd suspected as much, after so many nights of sleeping next to the guy, but this was the first time he'd seen signs of it when his icy roommate was awake. "I'm not a wart, Atobe. You can't 'have me removed' that easily." He reached over and poked Atobe's nose, just to get a reaction from him. "Think of me kinda like a phoenix. Just when you think you've got me snuffed out, I'm gonna rise up from the ashes, good as new," he winked.
The sudden tap of a warm fingertip against the tip of his nose caused it to wrinkle, and Atobe squeezed his eyes shut for an instant before opening them once more only to fix Jackal with his best pout. Maybe it was the dense relief of being lukewarm, dry and secure once again, or maybe the privacy of it just being the two of them were to blame, but at least for now his guard was down in a different way. A less damaging one to when Oishi had found him; half drowned from the rain and sodden with confliction.
Without thinking his fingers reached out to give Jackal the lightest of little shoves to his shoulder, “Should have you stuffed and mounted then. If you’re some damn fire bird.”
Jackal couldn't help a hearty laugh. Atobe was being positively adorable, in his own way. "Mm...you could try, but don't you think it'd be weird, being stared at all day and night?" he asked, grinning for a moment before straightening his face, widening his eyes, and leaning in, not even blinking as he stared straight at Atobe.
True to his usual form, Atobe proved that he was feeling better by holding Jackal’s unwavering gaze without flinching or so much as blinking. He shrugged his shoulders, “I’m used to it already.” After all, his exotic good looks were enough to have made him the center of attention when he was a child, and although there were plenty of equally attractive and unusual students living in the mansion - somehow he still managed to draw interest even when he was doing the most mundane of things.
"Oh yeah?" Jackal challenged, still not wavering. "Even when that gaze is watching you while you sleep? While you bathe? While you're sitting on the toilet taking a crap? Being watched everyday is one thing. But those are private, personal moments. I wouldn't want someone watching me take a crap." The other two he could probably handle. Bathing, especially, well...he'd probably just tell his spectator to come on in and join him.
“You’re so uncouth!” Luckily for Jackal, Atobe was smiling even as his curled fingers batted the other against his chest as a gentle form of scolding. However, his words had been rather enlightening, and in his relieved and recovering state, Keigo couldn’t help but interrogate him, “Hm, haven’t you been watching me?” He delivered the question as if its answer was already determined.
Jackal just grinned even more. "I'm just honest," he remarked with a shrug, catching Atobe's wrist in his hand simply because he could. "But as for that...You're my roommate. I can't not watch you, when you're here. You're kind of hard to ignore, as it turns out, walking around like a peacock showing off those tail feathers."
Without his careful styling and designer wardrobe, Atobe looked a far cry from the usual preened persona he paraded about the halls of the mansion. His silvery gray hair feathered softly around his cheeks now that it was dry, and the plain nature of his clothing was like nothing he’d usually choose to wear - not even in private. He couldn’t deny that commoner garb was rather comfortable, at least for lounging around on a bed. A tiny hmmph of derision passed between them, and he tucked several of those silver-gray strands behind one elfin ear, “I can’t help it if my lineage produced such a gorgeous result.”
"Mmhm, see, that's exactly what I'm talking about. Shake those tail feathers~" Jackal teased, though behind the lighthearted words, he was serious. Even disheveled and in normal clothing, even after being soaked to the core and having two people worried about him, Atobe somehow still had this air of elegance and pride to him. Perhaps he'd been royalty in a past life. Hell, for all Jackal knew, maybe he was in this one.
“Hah, if anyone looks flashy it’s you.” It was true that Jackal stood out in his own way - being bold enough to go for such a (lack of a) hairstyle, accompanied by the rich hue of his skin. Considering how pale Atobe’s own skin was, he only stood out further even in the soft illumination stemming from the bedside lamp. Having sought to avoid him out of trepidation over their conflicting powers, and a sense of duty as someone who was supposed to consider himself above all others, Atobe hadn’t taken the chance to properly study his room-mate’s equally as exotic aesthetics. He did so now, without a hint of shame, “An egg, but....a decent looking one at least.”
