jikan_rpg | [closed] come home with me

Entry tags:

[closed] come home with me

⌛ Who: Scaramouche & Kazuha
⌛ What: Plum blossom date
⌛ When: Early February
⌛ Where: Wakayama
⌛ Warnings: Smooches finally, Smol naked idiots

[It's become commonplace for Scaramouche to find himself over at Kazuha's home, ever since the samurai had gotten one of his own. His visits so frequent, often spending the night, that he's begun leaving things there - no reason to carry them back and forth even if teleportation was something he was capable of. Given what had happened the past month sleeping isn't something he often allows himself when he does end up staying, though Kazuha has managed to get him to do so a few times. The concern of what would happen if he had another nightmare far too present in his thoughts most nights.

So when Kazuha asks him to visit he thinks nothing of it, the request to bring more makeup than what he had laying around the man's home only garnering slight suspicion. Not once since he's known the other Inazuman has he ever seen him wear any, so for the samurai to suddenly ask is odd. Perhaps he was going somewhere later in the day? The Harbinger can't think of much reason past that, though he can't see much reason why the man would suddenly need to wear any to begin with.

For once when he arrives at the small village in Wakayama he doesn't immediately busy himself with climbing the tree in Kazuha's yard to enter through the window. For once he knocks like a normal person, waits patiently for Kazuha to open the door and let him inside. The neighbours are likely staring from that fact alone, though he doesn't bother looking back to see.

He takes a moment to slip his zori off, before turning pointedly towards the samurai. Hair recently cut, drawing all the more attention to the gaze he has fixed on the samurai.]

Since when do you wear makeup?

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[It's a fair point to raise, that Kazuha's happiness would mean they should be happy in return, glad that he's found something to bring him some modicum of joy. Though Scaramouche hasn't had many friends that he can believe that's precisely how things would play out if the samurai did chose to act overly smitten with him around his friends. Perhaps if it were someone else, not a know Harbinger.

Not something to dwell on now or ever. What did he care for what the other Inazuman's friends thought of him.

There's far more pressing things to allow his mind to focus on - the over indulgent words Kazuha puts forth of how he feels about him. How the man's far too heightened senses let him know when he's coming, where he's been. The little things he's noticed about him and the aspects of him most would not find favourable. All said far too fondly, too sentimental, though affection he'd left space to hear, the mortal doing exactly as he asked.

The smile on his face grows a little stronger, leaning in impossibly closer that even the slightest tilt would cause their lips to brush.]

Do words like that often get you what you want?

[His gaze shifts up to look at the samurai proper - focusing on this, as they are now makes it easier to breathe. Forget his worries. Hearing how the man desires his presence, how it's not his looks responsible as it so often is when people take interest in him. It makes him feel warm, not that he'd ever say such a thing.]

Because honestly Kazuha, I've yet to be wooed.

[Despite the fact they had just been kissing, as Scaramouche leans in he feels his heartbeat quickening in his chest. I makes his stomach flutter, excited for affection, even when he should know better when he sees that devilish little smile on the immortal's face. The pleased, light smile on his own face falls as the other draws away, and he lets out a punished sigh.]

Ah, what happened to the cute Scaramouche that was kissing me so hard I almost died?

['Almost died' is an exaggeration. Kazuha thinks he's being cute, teasing him back like that. He thinks if he wanted, he could probably just tip the other man over back onto the ground. Playfully, he tests this theory, loosening his hands to take away the other man's support in his lap, but he slips his hands back around him before he can drop far.

He dips his head, looking at him through the curtain of pale lashes and white hair, his ruby eyes wanting and warm. Kazuha leans in, nosing against his cheek, and then places a soft little kiss there.]

Hard to impress... I'm just a modest ronin. You're making do so much work.

[Scaramouche can't help the laugh that escapes him as the samurai lets out a sigh, entertained by just how simple it is to tease him. That the man desires the touch of his lips enough to be disappointed. He doesn't know how long he'll manage to hold back himself if Kazuha continues to request his affections, but teasing comes almost as easily as being cruel.]

