[ luckily (perhaps?) ichiro's mostly unaware of whatever affect he has on samatoki outside of the usual. sure, he knows samatoki likes him to some capacity, keeps him around even if he pretends he doesn't want to, and he knows the guy respects him and his rhymes, but that's as far as his bluster and confidence have taken him down that route. he knows he's built a place for himself next to him, though: nothing could take that away. (he thinks.) (he's not the kind of person who relies on hope, not now, so he refuses to think of a reality otherwise.)
from where he's settled, he can feel the rumble of samatoki's voice in his chest, deeper than his own. it's weirdly comforting, and he shuts his eyes again, squeezing them briefly to try and wake himself up properly. his arm stretches out just briefly over samatoki's back, energy moving all the way to his fingertips like a cat, before he settles back in, that touch of fingerprints on bare skin practically making sparks. if ichiro's the sun, then he's caught up in samatoki's orbit, too, just fine to circulate him and stay close to him, hanging off of his every single word. ]
[ now that he's awake, here, ichiro doesn't want to go back to sleep. he yawns, big and uncovered, and it eats the first few words of his sentence, as he tucks his face back into samatoki's neck, instead, fitting perfectly into the crook of his shoulder and neck and nuzzling in, a bit like a puppy. if samatoki's smiling, ichiro lets him have it, unnoticed, his own face hidden away as he talks quiet against his shoulder. ] ...Didn't mean to fall asleep. [ which is honest. ichiro was really going to try and wait for him to come home. ] What time is it?
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from where he's settled, he can feel the rumble of samatoki's voice in his chest, deeper than his own. it's weirdly comforting, and he shuts his eyes again, squeezing them briefly to try and wake himself up properly. his arm stretches out just briefly over samatoki's back, energy moving all the way to his fingertips like a cat, before he settles back in, that touch of fingerprints on bare skin practically making sparks. if ichiro's the sun, then he's caught up in samatoki's orbit, too, just fine to circulate him and stay close to him, hanging off of his every single word. ]
[ now that he's awake, here, ichiro doesn't want to go back to sleep. he yawns, big and uncovered, and it eats the first few words of his sentence, as he tucks his face back into samatoki's neck, instead, fitting perfectly into the crook of his shoulder and neck and nuzzling in, a bit like a puppy. if samatoki's smiling, ichiro lets him have it, unnoticed, his own face hidden away as he talks quiet against his shoulder. ] ...Didn't mean to fall asleep. [ which is honest. ichiro was really going to try and wait for him to come home. ] What time is it?
[ don't make him leave. ]