titsay
Kiana Khansmith
d e v o n
todays bird
almost home
Peter Solarz
i don't do bad sauce passes
★
pixel skylines
noise dept.
hello vonnie
Xuebing Du
Three Goblin Art
NASA
Monterey Bay Aquarium
izzy's playlists!
Origami Around
sheepfilms
No title available
dirt enthusiast
seen from Uzbekistan
seen from United States
seen from Poland
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Malaysia
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@radiantdark
Please reblog this if you’re someone who would be interested in roleplaying polyamorous relationships.
As someone who is poly, there is very little representation of my relationship structure in media/RP, and that’s sort of frustrating. I would like to find more people to rp this type of relationship with.
Can you reblog this if the mun is 18+
Reblog this if I have permission to come into your askbox IC at any point if my muse has a question for yours.
sexlessrpmemes:
Reblog if your muse is Panromantic/-sexual
Other pride-flag bubbles for your muses: [LGTBQA+] [Ace] [Aro] [Bisexual] [Grey-Asexual] [Demi-Asexual] [Gay] [Lesbian] [Transgender] [Intersex] [Agender] [Genderfluid] [Nonbinary]
by 一糸
(Serves you right.) ... WHO DID THIS TO YOU.
“Nobody worth talking about.”
It wasn’t like he’d seen their faces, and even if he had, asking for help by telling Kazuo wasn’t something he’d do.
radiantdark:
Hands settled on Zoisite’s back again, finding unbruised and unbandaged places by memory. Just support, now. “You were going to wind up murdering me in my sleep one way or another. It might as well be for something worthwhile.”
It might as well be for something that might give Izumi pause tomorrow, before he slipped out of the house, medical issues or not, and went wherever it was he went this time. It might as well be for something that might trouble him sometimes, might make him wonder, when they went back to never speaking of it again.
They hadn’t done that yet. So Kazuo pushed the thought away, and said instead, “That’s why I stopped.” If Izumi hit him for it, deservedly, at least the timing meant that he wouldn’t be hitting all that hard.
It was enough to make Izumi think long and hard about it now, in addition to the fact that he’d already made a move away from that constant skittish fear response. “It’s going to be by fractions of a centimeter at a time, though,” Izumi grumbled.
The blond released Kazuo’s shirt, the excitement from that interlude rapidly losing to his body’s demand to rest, to heal. Izumi squirmed to get under the blankets, carefully, so he didn’t mar any of Kazuo’s hard work. There was a brief flash of thoughtfulness on Izumi’s face, heavily-peppered with tiredness.
The blond Shitennou knew his previous behavior had made romantic advances seem like something of a loser’s game, investing effort where it would eventually be spurned, and that… that wouldn’t do. There was no way he was going to force himself to be honest out loud, not right now, especially since it would seem hollow, as if the concussion were the cause. Finally, Izumi settled for grabbing one of Kazuo’s hands with both of his own, dragging it close, and resting his cheek against it as he drifted off.
A fraction of a centimeter at a time? "I don't doubt. You take pride in your work." Subtle warmth aside, Kazuo let the half-embrace fall away easily once Izumi started wriggling. Trying to keep him in one place when he wanted away would go nowhere useful.
The reverse, though ... well, no. Kazuo didn't precisely want away. It might have been useful to be able to get up for certain purposes, granted. But there was only one thing he actually needed to do.
Quietly, Kazuo worked his phone out of his pocket with his free hand; Izumi could hear his quiet side of the conversation with Mamoru, informing and reassuring him about the reasons for their absence and Izumi's condition. He left it out and in reach, just in case.
And then he sat quietly in one place, hand still serving as half-pillow for Izumi, for nearly two hours before he finally stretched out on top of the blankets. Moving would be enough to wake Izumi briefly, likely to elicit some snarl or complaint that'd show enough reasonable half-coherence that Kazuo could let him sleep again. All well.