It didn't bother Jackal to be studied like that. Like Atobe, he was used to being looked at. He knew his skin stood out in a crowd, and that it was rare to go hairless in a country like this. But there were perks, too. It got him attention he might not normally get. And of course, he always liked the contrast between his own skin tone and the lighter one of whoever he happened to take to bed... Of course, it was a good thing he liked it, because that's all he'd get short of going back to Brazil. Or like, Africa, or America, or someplace more diverse like that. "Better than decent. I'm one of a kind," he winked. "They broke the mold when they made me."
The faint sauciness of Jackal’s idiosyncrasies didn’t escape Atobe in the slightest. There was something so natural about it that Keigo simply let himself enjoy their banter without constantly keeping his social standing in mind. Chuckling softly, he lay back against the mound of yielding pillows behind his head to look up at his room mate. Maybe this sharing thing wouldn’t be so terrible after all, “....ahn, did they now?”
Jackal settled back into the comfortable distance...or maybe just a tiny bit closer. He didn't want to overheat Atobe, still. "Well. Given my power, maybe it's more like I melted whatever it is they molded me out of. Either way, they couldn't make another just like me." He let himself look Atobe over, simply for the novelty of it. "Bet they couldn't make another of you either, though," he smiled, glad Atobe was relaxing.
Keigo scoffed with a little less conviction than usual, “Of course not.” He could feel the curious rake of Jackal’s gaze, and didn’t feel worse because of it. If anything just having a normal conversation with someone made a change from listening with half an ear as some member of the faculty attempted to scold him, or the lewd murmurings exchanged between himself and a certain teacher, “We’re all special little snowflakes...”
"Speak for yourself, ice cube. I'm a special little flame. No other flickers like I do," Jackal smirked, and just because he could, he sparked a small flame on one of his candles in the room. Okay, so it could've been risky, given the difficulty he'd had with control, but this was also the one candle he'd never had a problem lighting on his own....and between his own fire extinguisher and Atobe's powers, he wasn't too worried... But there was no need for concern. The little flame lit and burned, just as if it'd been lit with a match.
“Shall have to call you phoenix from now on, hm?” Even as his gaze drifted in the direction of the sudden spark of heat and flickering light, Atobe raised a languid arm. The sharp snap of his fingers coincided with the flame’s abrupt death as it found itself turned to frosted ice in a beautiful instant.
Jackal pouted, and even shivered briefly, when his flame was frozen. "So mean to me." It felt a little like a challenge, though, and Jackal was so extremely tempted to sit up and focus, create a flame from within that ice that would melt it from the inside out, strong enough not to be doused by the water.... But. That did require focus, and attention, and a total shift of the mood they had. Given how rare it was, he was ill-inclined to lose it. "Just as long as you don't go calling me by anything cold or wet, I don't much care what you do call me," he admitted with a shrug.
That minor demonstration of their oppositional powers was about all Atobe could be bothered to do. Lowering his arm, he draped it across his own waist only to roll back over to face Jackal once more, “Don’t tempt me.” Even if it was muted in comparison to the usual wicked nature of the heir’s smile, playfulness still toyed with the corners of his lips. Jackal’s practical care, and the mild warmth of the bed seemed to be doing wonders for his fractured mood.
"Mm...so even you can be tempted after all," Jackal grinned. "Good to know, good to know..." He stored that little tidbit for later. Never know when it might come in handy. "What else can you be tempted into, hm? Just how human are you really?" It was an honest, curious question. Atobe always seemed as cold as the ice he controlled, and not just physically. But Jackal was beginning to see there was a little warmth in there after all, thanks to this.
“Probably more human than I wish I was.” Even if his lips were still colored by the smallest of smiles, there was something like pain reflected in his gaze for a brief instant before it was pushed back down again. He shook his head, almost chastising himself for becoming sentimental at a time when he should’ve been focusing on finding ways to make Jackal (and to a lesser extent Oishi) forget about ever having seen his more damaged side.