So I'm only cute if I'm kissing you? Maybe I should have killed you.

[Their first kiss or rather kisses had been somewhat of a mess of emotions, the immortal's mind trying to work through things he never thought he would have needed to even consider. That intense need has settled since, the more serious conversation following it having helped in those matters, though the feeling not quelled entirely.

A warning glance is cast towards the samurai as he finds himself slipping back, only to be caught a moment later. Arms slip back around Kazuha's neck as a means to anchor himself from any further retaliation.]

If I had no standards you would have lost your chance with me long ago.

[As Scaramouche wasn't going to give into his begging for kisses again, at least not right now, Kazuha pulls the other man forward as he slips his arms around his neck. He sets his chin down on his shoulder, his arms laced around him in a loose hug. He hums, his hands petting the immortal's back. ]

You've only been my boyfriend for twenty minutes and you're already wishing me dead?

[He turns his head, pressing a kiss to the shell of the other Inazuman's ear. If he wouldn't kiss him, then he'd get his fill pressing kisses to his skin instead. Kazuha is generally warm, but his displays of affection were usually much more subdued; that the desire to kiss, hold, and touch the other hasn't quelled for him just speaks for the excitement still coursing through his nervous system.

He laughs a little, light and airy, and then finally relents in his endless affection again.]

You think so? Or maybe we would have gotten here sooner.

I think it would be a justified death, but are you saying you wouldn't like to die from kissing me? Make up your mind.

[Could someone even be killed in such a manner? Scaramouche thinks not. Even with the samurai's need to breathe where he had no such limitations, he can't imagine actual harm coming from the act unless he was actually attempting to do so - something so far from his thoughts. And as the other Inazuman said, they've only been in a relationship for such a short time, would be quite a shame to end it so soon.

Boyfriends. It makes him smile hearing it, feeling wanted.

It's concerning at just how easily he slips into a state of comfort, pulled close as Kazuha runs a hand against his back. As he kisses his ear, drawing a content sigh out of him, and the immortal finds himself gently tugging at stray hair no longer bound into the bun. He holds no qualms, no interest in the samurai ever stopping his little bouts of affection.]

That depends. Would you have done anything differently?

[Scaramouche can't see himself noticing Kazuha's flirting, the man's attempts to attract his attention if he'd done things the same way. It wasn't as though it had been his standards stopping them from this before, more confusing emotions and little idea that he was cared about in such a way. He knows now because the samurai finally decided to take his chances, had he not he doesn't doubt that he would still be unaware of the feelings towards him.

Friendship was new and confusing, attraction and want even more so, Kazuha's subtlety only helping to mask it all.]

[The smile on Scaramouche's face easily draws a returning one from the samurai. He often smiles, but the one he turns on the other Inazuman is warm, adoring. He's happy to see him in a more pleasant mood than before-- though he'll deal with emotionally unpacking everything.]

It might be the most pleasant death I could ask for, but perhaps we should wait on that, don't you think?

[There's mud on Scaramouche's kimono, and he tries flecking some of it off as he considers the question. Had the immortal's standards been lower, would he have missed his chance entirely? Kazuha imagines the whole reason why he had to work so hard for the other man's affections was due to this.

A few more strands fall loose from his bun as his hair is played with again, and he gives Scaramouche a fond sigh. All that work into impressing him... At least it seems to have paid off.]

I might have thought you interested sooner. I wasn't even sure even this morning.

[Kazuha had said as much to Scaramouche as they'd gotten changed. There had been no intimacy between them, and with the doll's skittishness regarding close relationships, he had still thought there was a good chance it would end poorly.

He leans in, nuzzling his nose into Scaramouche's neck.]

I'm glad I took a-- [He cuts himself off, listening for a moment. He thought he heard a scuff of feet, and after a moment, he is certain it's someone else walking along the path.]

There is someone coming this way.

[Kazuha has a point, even if it was all just teasing, the samurai's demise to affection could wait until a later time. Not now when things were still so new, not even having any time to adjust and process the weight of it all. There's a change in the way the other Inazuman smiles at him, one he'd certainly like to see more of.