He didn't sleep that night, himself. Keeping watch over the injured blond, in case some hidden manifestation of his injuries might crop up suddenly during the night. But spending those hours watching Izumi sleep, watching those beautiful features relax, considering the curl of his hair or his eyelashes, the structure and angle of his jaw beneath the distorting bruise...
No. He wouldn't trade that for mere practicalities, mere usefulness. And tired as he'd be the next day, he had no complaints at all.
(Serves you right.) ... WHO DID THIS TO YOU.
“Nobody worth talking about.”
It wasn’t like he’d seen their faces, and even if he had, asking for help by telling Kazuo wasn’t something he’d do.
radiantdark:
“They do. It’s well-equipped for papercuts.” Kazuo may perhaps also have been less than impressed with the hotel for that purpose. At least they’d had the chance to pick up some supplies along with the Tylenol.
Izumi’s sagging back was supported, small as it was. His freezing … that wasn’t permitted to alter the count. It might have been a good sign, or might have been a sign of disaster; Kazuo wasn’t the judge of personality that Izumi was, couldn’t read that clearly. He opted to stay his course either way.
He released the contact, lifted his head, but he was still close enough for his breath to be just perceptible. Stirring Izumi’s hair, mostly. A little against his skin. "Thought you could use something better to dream about.“
The breath against his neck made Izumi shudder, shifting with a quick little catlike twist of his whole body so he could hide his face against Kazuo’s chest, hands curling into the fabric of his shirt.
“Oh my god, Kazuo. I am going to murder you in your sleep one of these days for it.” The comment had none of the usual heat associated with Izumi truly angry, the threat made for the sake of making a threat, of saying something in the face of what was an obvious tease.
“How in the hell am I supposed to fall asleep when you’re doing things like that?”
Hands settled on Zoisite's back again, finding unbruised and unbandaged places by memory. Just support, now. "You were going to wind up murdering me in my sleep one way or another. It might as well be for something worthwhile."
It might as well be for something that might give Izumi pause tomorrow, before he slipped out of the house, medical issues or not, and went wherever it was he went this time. It might as well be for something that might trouble him sometimes, might make him wonder, when they went back to never speaking of it again.
They hadn't done that yet. So Kazuo pushed the thought away, and said instead, "That's why I stopped." If Izumi hit him for it, deservedly, at least the timing meant that he wouldn't be hitting all that hard.
(Serves you right.) ... WHO DID THIS TO YOU.
“Nobody worth talking about.”
It wasn’t like he’d seen their faces, and even if he had, asking for help by telling Kazuo wasn’t something he’d do.
radiantdark:
“So we’ll agree not to do anything either of us would regret, just now.” Kazuo lapsed into silence again with that, looking over cuts with a frown, then rising to fetch a couple of damp washcloths. Which shortly became ruined washcloths, or at least washcloths desperately in need of a great deal of bleach indeed. He didn’t mutter anything impolite or threatening at Izumi’s back, and didn’t tense or grow cold before taping a dressing in place. At least that probably meant that ‘scraped raw’ was more likely.
And when it was done, and when incidentally he knew the location of every cut, scrape, and bruise on the upper half of Izumi’s body, he fell still for a moment. Still settled behind Izumi. Fingertips still resting on a corner of the tape.
Then arms slid around Izumi from behind, careful about where the pressure of them fell. Kazuo leaned down a few inches, tilting his head to one side and nudging the temporarily half-untamed mass of Izumi’s hair out of the way with his cheek.
For three precisely-timed seconds, teeth found light purchase on the back of Izumi’s neck.
Either Kazuo had decided it was no longer ‘just now,’ or he’d decided he’d regret any vengeance less than he’d regret missing the opportunity.
“…For now,” Izumi agreed. Not only because it would hurt, but God (and several very disturbing, or disturbed physicians across the globe) knew if doing anything like that would make a concussion better, or worse.
While Izumi would have ordinarily complained loudly over minor wounds like this, when he was tending to them himself, it was different now. He was quiet and still, aside from a few hisses and winces as Kazuo cleaned him up. “I’m surprised the hotel doesn’t have some kind of first aid kit handy,” was his only true complaint, and that had more to do with finding the hotel lacking.
