I’M SORRY MONSTER I ONLY HAVE THE SPOONS FOR ONE OF THESE….
send me a symbol for my muse’s reaction to… / accepting.
🌙 : seeing your muse outside alone during nighttime.
it’s the most tetsuo can do with his mother out of town for the week. just let the capsules stay at his place for a while, let them have decent food and a good place to sleep. so long as they don’t stink up the place when they smoke, leave garbage everywhere, and overall just keep it tidy to avoid leaving any evidence of their stay.
he left his room to head to the bathroom, had noticed that kaneda was missing from the spot he had claimed next to tetsuo ( always next to tetsuo, probably some instinctive protective thing ). of course he’s careful not to wake any of the other boys strewn across the floor as he creeps to the door, slides it open, and steps out.
quickly he does his business, washes his hands, and finds his way out into the living room. glances to the sleeping form of yamagata on the couch, carefully steps over the blanket-covered lump of kaisuke on the floor on the way to the glass doors leading to the balcony. a chill creeps in from the outside, the door not entirely shut. tetsuo doesn’t bother grabbing his hoodie, just nudges the door open slowly and steps out.
“it’s three in the morning. you needed a smoke that bad?” he mutters, settling his hands on the railing that kaneda leans his elbows on. the smell of tobacco reaches his nose, making it crinkle somewhat. sure, he indulges every now and then, but he enjoys not smelling like a damn chimney. “somethin’ on your mind?” he finally prods, once more. the older teen shifts, straightens up and glances to tetsuo. the way the moon illuminates his face, his eyes, it makes him look… different. older, somehow. but he still smiles the way he always does.
“not really. just couldn’t sleep,” it’s a lie. they both know that. kaneda knows that tetsuo knows. but he still says it. tetsuo doesn’t call him out for it. “why? were ya worried?” no response given, the younger just casts his gaze out over the quiet neighborhood—oddly quiet for neo-tokyo. a shiver creeps though his body as cold wind passes over them. kaneda remains undeterred, blows smoke from the corner of his lips, then shrugs off his jacket. it’s wrapped around tetsuo’s thin shoulders, the smaller teen then tucked comfortably against kaneda’s side.
he’s warm, tetsuo thinks, albeit with embarrassment. heat rushes to his face, he nearly yanks himself away with a protest, but chooses to remain there. if it makes kaneda happy, then he won’t complain. if it’ll ease kaneda’s worries—which are more plentiful than most may think—then he’ll root himself here, to be a pillar of support in whatever way he can.