The samurai lives - from this particular teasing - for now.]

I suppose I'd like to have you for longer than a few minutes.

[Eyes shut as the samurai pushes into his neck, Scaramouche taking a moment to simply soak in the small acts of affection, the uncertainties that both of them shared though far more pronounced on Kazuha's end. It's interesting to hear about just how long the other man has liked him, has been trying to catch his attention. More so that he would go out of his way to ensure that his confession met to standards he believed he would prefer.

While the immortal can't say for sure, had things been different on his end, if he would have noticed sooner he still doesn't think so. As he considers for a moment longer he allows himself to tug free some more strands of white hair, the samurai's tidiness long past.]

Perhaps. I could easily have become interested in someone else, but it's hardly my standards that stopped my notice. You meet them normally. That you would go through all of this effort for me... Well, they may be higher now.

[They definitely endeared Kazuha to him more, though he doesn't expect this kind of treatment all the time - a relationship or not. Higher standards in certain situations. Higher standards that he likely would forget with how the mortal has carved out a place in his life, essentially forcing Scaramouche to craft ones based around him as they began to grow closer.

The mention of someone coming up the path has Scaramouche heaving a sigh, reluctantly pulling his hands away as he leans back enough to push himself free from Kazuha's hold and slide out of his lap. He knows they no longer look their best, hair out of place, covered in dirt. All that before the mark the samurai had decided to place on him. This wasn't something they could hide, but he has little intent of putting on a show for any of the neighbours - even if they all seemed to know what Kazuha had taken him out for.]

Very well. Think they'll notice anything happened?

[Despite the immortal's long lifespan, Kazuha is fairly confident that he has more relationship experience to him. He doesn't even have much himself, but the timidness in which Scaramouche had approached any close connection makes him think so. And yet, this is still so new to the young Kaedehara too--]

Are you certain they aren't actually low then? [A small tease, at his own expense.]

[The loss of the other man's weight and warmth makes him miss it already, but being caught as they had been might have been worse. As Scaramouche moves away, the samurai's eyes travel his body from head to toe, settling eventually on the cherry mark he left on the other's neck. He smiles, though a pink blush warms his cheeks.]

Oh. Definitely.

[He tilts his head, loose hair slipping down his shoulder, his smile impish and not the least bit sorry.]

We're dirty, it's very suspicious. However, it could be worse.

[They could have gotten far messier.

Kazuha can't resist; as he shifts to get his feet under him, he briefly, leans forward, touching Scaramouche's cheek and turning his head so he can steal a kiss from his lips by pure element of surprise. He pulls back, chuckling to himself, his eyes narrowed with pleasure and delight.]

Would you like to go home now, or sit longer under the trees?

[The idea that Scaramouche's standards are lower than he thinks pulls a laugh out of him, not something entirely impossible but certainly unlikely. Despite the samurai's jab at himself, the immortal doesn't believe they could be particularly low when he actually considers for even a moment on why he enjoys Kazuha's company.

For all the years he's been without actual friends it should be clear enough that he's picky - even if people don't tend to find his personality palatable enough to attempt to befriend him.]

Oh? Should I find someone else then? Maintain my appearance so your simple lifestyle doesn't pull me down.

[It's not something he'd actually consider, given how closed off he still is when it comes to interacting with others, nor does he have any issues with how the other Inazuman chooses to live. It's reminiscent of his own past, and the people he grew up with. Comforting without intending to be.

Scaramouche's face scrunches up as Kazuha manages to catch him in a kiss as he gets to his feet, sending an annoyed glance the man's way as he straightens out his kimono. What good was teasing the samurai with no kisses if he could simply steal them so easily? It makes him want more, something he can't take for himself at the moment - not with someone else heading towards the trees.]

How could it possibly be worse?

[There's little time taken to consider the question, the immortal holding out his hand as he's come to do the past couple months. There's something more demanding about it this time, less expectant. There's still far too mud on him, but it doesn't seem worth it to spend time trying to pick off more.