The embrace got a soft, amused sigh from Izumi, and he sagged fractionally until he felt teeth on the back of his neck. He froze, not even daring to breathe. It wasn’t that he disliked the sensation- far from it. He was just…
Well, shocked was a good word. Shocked was definitely one of the things he was “just” at that moment.
“Holy shit.”
"They do. It's well-equipped for papercuts." Kazuo may perhaps also have been less than impressed with the hotel for that purpose. At least they'd had the chance to pick up some supplies along with the Tylenol.
Izumi's sagging back was supported, small as it was. His freezing ... that wasn't permitted to alter the count. It might have been a good sign, or might have been a sign of disaster; Kazuo wasn't the judge of personality that Izumi was, couldn't read that clearly. He opted to stay his course either way.
He released the contact, lifted his head, but he was still close enough for his breath to be just perceptible. Stirring Izumi's hair, mostly. A little against his skin. "Thought you could use something better to dream about."
(Serves you right.) ... WHO DID THIS TO YOU.
“Nobody worth talking about.”
It wasn’t like he’d seen their faces, and even if he had, asking for help by telling Kazuo wasn’t something he’d do.
radiantdark:
“Of course I would. If I woke you up and you bit me, I’d know you were all right.” Kazuo refrained from tousling any part of Izumi’s hair, under the circumstances, but his answering tone mirrored enough of that affection all the same.
The last sentence, though. That –
His eyebrows twitched upward before he could control his reaction. Everything else he managed to catch and hold, at least for the time of a slow breath in and out.
“Maybe not while you’re still already bleeding,” he said then. But his eyes dropped from ‘looking at Izumi’ to ‘looking at Izumi’s throat.’ Not for long. Less than half a second before he shifted his weight and his hands, turning toward Izumi as well as he could while seated. “Let me help you with your shirt.”
Not a question. Not an offer. And while it could be attributed to taking care, his hands are slower than they might have been.
Izumi laughed at that comment, a small little chuckle full of amusement at the unvarnished truth of it all. It was true, very true that him being bitey and feisty were things that indicated ‘business as normal’. The affection returned to him just made that damned heat in his cheeks all the worse, but he had just been rather… unsubtle.
“Well, no shit. If you bit me right now I’d put my elbow in your crotch.” Still, Izumi placidly shifted into allowing Kazuo to pull his shirt off, knowing all too well how things could have gone if he hadn’t said that, how much more brisk, businesslike, and impersonal Kazuo could have been.
Of all of them, Kazuo was the one who could still be too-easily compared to unfeeling stone. For those that didn’t pay attention to the small things, he was too serious, too stern, too reserved by half to be anything but a statue imitating human life.
Those people, Izumi thought, were idiots.
"So we'll agree not to do anything either of us would regret, just now." Kazuo lapsed into silence again with that, looking over cuts with a frown, then rising to fetch a couple of damp washcloths. Which shortly became ruined washcloths, or at least washcloths desperately in need of a great deal of bleach indeed. He didn't mutter anything impolite or threatening at Izumi's back, and didn't tense or grow cold before taping a dressing in place. At least that probably meant that 'scraped raw' was more likely.
And when it was done, and when incidentally he knew the location of every cut, scrape, and bruise on the upper half of Izumi's body, he fell still for a moment. Still settled behind Izumi. Fingertips still resting on a corner of the tape.
Then arms slid around Izumi from behind, careful about where the pressure of them fell. Kazuo leaned down a few inches, tilting his head to one side and nudging the temporarily half-untamed mass of Izumi's hair out of the way with his cheek.
For three precisely-timed seconds, teeth found light purchase on the back of Izumi's neck.
Either Kazuo had decided it was no longer 'just now,' or he'd decided he'd regret any vengeance less than he'd regret missing the opportunity.
(Serves you right.) ... WHO DID THIS TO YOU.
