[ ichiro isn't the only one thinking too much, isn't the only one nervous as fuck. samatoki's body language doesn't betray a single thing about how he's probably dying on the inside, but it's a lot more obvious in his eyes. the way he can't seem to look at ichiro directly, avoiding his gaze. ]
Sure. Go ahead.
[ it'll give him time to put together what he wants to say, so by all means. ]
[ he's running almost on pure bravado here, pure confidence. he's also kind of dying on the inside, and it's a little more obvious: he's latched onto that confidence that's led him from step to step in his life but his ears are bright red and he's trying to hold onto the last shred of his coolness. he's right. ichiro knows he's right.
ichiro knows samatoki likes him. that's what brought him to his doorstep today, in the middle of winter break, when he should be sleeping or enjoying time away from college life. even away from his roommate.
not. being away from samatoki has sucked. every minute of it just threw the fact that ichiro has been nursing a thing for him for months further into the light. he's going to take that wild bravado and run with it, now, so he takes a deep breath and spills it all out right there on the concrete between them. ] I don't know if you sampled it from yourself, or from the internet, or whatever, but it's called heartbeat for a reason. I know you called it that because you were trying to say something, but I think you wouldn't tell me about it because it's about us.
[ there. he doesn't feel fragile or anything having confessed it: he's fairly sure in the result he's going to get, too, and so ichiro keeps going, voice low, spurred on by his own thinking, starting to smile even if the color on his face is spreading to his cheeks. his heart's going so fast against his ribcage he can hear it rushing in his ears, but ichiro just takes that as motivation. time to go. ]
Samatoki, I--shit, man, I've liked you for so long I don't even know when it started. We've only been apart for like, three days, and I can barely stand it-- obviously. [ accompanied with a little huff of a laugh, because he is in fact laughing at himself for this ridiculous move that he just pulled. if he was wrong, it would've been mortifying. ]
So if I'm right, and it is you confessing, then I think you're a chicken-- [ another little laugh, and his smile's so wide he's got dimples, now, a little mischievous. ] --but I'll put the words to it, if you can't. I want to go out with you, I want to stay with you, I really want to kiss you. A lot. I don't have a mixtape, or anything like that, but--I want you to accept my feelings, anyway.
[ ichiro doesn't even offer an out, a "if you don't want to if you don't have to." he's as sure as ever.
[ samatoki feels like he should have seen this coming from miles away.
ichiro has always been the first between them to initiate anything, the type to run head first into trouble even if he can't see what's waiting for him at the end. the idiot calls it bravado, but samatoki would be the only one to call it cocky and stupid. this time, however, he can't really call it that; this time, it's just ichiro beating him to the punch. he thought he'd been so clever, putting together a mixtape with all the songs he'd worked on over the past school year just so ichiro wouldn't pick up on the fact that one song is supposed to be about them.
but of course ichiro had picked up on it. of course he figured it out, practically from day one. it's not like samatoki can really hide anything from the guy — not when he's able to read him like an open book. his thoughts and feelings laid out in the open, just as ichiro is doing the same with all of his.
he doesn't say anything for the longest time, too busy listening to his own heartbeat trying to rattle its way out of his own ribcage. it beats loud and fast, wild with the same emotions he tried to convey in one track. he doesn't think it would be enough, knows that ichiro deserves so much more than one song but he's never been good with words. he's spent his entire life keeping it all in more than spitting out what's on his mind, and that's always given him grief. he doesn't really want that to happen here.
not when this is the first time he's been so sure of something in his life.
he closes the gap between them, each step taken bring him closer and closer. close enough to reach out for ichiro's hand just so he place it on his chest, right on top of his heart. it beats even stronger now, probably out of fear, it's written all over the red hues of his eyes.
ichiro took the leap first — ]
... Had to jam a mic up my chest and neck, just so you could hear it. But it's all for you, Ichiro. [ here, his expression softens (and he doesn't know why his hand won't stop shaking). ] I made that song for you.
[ — and this is samatoki following right after him, just so he can catch up and pull him in for a kiss. ]
[ that pause is the longest one of ichiro's entire life. he's practically holding his breath, waiting, and in the end
he was right. ichiro likes being right, in general. it's been the reason for many dumb arguments with samatoki in the past (which style of rap is better, old school or new school; why his coffee with ten sugars is perfectly fine compared to samatoki's hipster pourover; the room temperature on the thermostat) but he's never been happier to be right in his entire life.
it's not so cliched as for there to be an upswell of music in the background or anything, but the butterflies are still there. they're maybe more of triumph than they are of being startled or in love, but ichiro can't help but start to smile as he finishes -- it's all for you, Ichiro--as he puts his hand to samatoki's chest.
ichiro's fingers curl in the fabric of his shirt, and he has to force himself to stop smiling long enough to kiss him back. it's soft but sure, just the press of their mouths together, and whatever he imagined this turning out like is nothing compared to the real thing. ichiro surges forward the bit between them and lets go of his shirt to cup his cheeks, instead, hold him there and savor the kiss, eyes fluttering shut immediately, heartbeat so quick in his chest it might match the song.
he holds it for a long moment, and only pulls back enough to smile at him in the space. it's not his usual, ear to ear grin: it's softer and warmer, something private and happy. nemu might kill them for being late for dinner, but right now he doesn't care. ] Then I'm definitely accepting your feelings. [ the response is a little cheesy, but he's giddy. ] And returning them. A lot. Fuck, I don't know how I'm gonna top that. You win.