The sooner they get back to Kazuha's home the sooner he can change out of the clothes and focus on what he wants without the concern of anyone interrupting them.]

Home. I'm too distracted to enjoy the trees.

[The kiss was worth the irritated look that the other Inazuman shoots his way. It's punishment, at least, for denying him more kisses when they had the privacy to do so. For now, he's satisfaction with the knowledge that if Scaramouche wants any more, that he has to suffer and wait.

His smile is big and bright.]

My boyfriend is bullying me. All this talk of killing me, replacing me...

[At the very least, it's pretty clear he doesn't think Scaramouche is serious. Kazuha just slips his foot back into his lost shoe, but the state of his appearance was a bit... beyond tidying at this point. He'd born the brunt of the fall, his clothes covered in dirt, his hair disheveled, his kimono pulled slightly open. There's the hint of pale muscle beneath the folds.

He takes a moment to tuck the folds of his kimono a little bit more closed, then slips his hand into the other man's hold. Even this affection is something he rarely would offer another in public, even if Scaramouche has been largely ignorant to that. His cheeks hold a rosy blush as he pulls the other back up and along the path.]

Well, we could have been doing something a little more rigorous.

[He chuckles lightly, teasing his new boyfriend a little bit again. He spots the small bakeneko farmer as they come up over the hill, their paths crossing in opposite direction. The yokai eyes them suspiciously, taking in their state, though Kazuha ignores any strange look and instead just bows his head politely as they pass.

`Good afternoon!` he says cheerfully, then steps just a little bit quicker afterwards.]

[The amount of enjoyment the mortal seems to take from teasing him is something he'll have to get used to, being a minor annoyance but not enough for it to make Scaramouche want to push him away. It wasn't the first time Kazuha's teased him, though it stands out more than previous interactions - likely because he's teasing back himself.

It has its charms to it, not that he'll ever admit to it.]

All deserved. I agree to be in my first relationship and am met with countless demands.

[Scaramouche watches as the samurai fixes himself up slightly, noting how it makes little difference, he still looks a complete mess. Nothing that can be done about it, Kazuha was right in saying the neighbours would notice, even if not by his own state but the other Inazuman's. They're completely dishevelled, as though they were attacked and went sliding down the muddy hill. If it weren't for the evidence on his neck perhaps they could pass it off as simply a misstep and fall.

It takes a moment for the immortal to determine what they could have been doing that would be considered far worse than what they'd done, eyes narrowing as colour tips his ears and they pass by the small bakeneko along the path.

Just what had Kazuha been expecting from his confession?

Once he feels they're out of earshot he speaks up again, tightening his hold against the other man's hand.]

More? You should be so lucky.

[Perhaps Scaramouche dropped that bit of information on purpose to see Kazuha's reaction. The samurai isn't certain he's thought that far ahead, and honestly he feels like he might explode holding in his reaction while they were still close by his neighbor.

The stars that dot his hair, having grown far more numerous, begin to twinkle. They glitter against his hair, bright like the sun was reflecting off them like dozens of little mirrors. His hand tightens back in their grip and once they were passed, the samurai lets out an airy laugh.]

Your first? [It's not even really so much of a question other than a giddy little statement. He knows the immortal is old, so he had no such hopes to be the other man's first anything, and securing that makes him swell with a bit of possessive pride.]

Ah, I'm very lucky my boyfriend is so cute when he blushes.

[It's fairly clear with the repetitiveness what Kazuha was doing-- he was hammering what he wants from Scaramouche, from their relationship, in harder so that the immortal is made to think more on it. Maybe, just a little, he was also taking pleasure in saying it. His boyfriend.

He tosses him a brilliant smile again.]

What do you want to do when we get home?

It's not that surprising is it?

[The way Kazuha laughs, sounds excited about such a simple fact, holds some charm to it. He recalls the conversation they had about love, mentioning that he'd never experienced it before, didn't know what it felt like - he still doesn't know. That he's never been in a relationship should be a fact the samurai knows, because why bother with one when he didn't allow himself to grow close to people.