“Nobody worth talking about.”
It wasn’t like he’d seen their faces, and even if he had, asking for help by telling Kazuo wasn’t something he’d do.
radiantdark:
Kazuo watched that smile, and watched a stolen moment after while Izumi’s eyes were closed, then glanced away to be able to focus again. Which meant that Izumi’s shift of position made itself into a pleasant surprise. His arm threaded itself halfway around Izumi again, purely for the sake of warmth this time.
“I can’t imagine why the everything else would be tiring you.” Kazuo leaned his head down toward Izumi’s. Not by much. An inch or two; a gesture toward closeness, that was all. “If you’re willing to stay awake long enough for us to make sure the cuts are clean, and ice your head a little more, you can sleep after that. I’ll stay awake to make sure you don’t have any other trouble.”
His other hand came around to brush a few stray strands of Izumi’s hair away from his face and eyes. “I won’t even ask you not to try to bite when I wake you up to check on you.”
“I think I can do that.” Granted, some of those cuts would require him shirtless to see to, but. “…As long as I don’t have to move much to take my shirt off.” The biggest spot of indeterminate ow was along his back, and it could either be a cut or just a really bad spot of being picked up and thrown, and being scraped raw as a result. With as foggy as his head was, he wasn’t going to take bets on it.
“If I bit you, you’d probably like it.” The tone was tired, if slightly affectionate, and Izumi flushed a little. No, Izumi hadn’t missed those subtle hints of behavior from Kazuo- it was practically the blond Shitennou’s job to notice the tiny things others never paid attention to. It didn’t help that the oldest of their number held a… similar fascination for Izumi. It was part of why the blond went to such great lengths to avoid spending any time alone with Kazuo in particular, after all.
The war going on in his skull was only making him more exhausted by the minute, the terrified urge to say nothing, to not act, to attempt to drive Kazuo away at odds with the urge to just let go of that, to say more than he had, and be honest for once in his life.
The part of his soul that was Zhuge Liang was definitely on the latter side; while lying to the enemy could be an amazing strategy, lying habitually to one’s allies was simply Not Done, for both reasons of honor and the fact that shared knowledge reduced the weakness of ignorance. “If you bit me, I know I’d like it.”
Goddamnit.
"Of course I would. If I woke you up and you bit me, I'd know you were all right." Kazuo refrained from tousling any part of Izumi's hair, under the circumstances, but his answering tone mirrored enough of that affection all the same.
The last sentence, though. That --
His eyebrows twitched upward before he could control his reaction. Everything else he managed to catch and hold, at least for the time of a slow breath in and out.
"Maybe not while you're still already bleeding," he said then. But his eyes dropped from 'looking at Izumi' to 'looking at Izumi's throat.' Not for long. Less than half a second before he shifted his weight and his hands, turning toward Izumi as well as he could while seated. "Let me help you with your shirt."
Not a question. Not an offer. And while it could be attributed to taking care, his hands are slower than they might have been.
(Serves you right.) ... WHO DID THIS TO YOU.
“Nobody worth talking about.”
It wasn’t like he’d seen their faces, and even if he had, asking for help by telling Kazuo wasn’t something he’d do.
radiantdark:
Well, he had in fact been kidnapped. It was only the clone business that was mildly unsettling. On the other hand –
– no, that was a topic Kazuo had decided not to think about while in Izumi’s actual presence. He’d keep to that.
He paced back to the bedside. Seated himself carefully, not letting any shift of weight be enough to jar Izumi. “It’s past betting. But it might not be that rattled. I hope not; we need someone clever enough to handle Masaru.” The tiny crease at the corners of his eyes confirmed the joke, but he kept an eye on Izumi’s reaction all the same, just in case. “I’ll stay to watch, though. Just in case. Is anything else worse than bruising?”
“I might be slow, but I have more than enough stored ammunition for dealing with Masaru.” Izumi smiled a little at Kazuo, crookedly. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, briefly. Though he really wanted sleep, and closing his eyes only exacerbated it, he took stock of his injuries instead.
