[ ichiro makes a decidedly uncool pleased noise in response to that last bit--he likes to think he's mad cool and badass and one of the youngest, toughest rappers their city's ever seen, but samatoki does definitely tend to turn him into a puppy. it's not his fault; from that first day, he thought samatoki was one of the coolest people he's ever met, and as he got to know him more, it just got worse.
they're not all that different. they both love music, their siblings, have a similar flow that makes them deadly with hypnosis mics in their hands. back when they first met, ichiro spent his time getting knocked down by wave after wave from mr. hardcore himself, but he refused to give up. even if it was one of the first time he's ever gotten his ass kicked in his life, ichiro kept coming back for more, wiping the blood from his mouth and spitting back until he could barely move. samatoki had looked at him with something like approval, and it was over. he was hooked.
so, it's mutual. ichiro's happy too, but he's honest with his emotions, more free, young and wild and reckless as he is. dating samatoki (if you can call it that; ichiro does, secretly, but he likes the taste of "partners" more than he likes "boyfriend", a nigh inseparable pair changing this world together) is careening off of a cliff at top speed, but god, at least he's enjoying every moment of the ride.
the tug closer is nice, too. samatoki's pretty warm for a guy who's cold all the time, and ichiro tucks in to him, nose rubbing against his collarbone because it's there, a space made just for him, a space he worked hard to earn as his own. ] Kay.
[ he settles there, eyes closed. it seems like ichiro's fallen asleep again, but, he changes his mind; ichiro shifts to press one hand against samatoki's chest, letting it rest there, and pushes himself up the small distance to press a soft, chaste kiss to his mouth. even close mouthed and sweet, it tastes a little like cigarette smoke. a little like his second home.
ichiro holds it for just a second, the contact brief, then drops back down into the pillows. (and maybe he'll be gruff at him for going for something childish like a goodnight kiss, but ichiro's pretty sure he could give samatoki a hundred goodnight kisses and it wouldn't be nearly enough for either of them.)
he sounds content, now, pleased, and shuts those mismatched, stop and go eyes. ] ....'night, Samatoki-san.
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they're not all that different. they both love music, their siblings, have a similar flow that makes them deadly with hypnosis mics in their hands. back when they first met, ichiro spent his time getting knocked down by wave after wave from mr. hardcore himself, but he refused to give up. even if it was one of the first time he's ever gotten his ass kicked in his life, ichiro kept coming back for more, wiping the blood from his mouth and spitting back until he could barely move. samatoki had looked at him with something like approval, and it was over. he was hooked.
so, it's mutual. ichiro's happy too, but he's honest with his emotions, more free, young and wild and reckless as he is. dating samatoki (if you can call it that; ichiro does, secretly, but he likes the taste of "partners" more than he likes "boyfriend", a nigh inseparable pair changing this world together) is careening off of a cliff at top speed, but god, at least he's enjoying every moment of the ride.
the tug closer is nice, too. samatoki's pretty warm for a guy who's cold all the time, and ichiro tucks in to him, nose rubbing against his collarbone because it's there, a space made just for him, a space he worked hard to earn as his own. ] Kay.
[ he settles there, eyes closed. it seems like ichiro's fallen asleep again, but, he changes his mind; ichiro shifts to press one hand against samatoki's chest, letting it rest there, and pushes himself up the small distance to press a soft, chaste kiss to his mouth. even close mouthed and sweet, it tastes a little like cigarette smoke. a little like his second home.
ichiro holds it for just a second, the contact brief, then drops back down into the pillows. (and maybe he'll be gruff at him for going for something childish like a goodnight kiss, but ichiro's pretty sure he could give samatoki a hundred goodnight kisses and it wouldn't be nearly enough for either of them.)
he sounds content, now, pleased, and shuts those mismatched, stop and go eyes. ] ....'night, Samatoki-san.