Ishigaki blinks, sputters uselessly in some sort of unfinished sentence, before he shuts his mouth in a tight, straight line. Red faced, he turns and pushes his door open.
"J-just go dry off!"
It doesn’t hit that Midousuji very well plans on staying the night until he’s opened his drawer, staring blankly at his clothes as his ears still burn red. Ishigaki's skin buzzes and he almost hates how much he likes it, but he's not sure he can handle anymore of Midousuji's mischief if it lasts the whole night...
While Ishigaki was content to be friends and nothing else, now he's yearning for something entirely different that even someone as dense as himself couldn't deny. Touches would linger for longer than they needed to be by his own doing, and fantasies they he had about each other were too embarrassing to share. Ishigaki loved Midousuji’s confidence most of all, and yet Ishigaki couldn't dare to mirror it. At least, definitely not in this context. Despite all the ways he quietly fantasized declawing Midousuji and leaving him a stupid mess, Ishigaki fumbled the chances the more his feelings grew.
And then there was the pivotal question…
What if he was reading this entirely wrong?
Ishigaki grasps onto that train of thought instead, as he often does in this situation. Midousuji just knows how to get under people’s skin, he decides. Midousuji was growing more comfortable by the day, and now he’s testing Ishigaki’s boundaries.
If that was the case, Ishigaki had to set those boundaries. Midousuji wasn't fragile, that much was clear, but Ishigaki is clearly an influence, and Midousuji's world is still so small- ever growing- but still small. It's clear Ishigaki is Midousuji's safe space. He wonders, then, if offering Midousuji his spare keys was all just a subconscious ploy more than the kind gesture he thought it was.
Tired of thinking, he absentmindedly chooses a random shirt and a pair of sweatpants.
--
By the time Midousuji is dressed, Ishigaki has set the tea and has himself seated. His legs are tucked under the kotatsu, feeling only a little more recollected.
"If I'm giving you keys to my home," Ishigaki starts when he hears Midousuji come up the hallway, his arms crossed and gaze settled on the trail of steam that wavers off his tea. "There's going to be rules. And the first rule, is no..."
Ishigaki pauses, holding his words in his mouth. He knows he's setting himself up to be another end of a joke at this point, but he lets out a huff, continuing anyway. "No standing naked. In my hallway.”
His voice loses its seriousness, instead showing his own confusion, “If I give you a towel, you should use it."
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"J-just go dry off!"
It doesn’t hit that Midousuji very well plans on staying the night until he’s opened his drawer, staring blankly at his clothes as his ears still burn red. Ishigaki's skin buzzes and he almost hates how much he likes it, but he's not sure he can handle anymore of Midousuji's mischief if it lasts the whole night...
While Ishigaki was content to be friends and nothing else, now he's yearning for something entirely different that even someone as dense as himself couldn't deny. Touches would linger for longer than they needed to be by his own doing, and fantasies they he had about each other were too embarrassing to share. Ishigaki loved Midousuji’s confidence most of all, and yet Ishigaki couldn't dare to mirror it. At least, definitely not in this context. Despite all the ways he quietly fantasized declawing Midousuji and leaving him a stupid mess, Ishigaki fumbled the chances the more his feelings grew.
And then there was the pivotal question…
What if he was reading this entirely wrong?
Ishigaki grasps onto that train of thought instead, as he often does in this situation. Midousuji just knows how to get under people’s skin, he decides. Midousuji was growing more comfortable by the day, and now he’s testing Ishigaki’s boundaries.
If that was the case, Ishigaki had to set those boundaries. Midousuji wasn't fragile, that much was clear, but Ishigaki is clearly an influence, and Midousuji's world is still so small- ever growing- but still small. It's clear Ishigaki is Midousuji's safe space. He wonders, then, if offering Midousuji his spare keys was all just a subconscious ploy more than the kind gesture he thought it was.
Tired of thinking, he absentmindedly chooses a random shirt and a pair of sweatpants.
--
By the time Midousuji is dressed, Ishigaki has set the tea and has himself seated. His legs are tucked under the kotatsu, feeling only a little more recollected.
"If I'm giving you keys to my home," Ishigaki starts when he hears Midousuji come up the hallway, his arms crossed and gaze settled on the trail of steam that wavers off his tea. "There's going to be rules. And the first rule, is no..."
Ishigaki pauses, holding his words in his mouth. He knows he's setting himself up to be another end of a joke at this point, but he lets out a huff, continuing anyway. "No standing naked. In my hallway.”
His voice loses its seriousness, instead showing his own confusion, “If I give you a towel, you should use it."