“I have a few cuts and scratches on top of the bruises, and more than a few incredibly sore muscles, but other than that… No broken bones, no stab wounds, just a bunch of angry little shits getting as much revenge as their consciences can take.” Izumi opened his eyes, scooting closer to Kazuo and leaning against him.
“I am kind of tired though. Not sure if it’s the concussion, or the everything else.”
Kazuo watched that smile, and watched a stolen moment after while Izumi's eyes were closed, then glanced away to be able to focus again. Which meant that Izumi's shift of position made itself into a pleasant surprise. His arm threaded itself halfway around Izumi again, purely for the sake of warmth this time.
"I can't imagine why the everything else would be tiring you." Kazuo leaned his head down toward Izumi's. Not by much. An inch or two; a gesture toward closeness, that was all. "If you're willing to stay awake long enough for us to make sure the cuts are clean, and ice your head a little more, you can sleep after that. I'll stay awake to make sure you don't have any other trouble."
His other hand came around to brush a few stray strands of Izumi's hair away from his face and eyes. "I won't even ask you not to try to bite when I wake you up to check on you."
(Serves you right.) ... WHO DID THIS TO YOU.
“Nobody worth talking about.”
It wasn’t like he’d seen their faces, and even if he had, asking for help by telling Kazuo wasn’t something he’d do.
radiantdark:
For some reason, while Kazuo agreed to painkillers, aspirin was not on the menu. Something about not combining blood thinners and possible internal bleeding, for some reason. Spoilsport.
Tylenol, fortunately, was an entirely different matter. Something to wash the pills down, so that Izumi didn’t have to wait for them to stop? Also an entirely different matter.
Negotiating a room in a relatively inexpensive hotel not too far from home was complicated by Izumi’s state, but not impossible. The place proved to be compact and clean-to-the-point-of-sterile: white walls and white light, light grey upholstery, dark grey bedding, carpet sporting an oversized basketweave pattern of both. There were, perhaps alas for some of Izumi’s hopes, two beds; but both of them were large enough for two, and last-minute beggars can only be choosers when somewhat less concussed.
(Kazuo found the place remarkably easily, come to think of it. First one he tried, and right there on the route he picked. For some reason.)
The first thing Kazuo did on arrival was get Izumi settled. The second thing he did was dim the damn glaring lights.
(– didn’t have to look to find where to do it, either.)
Izumi was fine with Kazuo taking over for the hotel, and it really was a concession to the fact that he was concussed that he allowed Kazuo to get away with all this behavior, without analyzing it or giving Kazuo anything resembling a hard time over it.
It was as if he’d been kidnapped, and a much more agreeable, much more pliable clone had replaced him. The blond curled up against the head of the bed, blinking owlishly at Kazuo. “…So, what’s the bet on my brain being rattled?”
Well, he had in fact been kidnapped. It was only the clone business that was mildly unsettling. On the other hand --
-- no, that was a topic Kazuo had decided not to think about while in Izumi's actual presence. He'd keep to that.
He paced back to the bedside. Seated himself carefully, not letting any shift of weight be enough to jar Izumi. "It's past betting. But it might not be that rattled. I hope not; we need someone clever enough to handle Masaru." The tiny crease at the corners of his eyes confirmed the joke, but he kept an eye on Izumi's reaction all the same, just in case. "I'll stay to watch, though. Just in case. Is anything else worse than bruising?"
(Serves you right.) ... WHO DID THIS TO YOU.
“Nobody worth talking about.”
It wasn’t like he’d seen their faces, and even if he had, asking for help by telling Kazuo wasn’t something he’d do.
radiantdark:
“Somewhere that no-one is going to ‘accidentally’ bother you every ten minutes.”