The way Atobe said that, the sentence weighed heavily on Jackal's mind. Like there really was a lot more to Atobe than he let on... "I think we all have moments like that. Where it feels like we're too soft to handle all the crap thrown at us. But...Someone I know used to always say that we're never given more than we can handle, no matter how impossible it seems to be." He glanced over. "I try to remember that, when it feels like too much."
Now that he’d had some time to calm down, to put things back into perspective in ways keeping everything buried hadn’t allowed him to before, Keigo could actually take some of Jackal’s words to heart. Normally, he’d have brushed them aside as the vapid sentiment of someone who’d never known true hardship, but given that he was (relatively) healthy, safe, and gifted in his own way whining on after this brief slip up would only have made him seem to be as highly strung and petty as his public image seemed to suggest.
In the wan half-light of their room, with only Jackal for company it felt a little less of a betrayal to let himself relax, to stop trying so damn hard to be the elite that his lineage had formed him into, only to throw him away when that status was tainted. So he smiled, a little more than he’d ever let himself without it being laced with sarcasm or wickedness, “Rest assured you won’t have to be taking care of me like this again. I suppose I might’ve learned something at least....”
Jackal smiled. "You know, it'd be alright if I did." He was flattered, really, that of all the people Atobe could've asked for, he'd asked for him. He wasn't entirely sure what it meant - maybe he asked only for the warmth, maybe for something else - but he was alright with it. He'd gotten to know his roommate a little better. "It'd also be alright with me if...you know. You ever have something you want to talk about. I'm a pretty good listener, and...not to toot my own horn, but...I've been told I give pretty good advice." Just...putting it out there. Atobe might never take him up on it, but hey. The offer would still stand.
Jackal’s words and the wave of sincerity which Atobe felt rolling off of him as they were spoken were enough to convince him that maybe rooming with someone whose powers commanded such an opposition to his own might not be so terrible after all. Maybe he wouldn’t stop using archaic curse words, or describing Jackal as ‘that exotic scoundrel’, but at least in the privacy of their own space there wouldn’t be that air of tension any longer.
Still smiling faintly, he inclined his head just enough to let Jackal know he’d acknowledged his offer, appreciated it even. As worn out as he was, Atobe was never above continuing to tease and play once he’d accepted someone as a friend, “Hmm, maybe you’re not so bad afterall, Jackal-kun.”
Jackal had the urge to grin and tease, to say something along the lines of 'I could've told you that' or 'well, of course not'....but...this was a good moment. For probably the first time since they'd been living together, there seemed to be an understanding between them, and there was no reason to push his limits too much. So instead, Jackal just smiled. "You're not so bad yourself, Atobe."
The subtle warmth of the bed, and Jackal’s close proximity were getting to Keigo again, and he buried down a little further beneath the covers. Whether Jackal chose to remain by his side was left open for the other student to decide, “Of course, I’m not....”
Jackal didn't see a particular need to move, if Atobe wasn't kicking him out of bed. He was actually a bit worried. Even though Atobe seemed fine, now, he did have that tendency to be freezing cold at night when he slept...so if Atobe wasn't going to make him leave, he wasn't going to. ...Of course, even if Atobe did make him leave, Jackal would probably just end up right where he'd started from, after Atobe fell asleep.
For now, though, he just smiled and kept his thoughts to himself, watching Atobe out of the corner of his eye. The other seemed sleepy...
It took only a matter of minutes before Keigo lapsed into a shallow doze. In sleep his body sought out the familiar warmth lying beside him, and soon enough he’d snuggled up to Jackal’s side of his own slumbering volition. Wrapped in the cocoon of soothing rest, he looked unburdened by his highly-strung nature; even if his body still shivered for some time after nestling next to Jackal beneath the covers.
Jackal was careful not to wake him as he shifted, just enough to pull out his phone and send Oishi a message that Atobe was going to be alright, as he'd promised he would. That done, he settled in. He usually tried not to let himself get caught when he warmed Atobe's bed, but...just this once, it'd be alright, since Atobe knew he was there before he'd fallen asleep. Besides...it was too comfortable, and Jackal always did like snuggling somebody.