Things were different now, he was allowing himself to trust another again. This was possibly the most vulnerable he's been with someone in a long time, if not already the most. Something he hopes to not regret, hopes that the warnings don't mean he should never be close to another again. Never trust again.

The way the stars light up in the mortal's white hair, the way he squeezes his hand back, gives Scaramouche some reassurance that he's making the right choice. He won't regret this because Kazuha has no intention of hurting him, the other Inazuman won't just decide this was a mistake, and he can want something more than just the one thing he's been looking for his entire life.

That he keeps referring to him as his boyfriend - something entirely true now he realizes - only adds to that reassurance, keeping his face warm. He was Kazuha's just as much as the man was his. If the immortal could keep his focus the next few days as the weight of that settled he would be lucky.]

Ugh... your boyfriend is going to hit you if you don't stop.

[Has he ever been this red before? He can't see himself, but if it was something being pointed out specifically he can only imagine it's noticeable enough. Was he even capable of being embarrassed? Was that what this was?

The question thankfully pulls his mind away from such thoughts, shifting it towards something he would consider far more important that what he may or may not feel. It's a question that's simple enough to answer, he already knows the first thing he'd like to do once they return to the samurai's home, a soft smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.]

Change. Possibly a bath - you've made a mess of me. I thought you stronger, but I suppose that explains why you were so easy to beat all those months ago.

I just didn't think I'd have more experience.

[Kazuha is a young mortal and one that has wandered the lands for some years now; he hasn't had much experience with relationships and he had only lost his virginity just before the Vision Hunt Decree. Reflecting on it, Scaramouche would have likely been his first boyfriend, if Diluc hadn't asked him just a few weeks prior.

A thing he thinks he shouldn't share with his new chosen partner.

Instead the samurai chuckles playfully at the other Inazuman's light threat, his eyes closing slightly as they do when his spirit is feeling light and his laughter is airy. He has no intentions to ever stop teasing him-- he does it out of affection, to see him wither a little at his poetry. He likes those things about Scaramouche.]

I could easily catch you in my arms. I didn't expect you to attack me so viciously, though. My lips might be somewhat bruised. It's a shame the kimono I just got you is so dirty though...

[He tilts his head as he looks back over at him, his smile a little more sly now.]

Do you want help?

You didn't think you would have more experience in a relationship? Yet you know I don't make friends.

[It's something that they've talked about before, something the samurai had unfortunately experienced first hand when he had attempted to distance himself from him. Friendship was a rarity, especially the past few years, and a relationship was completely unheard of. The immortal has no heart, doesn't think himself capable of feeling the love that is so often the focal point of a romantic relationship - that he's trying now only speaks to the many things he wants and is denied because of his creation. Of how important Kazuha has become to him.

Scaramouche finds himself lost for a moment in the way the mortal's eyes squint as he laughs, how pleased the man seems with himself and the situation. He isn't sure he's ever seen the samurai so at ease before, seeming so unburdened that the immortal almost trips before he pries his attention back to the path in front of them.

There's no doubt in his mind that Kazuha would be capable of catching him, with how easily he tended to lift and move him around, had he of course expected the kiss and just how much force Scaramouche had placed behind it. That the other Inazuman sees fit to call it an attack amuses him.]

Attack? After what you've done to my neck, you should hope bruised is all they stay.

[A few more maples spring to life in his hair as the other man fully admits to getting the kimono for him. While it wasn't really in question if it had been or not - Kazuha had obviously purchased it for him - to hear him say it rather than imply he might have, due to the immortal's scolding, sends a certain warmth through him.

Dirty or not, the immortal can't find himself to be all that bothered, too preoccupied with other thoughts and the knowledge that soon he would strip himself of it and get cleaned up. The kimono could clean, and he thinks he ought to wear it again for Kazuha without getting it caked in dirt. Something to plan later, when his head wasn't swimming. When the fact that he was the samurai's boyfriend had fully settled.]

Oh, so you admit you bought it for me. How do I compare with your fantasies of me then? Do I live up to all your expectations?

[The immortal chuckles, returning the smile with a mischievous one of his own.]