There was very little ‘might’ about the likelihood of Izumi having a concussion, in Kazuo’s opinion. The question was only how much of one. But he was talking and answering, coherent and making sense; he was aware of how much he hurt; he was aware of things outside his skin, and responding to them. The dizziness wasn’t a good sign, but he was moving all right otherwise and his speech was clear. So the question, for Kazuo, was how well Izumi would do over the next few hours. Whether he’d get better or worse.
Moving him, of course, was officially contraindicated. But not moving him wasn’t an option. Especially if Izumi hurt enough that he was actually using the words 'thank you.’
“All right. Door’s ahead. Let’s get you some ice and somewhere to lie down.”
“Yeah, exactly.” The agreement was a small murmur, Izumi tightening his grip on Kazuo ever so slightly. “And something for my head?” Because he would literally gut a man and watch him bleed out slowly for some aspirin right now.
Izumi knew the dizziness was a bad sign, but at least Kazuo was here, and he privately thanked his attackers. In a perverse way, it gave him the opportunity to be close, without Kazuo getting any ideas about an ongoing relationship of any flavor.
He could- however temporarily- act without fear, and have it shrugged off thanks to the head injury.
“…Really, thank you.”
For some reason, while Kazuo agreed to painkillers, aspirin was not on the menu. Something about not combining blood thinners and possible internal bleeding, for some reason. Spoilsport.
Tylenol, fortunately, was an entirely different matter. Something to wash the pills down, so that Izumi didn't have to wait for them to stop? Also an entirely different matter.
Negotiating a room in a relatively inexpensive hotel not too far from home was complicated by Izumi's state, but not impossible. The place proved to be compact and clean-to-the-point-of-sterile: white walls and white light, light grey upholstery, dark grey bedding, carpet sporting an oversized basketweave pattern of both. There were, perhaps alas for some of Izumi's hopes, two beds; but both of them were large enough for two, and last-minute beggars can only be choosers when somewhat less concussed.
(Kazuo found the place remarkably easily, come to think of it. First one he tried, and right there on the route he picked. For some reason.)
The first thing Kazuo did on arrival was get Izumi settled. The second thing he did was dim the damn glaring lights.
(-- didn't have to look to find where to do it, either.)
(Serves you right.) ... WHO DID THIS TO YOU.
“Nobody worth talking about.”
It wasn’t like he’d seen their faces, and even if he had, asking for help by telling Kazuo wasn’t something he’d do.
radiantdark:
“Look on the bright side. If it’s Mamoru’s privilege, I can’t kill you over this first.” Kazuo threaded them through the door carefully. “We want to turn right. Stay close to me, though, there are missing floorboards on your left.”
It’s after the exciting hole in the floor and its still-more-exciting skittering noises have been navigated past that Kazuo adds, “If you’re not up to coping with him tonight, we can find somewhere to stay and I can make excuses. It’ll be worse if you put him off till morning, granted. But your head might be better.”
“Honestly, I think dying might be better than dealing with my head.” Izumi followed Kazuo’s lead with a thin, crooked smile. “…thank you, though.” The gratitude was whispery-soft.
“I think he’d understand if we slept somewhere else tonight, somewhere quieter.” Because his head was seriously going to kill him. Of all of his injuries, the headache was probably the worst. He wondered, briefly, if he might be concussed, but– there was no good way to check it until they got somewhere else.
"Somewhere that no-one is going to 'accidentally' bother you every ten minutes."
There was very little 'might' about the likelihood of Izumi having a concussion, in Kazuo's opinion. The question was only how much of one. But he was talking and answering, coherent and making sense; he was aware of how much he hurt; he was aware of things outside his skin, and responding to them. The dizziness wasn't a good sign, but he was moving all right otherwise and his speech was clear. So the question, for Kazuo, was how well Izumi would do over the next few hours. Whether he'd get better or worse.
Moving him, of course, was officially contraindicated. But not moving him wasn't an option. Especially if Izumi hurt enough that he was actually using the words 'thank you.'
"All right. Door's ahead. Let's get you some ice and somewhere to lie down."
(Serves you right.) ... WHO DID THIS TO YOU.
