CLOSED LOG ★ Promise I'll be kind

[overcomplex]

Who: Aoyagi Ritsuka [overcomplex] and Agatsuma Soubi [nolongerblank]
What: Ritsuka showing Soubi around the S.S Thor because he took "don't move" literally and didn't move anywhere for two weeks (no explorin' like Dora ;;). THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE. So Ritsuka needs to show him their new home. And cuteness must happen.
When: A while ago, the morning after that OTHER log we

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[nolongerblank]

If Soubi has slept, he doesn't remember the details of it.

Dreams, after all, are more suitable for dreamers, and life is often nightmare enough. So, he lays there beside Ritsuka as still as he knows how to be, eyes closed and listening. Most of it is a calm, gentle sort of lull that sets everything at ease - tension drained into the mattress and pulse normal - with the sound of his breathing. His thoughts, too, are empty of everything other than the boy beside him. Ritsuka is innocent, so beautiful--

Soubi nearly reaches out to touch him when he unexpectedly moves, sits up. The pressure in his arm real, curious. And he feigns ignorance by simply closing his eyes.

I'm here.

Yet, it's difficult waiting for Ritsuka to do something, anything [how far away are you?], but those small fingers curl over his shoulder in hopes for his attention. Ritsuka's closeness is a hot bubble he's drawn into unconsciously, slowly peering at that young face through the fall of his bangs. He smiles, strangely more rested upon seeing him; his exhaustion

[overcomplex]

He sits back on the bed, slightly embarrassed by the close proximity, and glances to the side. Around. Somewhere that isn't Soubi -- maybe a clock. But he can't spot one right now so he doesn't know if it's morning, afternoon, or if they've only slept for fifteen minutes. He's not tired anymore, so it must be longer than fifteen minutes, but other than that he isn't sure. He rubs his cheek with the palm of his hand, almost like he's wiping off that ever so slight pink twinge that seems permanent on his face (and it has been, ever since he finally met up with Soubi

[nolongerblank]

"Ah--"

It's their own small world, Soubi thinks, and he doesn't dare to brave leaving it just yet. Instead, he stretches against the parts of Ritsuka's body he's still touching - his legs, a hip - and rolls onto his stomach to rest on his elbows, face in his hands. His hair, as it always seems to be, is in the way, and he does his best to brush it out of his line of vision. A quick shake of his head that displaces it for only a moment. Too many things to sort through at once.

There's the slightest hint of a smile.

"I'm all right."

And it's a moderate truth: he's relaxed, more than ready to do as he wants. Soubi remembers Ritsuka's earlier mention of giving him a tour, and though he's been there for a while, he certainly doesn't have any other reason to refuse now. As if there is anything else he could be doing that would please him as much as being with Ritsuka. He sighs, continuing to watch him while he fidgets with his clothes. He should get up, stop idling there without cause, do something [anything you need is yours], but

[overcomplex]

Ritsuka gives Soubi a skeptical look at that I'm All Right comment but chooses not to say anything about it. He seems to be in better spirits right now, better than last night, and that alone makes this day better. He lets his hands fall to the side when Soubi fixes his shirt from it's ruffled state. He frowns a little as he does, partly because now that Soubi has fixed the shirt he doesn't want to go and mess it up again, and he wants to mess it up. And partly because he's a big boy and can fix his own shirt. He doesn't get why Soubi feels the need to fix it

[nolongerblank]

With those words, he retreats as quietly as possible, hands falling away and onto the mussed sheets. Beneath the edge of a pillow so there isn't the temptation to touch him. Far worse thoughts than that bleed into his mind, despite his knowing it's only Ritsuka and no one else. Not... It's like being scolded, his punishment for being so careless in controlling himself. Soubi spends several minutes laying where he is, staring at his fingers - would they disappear if he pushed a little more? - and nodding at Ritsuka's every word.

Must be still. Must be quiet. Must be--

"I'll go," he answers, voice low. It's a murmur under his breath. "Wherever Ritsuka wants to go is fine."

Soubi is sincere in the response, though some of his training slips through with each syllable he speaks. It's certainly not the way he wants to feel, waking up with his Sacrifice near and warm and. Untouchable. He shakes his head, peering at him through the blond curtain his hair makes to concentrate on that young face, his black hair and the adorable ears he idly