I suppose I could do with a little help.

Hmm.

[Kazuha only offers a thoughtful hum at that. It seemed a lonely existence; the time he's spent wandering himself lonliness has found its way to worm into his heart at times. Maybe not so much anymore, surrounded by people who love him. He hopes to make Scaramouche feel loved as well. He thinks he's made a good step in the right direction for that.

The slight stumble isn't unnoticed, though Kazuha carries on as normal. Part of him is tempted to slip his arm around the other man's waist instead of just in his hand, though he's far more polite and proper for that. Still, he can't help leaning closer to Scaramouche, his voice low and a foxish smile on his face.]

I will do that to more than just your neck.

[The immortal has a whole body for him to mark. Kazuha intends to take things slower and stay to more innocent locations, though just the thought of seeing his bruises on the puppet's inner thighs makes his head feel light. He picks up the speed of his step, wanting the privacy of spending his day alone with his new partner as soon as possible.]

A small fib or avoidance of the truth, that's all. But you are very beautiful in anything you wear, or wearing nothing at all.

[Avoidance of the truth, huh? He's sidestepped that question a little.]

I'm quite dirty too, now. All that hard work just gone in an instant. It would make sense to bathe together, wouldn't it?

[The heat that colours his face feels as though it will never leave as the other Inazuman leans closer, as he comments on his plans to leave more than just the single mark he's currently marred the immortal's skin with. It's something he would never normally allow, would be all too quick to berate or strike anyone that thought they could show claim of him in such a way. He's allowed one, finds he's not really bothered by it save for the location chosen, doesn't think he would be all that bothered if the samurai were to place more. Preferably in a less visible location.

That strange feeling of being wanted. Of Kazuha confirming that he's his.

Still Scaramouche lets out a breath, a particularly large maple nestling in with the smaller ones. He'd only just agreed to a relationship, some attempt at pacing himself would benefit him.]

All of Nippon hardly needs to know I have a boyfriend, Kazuha. You'll be lucky if you manage a second.

[The new pace to their steps speaks to how excitable the mortal is with the events, clearly wishing to rush home sooner and he can't say he blames him. There's the desire to pull him in for another kiss, something he has to save until they're behind closed doors. He's all too pleased to pick up his step and rush down the path.

Kazuha avoids most of his question, but it's only a slight disappointment, having asked simply to tease him. The compliments more than make up for it.]

So you admit to staring at me as well. And it was my hard work, if I wished to ruin it there's nothing you could do. But you're right, it would make sense. Get you cleaned up at the same time so we can move onto other things.

Edited 2022-03-30 07:51 (UTC)

[The large maple that blossoms in Scaramouche's hair gives him away, but Kazuha feigns consideration and pensiveness, his brow knitting and his lips pursing. He never puts that much expressiveness into genuine feelings, so it's fairly clear he's acting for the sake of teasing his partner some more.]

Ah, you really don't like it... Are you embarrassed of me?

[At the very least, Kazuha is pleased that his partner is likeminded with him about their views on the privacy of affection and intimacy. That he holds the other Inazuman's hand so much as they walk together often is already volumes more open than he usually would be.

He's pulling Scaramouche along so quickly now that the bakeneko neighbors that had observed them going by earlier -- and sent their child to give them onigiri -- barely have the time to wave them by. He would have to thank them later for the generous gift, and the good luck, after he's had his fill and the excitement had waned some. For now, the Inazuman has his full attention.]

Hmm, not at first, no. [He does recall the first time he saw Scaramouche naked, his eyes kept firmly above the waist as he helped him dress. He was beautiful then, but he wasn't attracted to him yet.] But eventually it became difficult not to look. Did you not notice?

[He does chuckle a little.]

I suppose those terms are fair. You did the work, so you are entitled to destroy it too. I'm sorry, though. Maybe you would have enjoyed it more if you had known it was-- [His brain catches up.] Other things?

[Scaramouche has never been particularly good at reading Kazuha - the samurai's expressions often never shifting enough, his tone staying level, that it's been difficult to know just what it is he feels or thinks. His smile that masks just about everything. To suddenly see so much on his face stands out, is much easier to read, yet isn't like the man at all.

