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Ishigaki pulls his hand out of his pocket and his keys with it, his too eager movements and cold hands making unlocking the door difficult. He's so relieved when he finally hears the click that he doesn't immediately register the six foot figure right besides him.
He jumps, whipping his head, and just as quickly relaxes his shoulders.
It's Midousuji, masked up and in enough layers to almost hide his thin frame. More prepared for the weather than Ishigaki, but little enough to know that neither of them expected the temperature to drop the way it did. Midousuji didn't seem bothered, however.
He's leaned against the railing, his bike rested by his hip. It's not an unusual sight, Midousuji was only waiting like he was sporadically known to do when Ishigaki wasn't home on time. The two of them had been becoming increasingly close as Ishigaki was finishing his studies and Midousuji was just starting his. They both knew that some unspoken boundary had been cross lately, and Ishigaki gave up questioning Midousuji on why he would show up on his doorstep wordlessly like he did.
But tonight it was just so cold, and Ishigaki had been so late, that he couldn't help but give him a puzzled stare.
"Midousuji," Ishigaki says, tone accusatory. "It's too cold to be waiting out here like this."
You really should have called me," Ishigaki goes on, foot in the door and knowing Midousuji would soon follow, "I would have came home sooner."
He jumps, whipping his head, and just as quickly relaxes his shoulders.
It's Midousuji, masked up and in enough layers to almost hide his thin frame. More prepared for the weather than Ishigaki, but little enough to know that neither of them expected the temperature to drop the way it did. Midousuji didn't seem bothered, however.
He's leaned against the railing, his bike rested by his hip. It's not an unusual sight, Midousuji was only waiting like he was sporadically known to do when Ishigaki wasn't home on time. The two of them had been becoming increasingly close as Ishigaki was finishing his studies and Midousuji was just starting his. They both knew that some unspoken boundary had been cross lately, and Ishigaki gave up questioning Midousuji on why he would show up on his doorstep wordlessly like he did.
But tonight it was just so cold, and Ishigaki had been so late, that he couldn't help but give him a puzzled stare.
"Midousuji," Ishigaki says, tone accusatory. "It's too cold to be waiting out here like this."
You really should have called me," Ishigaki goes on, foot in the door and knowing Midousuji would soon follow, "I would have came home sooner."
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Before the ravenousness boils over again, Ishigaki suddenly—slips, which honestly startles Midousuji, whose hands fold at their wrists by his chest as they steeple up in surprise, his eyes widening. They don't stay like that for but a second, though.
He thrusts out a strong hand, long fingers gripping Ishigaki's bicep harshly, yanking him up to correct his balance somewhat, pulling Midousuji's own shoulder down a bit in the process.
"Ah, how bad of me. Sorry for the mess," Midousuji says through a sneaky smile, tilting his head. His voice is too smooth, too low, and too warm.
"Thank you for warming me up, Ishigaki-kun."
Okay, maybe he's overdoing it. He'll pump the breaks once he gets his pajamas. It's just too fun.
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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."
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He blinks at the tea, but doesn't comment; it's what you'd expect from a boy raised in Kyoto for a guest...but still, for some reason, Midousuji likes it. He wordlessly and without expression goes to settle under the kotatsu, and finds immediate ecstasy in the relief the warmth brings; his eyes close straight down their centers as his the warmth spreads and his temperature adjusts.
Then he cracks an eye open as Ishigaki speaks. When he mentions rules, both eyes open, and Midousuji tilts his head, peering owlishly through their edges as he stares at Ishigaki. Midousuji is petulant, and far from obedient—he hates to be challenged, and Ishigaki was never an authority to him, even as a captain. Of course, all this is still true—but...the context has...ah.
Altered.
Clearly, Midousuji went a bit too far. Midousuji stares, expressionless, his gears turning. Does he push harder? Does he rescind? Even if it is Ishigaki's home, Midousuji can't simply apologize and obey like a normal person. Even though Midousuji does like when Ishigaki gets firm and stands his ground, as much as it irritates him.
Midousuji squints.
"Sure, sure," he suddenly obliges, smiling wide just as abruptly. "Your hallway. Got it. So sorry, so sorry."
He likes it a lot.
"And what of the rest of your apartment, then?"
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Playful.
Ishigaki's stomach flips at the thought, but his expression doesn't falter- only softens, just a little. How easy it is for Midousuji to let his gaurd down...
Their eyes meet when Midousuji peeks them back open, and his smile has Ishigaki wondering if it would have just been easier to just have him doze off there and never mention what happened again.