“Nobody worth talking about.”
It wasn’t like he’d seen their faces, and even if he had, asking for help by telling Kazuo wasn’t something he’d do.
radiantdark:
“I’d tell you just to rest, but we shouldn’t be here when they come back.” For the students’ sake, as far as Kazuo is concerned. But the chance that Izumi might be hurt further is a concern, too.
“One step at a time. I’ll guide you.”
It’d be more efficient to carry him, and faster. But Izumi’s pride’s taken enough of a battering today already.
Izumi nodded, wincing as he took a deep breath. “Thanks.” He was just going to pointedly not look at Kazuo. Instead, he focused on leaning against the taller Shitennou, not falling, and not aggravating any injuries.
“Mamoru is going to kill me over this, though.” Well, maybe not kill, but… he was certainly going to be unhappy. It was almost worth staying here over, if he was honest.
"Look on the bright side. If it's Mamoru's privilege, I can't kill you over this first." Kazuo threaded them through the door carefully. "We want to turn right. Stay close to me, though, there are missing floorboards on your left."
It's after the exciting hole in the floor and its still-more-exciting skittering noises have been navigated past that Kazuo adds, "If you're not up to coping with him tonight, we can find somewhere to stay and I can make excuses. It'll be worse if you put him off till morning, granted. But your head might be better."
(Serves you right.) ... WHO DID THIS TO YOU.
“Nobody worth talking about.”
It wasn’t like he’d seen their faces, and even if he had, asking for help by telling Kazuo wasn’t something he’d do.
radiantdark:
Remembered. Kazuo’s expression tightened almost imperceptibly, and he surrendered the thought of coming back and lying in wait. There were more immediate considerations anyhow.
Like taking a half-step closer to catch that wobble. His hand dropped from Izumi’s face to let his arm slide around slender shoulders. At least that way the pressure was distributed when he drew Izumi to lean against the solidity of Kazuo’s chest.
“Easy,” he said quietly. "We’ll take it slow.“
Izumi closed his eyes for a moment. As much as he wrestled with himself over leaning into Kazuo’s chest, it didn’t change the fact that he was too beaten- too off-balance- to refuse. Instead, he closed his eyes. It made his head throb less.
“…I guess we kind of have to, because of the state I’m in.”
"I'd tell you just to rest, but we shouldn't be here when they come back." For the students' sake, as far as Kazuo is concerned. But the chance that Izumi might be hurt further is a concern, too.
"One step at a time. I'll guide you."
It'd be more efficient to carry him, and faster. But Izumi's pride's taken enough of a battering today already.
(Serves you right.) ... WHO DID THIS TO YOU.
“Nobody worth talking about.”
It wasn’t like he’d seen their faces, and even if he had, asking for help by telling Kazuo wasn’t something he’d do.
radiantdark:
“No. But worth doing something about.”
Kazuo blocked the door open, then stepped inside, reaching to touch an unbruised place on Izumi’s cheek. 'Gentle’ was a word that applied to him about as often as ‘caught’ did to Izumi; apparently today was a day for all kinds of exceptions.
“Can you walk? Is anything broken?”
“I’m fine.” Izumi was kind of glad for the poor lighting. It hid the way his cheeks colored involuntarily at the touch, though perhaps not the heat from it. “It was just some people who… remembered.”
Juuban students, who were furious about the poor treatment they’d gotten at the hands of the Shitennou. About the only people Izumi would tolerate this kind of treatment from.
“I think I can-” Izumi stood, wobbling dangerously. His legs were fine, but standing made his head surge with pain.
Remembered. Kazuo's expression tightened almost imperceptibly, and he surrendered the thought of coming back and lying in wait. There were more immediate considerations anyhow.
Like taking a half-step closer to catch that wobble. His hand dropped from Izumi's face to let his arm slide around slender shoulders. At least that way the pressure was distributed when he drew Izumi to lean against the solidity of Kazuo's chest.
"Easy," he said quietly. "We'll take it slow."