It takes a moment longer for it to register in the immortal's mind that his boyfriend isn't being honest with the expression painting his face. That he's being teased and Kazuha doesn't actually think him embarrassed.

Or at least that's what Scaramouche thinks is happening.]

Have you listened to yourself before? You're incredibly embarrassing.

[His hand tightens against the mortal's as they rush a little faster down the path and past the neighbours, their idle chatty keeping his attention from even looking towards the bakeneko. Had he noticed Kazuha staring at him? Once or twice when he was busy with other things he might have, though when he needs to dress the samurai's certainly not looked long enough for any particular instance to come to mind.]

I've seen you spare me a glance on occasion, but you hardly stare like others tend to.

[Unlike others he's dealt with in his life, Kazuha is polite, does little that could possibly offend. Scaramouche imagines it's what his upbringing instilled in him. The other Inazuman is also a vagrant, another wanderer, and must be accustomed to things like bath houses and the like. That when he changes there's little reason to look, as though he were some sheltered youth having never seen another body before. Staring or not, the immortal wouldn't care, didn't when they'd first met and been forced into clothes for that stupid calendar.

The immortal opens his mouth, ready to explain that he enjoyed it just fine, that they can always do it again if there's truly any concern. Kazuha had done this for him, gotten him to do most of the work in preparing the samurai, but that he even considered wanting to look his best means more than how long his appearance lasted. Means more than him not originally knowing what it had all been for. Something he's ready to tell him when the mortal shifts the conversation slightly.]

Yes.

[A prefect explanation of 'other things'.]

[It seems his boyfriend is learning some. Good, it did take him quite a bit of time. Their struggle to understand each other has made their relationship an uphill battle for both of them-- it's a wonder they'd even gotten this far. It's like destiny had pulled them together regardless.]

I suppose it would be humiliating to be my boyfriend. I'm just a poor ronin with his head in the clouds, after all.

[Staring is hardly polite, and not really something that Kazuha needs to do anyway. His hearing tells him far more than his sight ever does, even if he loves to look at his boyfriend. He looks at him far more than he does most, but it's not just because the immortal is inhumanly beautiful.]

You underestimate how much attention I pay to you, though.

[Kazuha smiles to himself, their home in sight now down the road. His face itches, and idly he raises a hand to rub against his eye, forgetting the makeup and smearing it before he remembers and pulls his hand away to see the red powder against the back of his hand. Whoops.]

Haha, I suppose we have lunch.

[He's still teasing. Though if Scaramouche had any desires for the day, he was happy to indulge whatever he wanted.]

I suppose you're right, you do make my standards look incredibly low.

[As though the immortal cared for what others thought of him, or who he chooses to spend his time with. The lack of any further changes in expression makes him think he was correct in his assumptions, that Kazuha was simply teasing. The Inazuman doesn't sound upset at the very least, so it feels acceptable to continue to tease back.

To hear that the samurai pays him more attention that the few glances he's seen on rare occasion comes as a bit of a surprise. Scaramouche knows he has Kazuha's attention when they study together, or when having a conversation, but past that he would expect the man to be in his own thoughts - have his focus elsewhere. They've spent plenty of time in each other's company doing their own thing, relaxing, that he doesn't really know where this supposed attention would be placed.]

Oh? Care to elaborate?

[The immortal can't hold back a laugh as the samurai smears his makeup, a streak of red trailing from his eye. Had this been before their walk Scaramouche would have been irritated at the sight, but knowing that not only had Kazuha dressed up just for him but also that they were almost home to clean up, alleviates any ire and morphs it into amusement at how ridiculous a sight it is.

He can't help but lean over as they walk, rubbing at the red smear under the mortal's eye.]

You really can't keep yourself from becoming a mess, can you.

[Kazuha has learned over the course of their relationship that Scaramouche doesn't appear to notice interest in him beyond a transactional sense. Having to gotten to know him better, he hardly thinks it's due to a preference, and more that the immortal was absorbed in his own thoughts and goals. Was it that he only noticed those who had hunger in their eyes?