"Come on," Ishigaki starts, his voice tilted in a way he's entertained. The retaliation was expected, at least. "I know my place is small, but it's a little different from a high school locker room, isn't it?" Ishigaki was sure that although it was a bit difficult to air out at times, it at least smelled better than that.
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It’s…nice. Which Midousuji finds so unsettling. Almost as unsettling as how comfortable he feels. Sure, it took over four years to get here, and Midousuji’s walls aren’t exactly razed to rubble on the ground.
The warmth finally sinking in his bones as well as Midousuji’s extremely physically taxing day causes his head to bob a little, Midousuji’s eyes squinting closed. Which, though Midousuji isn’t thinking about it, hasn’t happened around someone who isn’t his family before. Midousuji’s like a cat, that way.
He suddenly snaps awake, snapping his head up too quick, like a toddler catching themselves. Midousuji’s just going to pretend that didn’t just happen.
“…What time is it?”
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"Oh, um." Ishigaki says, a bit delayed. He was so focused he almost missed what Midousuji had said.
He checks his phone, the lock screen showing its a little after eight. He had such a busy schedule since he had entered college- classes, studying, a part time job, training and so on- that he would normally stay up much later just to have a moment to himself. But he knows Midousuji likes to wake up early, and he wants to encourage Midousuji to listen to what his body wants, anyhow. It was unsaid if Midousuji actually planned on staying the night or not, but Ishigaki likes that these types of things don't have to be asked. Not that Midousujj would be polite enough to ask, but the assumption is still reassuring.
"It's a little late," Ishigaki says softly enough you might think he's talking to someone who was already asleep. He reaches behind him, grabbing a throw pillow from the sofa and tossing it to the side of Midousuji. He grabs one for himself too, and falls back onto it to invite him to do the same, but once his head hits the pillow, he surprises himself with how his body loses all its tension.
Although he’s loathe to admit it, he was maybe feeling just a little bit selfish right now, too. Seeing Midousuji unguarded pulled at his heartstrings so deeply he can't do anything but grasp for more. He wants to see what Midousuji looks like asleep- without passing out and looking like a total corpse.
Oh.
He... wanted to watch Midousuji sleep.
Jeez. So much for setting boundaries, then. At least this was a little different than asking Midousuji not to walk around naked...
"It's okay if you're tired," Ishigaki says, folding his arms behind his head. Hidden intentions or not, he does mean it- gifting his keys was a way to tell Midousuji he was safe here. And he's never seen Midousuji entirely relaxed before, now that he thinks about it... "You look comfortable."
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His inner clock is accurate enough to dismantle that claim. Midousuji is surprised he’s tired this early, is all—he was curious.
But he doesn’t grill Ishigaki, either. He honestly doesn’t care, but he is curious why Ishigaki would lie about such a thing. Midousuji squints suspiciously, finding that mystery is bothering him more than the dishonesty does. His back bows as his shoulders slope forward, resting his head against the surface of the kotatsu.
“A weird thing to lie about, though… How’s that even benefit you?”
Maybe Ishigaki read the time wrong…
“Suspishiigaki.”
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And just as quickly, he catches himself- lowering his voice when he does. "...Ish."
Shit. Well, it's not like his intentions were clear judging by Midousuji's reaction. At least it must have been a good enough lie for Midousuji not to escalate it into what it really was...
"I think the day just snuck up on me," he says, facing the ceiling again, and luckily he's actually tired enough for his nerves not to slip into his voice. It's not a lie, anyway. It's easy for time to slip by when you're finishing up your last year of school.
"Why does it matter, anyway? If you're tired, you should sleep."
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Which is so weirdly specific and also not real. It’s not like his mind works too fast for him to sit down and parse things, after all!
“You don’t have to tell me,” Midousuji eventually answers, and yawns. His head rocks gently sideways. How does a day sneak up on anyone? Midousuji is confident that’s never happened to him. Every day is with exhausting hyper scrutinized routine—what Ishigaki says sounds more far fetched than Peter Pan.
His heavy eyes lid, his limbs feeling heavier than sand anyway as the warmth penetrates through his bones deep.
He doesn’t mean to—he even tries to fight it, actually!
But before long, head mostly sideways against the counter of the kotatsu’s table surface, Midousuji is deeply asleep. The day didn’t sneak up on him, though; that’s not why he was this tired. It was because Ishigaki snuck up on him. Not today specifically, but over time. Like an ornery cat, Midousuji can’t recall a time he’s fallen asleep in front of someone since his last caretaker.
It’s no mistake, just as a distrustful, damaged cat may, that Midousuji allows himself to doze off.