#orfcus

[arcanaveiled-blog]

orfcus replied to your post: B O O! little drunk children. Am I real or a...

!

woooOOOOOOOO!

[notyourprinccss-a]

      sighs, goes to erase whiteboard 

     “ 0 days since last kinkshaming minato ”

[perceptivis]

> @orfcus​

      There’s just something about this guy that seems... off. ( as if the blue hair wasn’t enough. ) He’s wearing the Kosei uniform that belongs to a third year, lugging a large instrument case behind him, but Shin’s positive he doesn’t recognize this kid ------ his own school is rivals with Kosei and Shujin both, and he’s never heard of anyone who fits this guy’s description... 

      But what catches Shin’s eye, above all else, is his face ------ no, his expression. Distant, detached; like he’s seen the worst that humanity had to offer, like he’s walked through hell and back to get to where he is right now, staring blankly at a map of the sprawling Tokyo subway. 

      And if any of the above had somehow escaped Shin’s notice ( as if it ever would, ) he might have given into the little part of his brain telling him that he has better things to be doing right now, that his time would be better spent going to get his study book than it would be helping out this lost-looking stranger, that people are so rarely worth the effort.... 

      With a long, inward sigh, he approaches. 

        ❥ - “Oi,” he greets. “Do you... need a hand? I can tell you how to get where you need to go if you’re confused.” 

[frizzyprison]

@orfcus ♡ ‘d

     one whom concurs their hardships has stepped into the realm of one who has yet to free them self  from the agony of man-made havoc. gaze darting in the direction of the other through the glass of his eye-wear skeptical of their exchanged gazes, a certain atmosphere fills the gap between the two boys; something strange comes this way. making an attempt to speak, akira clears his throat ❛    hello...     ❜

[beyondarrest-a]

Murmured into the crook of Katsuya's neck, in a voice both soft and laden with feeling: I love you; please don't go.

It's an alluring request when the day outside is a rainy one. The sunrise beyond their bedroom window is subdued by grey clouds, all smudged unevenly across the sky, and Katsuya already knows it's going to be cold out there, too.

The bed, on the other hand, is both warm and dry. Minato's body is an inviting fit for his arms, almost enough to dissuade Katsuya from attempting to untangle their sleep-slack limbs. If Katsuya didn't have subordinates expecting him, and terrible office coffee waiting for him, he might well be tempted into going back to sleep.

But as it stands, he can't justify skipping work simply because there’s an opportunity to bask in Minato's attention—a debate they've had numerous times already. This would be torturously endearing, if it was still the first time a half-asleep Minato had begged him to stay.

(And when Minato speaks, the sensation of warm breath across the nape of Katsuya's neck tickles. But he can't say that when Minato is baring both heart and soul, can he?)

As Katsuya smiles (partly into the pillow and partly into Minato's hair, long and soft, strewn strangely across their pillows), he idly wonders if this is going to become a part of his morning routine. That wouldn't be too terrible, he supposes.

[notyourprinccss-a]

      i’d like to be able to say that my brother was never that weird, but.... 

[beyondarrest-a]

Hey. I'm gonna hold your hand now.

"Eh? But we're..."

...in public, Katsuya wants to say, yet that description only goes so far. They might be outdoors but there's hardly anyone around, let alone awake at this hour. The street they're surveying is devoid of life and he supposes that's why Minato has been walking so closely to begin with.

Now that he thinks about it, was that intended to be a hint? He must have missed it, like he misses so many of Minato's overtures—even if there's little room for drawing innocent conclusions when their shoulders are knocking together. Greater still, Katsuya would be lying if he said he hadn't enjoyed the warmth from Minato's body. The smell of peach.

Katsuya had longed for such trivial things, in his period of being accustomed to life as a bachelor. To walk like this with someone in comfortable silence, or the natural soothing he draws from mere companionship, like ointment on a wound. He'd longed for the boyish opportunity to hold someone's hand and now that he has it, it's passing him by.

With a furtive glance to the pavement behind them (or, perhaps one that isn't quite as furtive as he'd like), Katsuya sets his nervous mind at ease, content there is no audience to draw a scandal from something soft. He looks straight ahead as he reaches for Minato's hand—threading his fingers through Minato's smoothly, gripping, but not hard enough to employ anything other than the slightest pressure.