Although there's little height difference between them, Kazuha dips his head towards Scaramouche's hand as he reaches to rub his face, smile on his lips as he keeps his eyes on the road for them.]

Does it all have to be with my eyes? The gods have blessed me, though my vision is my worst sense. I pay attention to the things you enjoy, your mannerisms.

[He laughs, resisting the urge to rub at his eye again when his boyfriend has pulled away, his eye instead blinking a few times from itchiness. He's not certain how Scaramouche does this every day.]

I'm admittedly not used to anything on my face except water or blood.

[The slight dip is appreciated as Scaramouche gently wipes off some of the smeared makeup, thumb coloured red as he pulls it back and rubs it against a finger. Perhaps he should look into other types of makeup if Kazuha wish to use his again. Where it doesn't bother him, far too many years using various types, his current selection in Nippon irritates the mortal in some sense.

It's a good thing all he put on was eyeliner.

The immortal smiles as he turns his attention from the red now on his hand, back towards his boyfriend. It's barely helped any, but they're almost at the door to the other Inazuman's home.]

Rather difficult for me to notice if it's more than just your sight. You're saying you hear everything I do. Or smell.

[The strangest senses that he sometimes has to remind himself Kazuha has. That he can hear when he's coming, smell him on the wind. It's ridiculous, but he knows it's true. That the man can use those heightened senses to pay more attention to him is something he can see, given the idea some thought. Curious to what it must be like, sensing his every movement without ever needing to look at him.

Blood is an interesting mention, pulling a small look of surprise onto the immortal's face. He knows the man is a samurai, that he's been in many battles and is competent in them. Bloodshed is something he should be more than familiar with even given his age, but it's still something hard for Scaramouche to imagine.]

You find blood more comfortable than makeup? You know you didn't need to wear any for me, but it looks good on you-- looked.

At least when you're near me, yes. I can hear you coming, smell where you've been. At times it can tell me things about you that you haven't in words. Hehe, though I do very much like looking at you too.

[As they get to the front door, Kazuha briefly pauses and draws his hand away from the other Inazuma's to get his key out. Valuables mean very little to the samurai-- this sort of security is only to help dissuade intruders. At the very least, in Nippon he has little worry of assassins, unlike in Inazuma.

He hums thoughtfully, softly unlocking the home and sliding the door open.]

Blood is a hazard of my chosen path of life. Makeup may have been instead had my clan not fallen-- I'm sure you know the expectations of appearances of clan masters in Inazuma City. I can't say I miss that.

[As they step in, Kazuha closes the door behind them, but they hardly leave the entrance before the samurai is pushing his hand against the immortal's chest to back him against the wall, his face leaning in close enough he can brush his lips against a cheek.]

I don't just like looking at you. I like the way you smell... When you leave, it lingers on my pillow.

What kind of things?

[A disappointed pout passes over Scaramouche's features as their hands are pulled apart, though it doesn't last long as the door to the home is slid open and the promise of privacy is within reach. The walk back hadn't been nearly as enjoyable as their stroll to the ume trees, the anticipation of what they could be doing away from prying eyes eating away at leaving things as relaxed as they could have been.

That Kazuha had seen fit to torment him before they began their walk back didn't help matters. Deserved given his own teasing before, but the difference there was the samurai being tortured and him.]

Not every clan head wears makeup, but as I said, it looks good on you. If it were something you wanted to wear more often than blood, I wouldn't be against helping you.

[He barely makes it two steps in before the mortal is pushing him back into a wall, breath catching in his throat as the man leans in close. From anyone else the action would infuriate him, the words would come off as bizarre and creepy, but from Kazuha it does no more than heat his face up more.

The way his hands move up to the back of the samurai's neck, tangle in hair fallen loose, isn't something he can help. The immortal's head tilting to try and catch Kazuha's lips in a brief kiss. He waited the whole walk back, certainly it's something deserved now.]

Aren't you charming. Have I been tormenting you, sharing a bed?

[closed] come home with me

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