[ he laughs, breathless, and ducks in to kiss him again, just because he can. ]
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o i didn't realize i swapped brackets oops
Sure. Go ahead.
[ it'll give him time to put together what he wants to say, so by all means. ]
u hipster with ur fancy brackets
ichiro knows samatoki likes him. that's what brought him to his doorstep today, in the middle of winter break, when he should be sleeping or enjoying time away from college life. even away from his roommate.
not. being away from samatoki has sucked. every minute of it just threw the fact that ichiro has been nursing a thing for him for months further into the light. he's going to take that wild bravado and run with it, now, so he takes a deep breath and spills it all out right there on the concrete between them. ] I don't know if you sampled it from yourself, or from the internet, or whatever, but it's called heartbeat for a reason. I know you called it that because you were trying to say something, but I think you wouldn't tell me about it because it's about us.
[ there. he doesn't feel fragile or anything having confessed it: he's fairly sure in the result he's going to get, too, and so ichiro keeps going, voice low, spurred on by his own thinking, starting to smile even if the color on his face is spreading to his cheeks. his heart's going so fast against his ribcage he can hear it rushing in his ears, but ichiro just takes that as motivation. time to go. ]
Samatoki, I--shit, man, I've liked you for so long I don't even know when it started. We've only been apart for like, three days, and I can barely stand it-- obviously. [ accompanied with a little huff of a laugh, because he is in fact laughing at himself for this ridiculous move that he just pulled. if he was wrong, it would've been mortifying. ]
So if I'm right, and it is you confessing, then I think you're a chicken-- [ another little laugh, and his smile's so wide he's got dimples, now, a little mischievous. ] --but I'll put the words to it, if you can't. I want to go out with you, I want to stay with you, I really want to kiss you. A lot. I don't have a mixtape, or anything like that, but--I want you to accept my feelings, anyway.
[ ichiro doesn't even offer an out, a "if you don't want to if you don't have to." he's as sure as ever.
(inwardly, he's flipping out too.) ]
no subject
ichiro has always been the first between them to initiate anything, the type to run head first into trouble even if he can't see what's waiting for him at the end. the idiot calls it bravado, but samatoki would be the only one to call it cocky and stupid. this time, however, he can't really call it that; this time, it's just ichiro beating him to the punch. he thought he'd been so clever, putting together a mixtape with all the songs he'd worked on over the past school year just so ichiro wouldn't pick up on the fact that one song is supposed to be about them.
but of course ichiro had picked up on it. of course he figured it out, practically from day one. it's not like samatoki can really hide anything from the guy — not when he's able to read him like an open book. his thoughts and feelings laid out in the open, just as ichiro is doing the same with all of his.
he doesn't say anything for the longest time, too busy listening to his own heartbeat trying to rattle its way out of his own ribcage. it beats loud and fast, wild with the same emotions he tried to convey in one track. he doesn't think it would be enough, knows that ichiro deserves so much more than one song but he's never been good with words. he's spent his entire life keeping it all in more than spitting out what's on his mind, and that's always given him grief. he doesn't really want that to happen here.
not when this is the first time he's been so sure of something in his life.
he closes the gap between them, each step taken bring him closer and closer. close enough to reach out for ichiro's hand just so he place it on his chest, right on top of his heart. it beats even stronger now, probably out of fear, it's written all over the red hues of his eyes.
ichiro took the leap first — ]
... Had to jam a mic up my chest and neck, just so you could hear it. But it's all for you, Ichiro. [ here, his expression softens (and he doesn't know why his hand won't stop shaking). ] I made that song for you.
[ — and this is samatoki following right after him, just so he can catch up and pull him in for a kiss. ]
no subject
he was right. ichiro likes being right, in general. it's been the reason for many dumb arguments with samatoki in the past (which style of rap is better, old school or new school; why his coffee with ten sugars is perfectly fine compared to samatoki's hipster pourover; the room temperature on the thermostat) but he's never been happier to be right in his entire life.
it's not so cliched as for there to be an upswell of music in the background or anything, but the butterflies are still there. they're maybe more of triumph than they are of being startled or in love, but ichiro can't help but start to smile as he finishes -- it's all for you, Ichiro--as he puts his hand to samatoki's chest.
ichiro's fingers curl in the fabric of his shirt, and he has to force himself to stop smiling long enough to kiss him back. it's soft but sure, just the press of their mouths together, and whatever he imagined this turning out like is nothing compared to the real thing. ichiro surges forward the bit between them and lets go of his shirt to cup his cheeks, instead, hold him there and savor the kiss, eyes fluttering shut immediately, heartbeat so quick in his chest it might match the song.
he holds it for a long moment, and only pulls back enough to smile at him in the space. it's not his usual, ear to ear grin: it's softer and warmer, something private and happy. nemu might kill them for being late for dinner, but right now he doesn't care. ] Then I'm definitely accepting your feelings. [ the response is a little cheesy, but he's giddy. ] And returning them. A lot. Fuck, I don't know how I'm gonna top that. You win.
[ he laughs, breathless, and ducks in to kiss him again, just because he can. ]