fluffnstuff | Give me the cuties

[There's a flicker of...something. Something that passes through his expression too quickly to be deciphered. Maybe just annoyance at being called out, hating how well Yokozawa has grown to know him - without even knowing everything. And maybe a thought, just for a split second, that he could tell the man. He could be honest.

Eiri presses the can into Yokozawa's hand so he can draw back, pop open his own. Looking away, toward the window where he's drawn the curtains shut so he doesn't have to see where he is, like that makes any difference.]

Well. You did tell me I couldn't screw around, so what else am I supposed to do when I'm in the mood to fuck?

[He could be honest. But this is easier. This falling back into the casual coldness he hasn't relied on since the beginning of their relationship. He can feel himself closing off, shutting down, and that's not what he wants, not now and not with him, dammit, he's going to screw everything up, he's too broken for this, why did he have to bring him here, he's such a fool. The beer can crinkles faintly under his grip, a barely-there shake beginning in his hand.]

[Yokozawa takes the can and squeezes it just enough to make a dent, but manages to bite down a retort that usually comes out automatically. They've been going back and forth enough for him to have a sense that there's something else going on that makes Eiri seem bothered. Like with most of Eiri's behavior, he's just not sure what it is. It's still familiar territory for him though. When Takano was at his low, he was distant too. Distant, but not actively pushing him away like Eiri seems to try to do.

To think he even felt proud of knowing everything about Takano like it was something he deserved a reward for. He learned the hard way that it takes more than just knowing to make a relationship work. What he has with Eiri right now is a testament to that, even if it doesn't seem that way.

He opens his can and notices that Eiri's done the same with his, if a little harder.]

Something's bothering you. [His tone is far from accusatory, but he's tired and grumpy so at best he's being firm.] If you can't tell me then at least don't act like an asshole that doesn't want me around. [You can tell me.]

[But being an asshole is so easy. Just as easy as denying anything is wrong, as easy as being cruel and goading someone else into being cruel, too. Because that's easier to take, he can understand that. He doesn't understand why the older man continues to care about him instead.

But he does, somehow. Eiri asked him to come (if you can call buying a plane ticket for someone "asking"), and he did. In a matter of minutes, Eiri has tried to both pull him in and push him away, and he hasn't just turned around and walked out and said to hell with this. Not yet, anyway. So don't give him a reason to. He has to hold his tongue for several silent minutes; he can't lash out, he needs to take his scolding. He needs him here.]

...Sorry. [It's a tough word to manage, one he can't often dredge up. He keeps his gaze turned away, though. He doesn't want to look at him again until he's sure his eyes aren't proclaiming that he's on the edge of a complete mental breakdown.

He'd hoped that from the moment Yokozawa arrived, his presence would be enough of a distraction for him to completely ignore his problems, but that's going to be impossible here. So fine, the man can't magically erase the darkness inside of him, but if he can accept it...that's something, then, isn't it?

He takes a drink of his beer, tries to relax the tightness in his chest before finally glancing back at him. To just anyone, the twist in his lips would probably only appear to be mild irritation, but there's an apology there, for someone who'd know to look for it.] The doc changed my meds before I left. They're shit.

[That apology might as well come wrapped in a bowtie. Even Yokozawa's taken by surprise about it. All the more reason to think that whatever else is on Eiri's mind, it's not easy to process.

He follows Eiri to stand next to him, giving the view of the city a small glance but keeps his gaze focused on the writer.]

I see. [What is he supposed to say to that? He's never looked in on how any sort of med works for people that need them. Maybe he should, even if just hearing Eiri's say is more than enough.]

You can talk to your doctor about it when you head back. [He finally takes a drink of the beer before swishing the can a bit to enjoy the coldness of it. He clears his throat. Tough love is already dispensed. He can do more.]

I'm here now so... [That line is cheesy even before it leaves his mouth, so the light color on his cheeks are difficult to fight. Whatever. He can blame it on the one sip of beer.]

Hang in there.

[He can talk to his doctor, sure, for all the good it will do. It's not an exact science, they keep telling him, like he doesn't know that very well. With one prescription, he sleeps too much; with another, he never does. Gains weight, loses it. Sometimes he functions just fine until he sees Kitazawa's ghost out of the corner of his eye. Sometimes they work until they just don't. Nothing fixes him.

Some things help. An overabundance of beer, cigarettes...the meaningless sex he used to have. Temporary band-aids that occasionally merely end up irritating the wound further. But this -

Eiri glances at the man beside him, a smile forming that's both teasing and relieved.] Sap. [Like he can talk. Like his heart doesn't feel a little fuller, despite the anxiety and chaos that clutches it, as he leans into Yokozawa so their arms, shoulders press together. He has so much to face outside that hotel window, and inside himself, but this - this helps.]

[Yep, being called that along with that smile just sends Yokozawa to look away with a scowl.] Shut up...

[Still, it's good to see him smile in a way that isn't trying to hide something (at least, not completely). If he has to sound like a sap to get the man out of a rough spot, then so be it. With a deep breath to make the pink go away, he lets his body relax as he lets their arms touch. The sight of bright tall buildings is nothing new, but for whatever reason he finds this rather nice. Part of it is likely because he's with company that wants him around for reasons that go beyond just business.]

It's been a while since I've been to New York. [He takes a good sip of his beer. He had been once for a business trip so there hardly was any time for leisure.]

You should show me around. [Tonight or tomorrow, whichever. He'll let Eiri make the call.] You've lived here for a while, right?

...Yeah, I did. [Ugh, when had that bit of information slipped out?

Not that it's completely improbable that he would've shared that fact with the other man over the past almost-year, but it bothers him a little that he can't remember the context. Was it just mentioned in passing, or did he tell him about the trouble he had fitting in at home? If he doesn't remember the specifics, does that mean that he was drunk at the time, or sleep-deprived, or...or that he truly, honestly, trusted his lover? Trusted him to the point where telling him some small thing about his shitshow of a childhood wasn't a huge deal?

Maybe he does. There's still tension in his shoulder pressed to Yokozawa's, though, as he shoves down the inevitable taste of bile that threatens to come up every time he thinks about his time here.] Not sure how interested you'd be in a sixteen year old's favorite spots.

[He takes a couple big gulps of his drink, enough to make himself grin again, at least shallowly, when he looks at the man next to him.] Wouldn't you rather order up some champagne to chase down this beer? There's another robe for you, too, but you've got to take those clothes off first.

[The tension doesn't go unnoticed by Yokozawa, who had grown used to picking up on most of the body language. Occasionally, the two would have dropped tidbits of their personal lives here and there, if Yokozawa had to think back about it. He's gone as far as to tell Eiri that his feelings for another wasn't reciprocated but nothing past that, possibly downplaying just how much the rejection had hurt him. He doesn't feel the need to tell the whole story since...it's more or less wrapped up, right?

Nonetheless, he still wants to get to know Eiri more all the same. If reopening his own old wounds can do that, he just might.]

I've been crammed in an airplane for more than twelve hours... [He mumbles, rolling his eyes a bit to hide the fact that he's blushing a bit. It'd be nice to walk around and not have to worry about being on time for something. Eiri at sixteen...

He's not ready to don a robe or anything yet, but if Eiri would rather have a day in, he wouldn't argue against it.]

Can't imagine what you must have been like at sixteen. [He down his beer as he tries to visualize it in his mind. Eiri...a delinquent? A model student? Or even a wide-eyed youth with big dreams like in the shoujo manga the company publishes?]

All the more reason to relax. [Preferably naked. But, admittedly, at the moment it would be more about his desperation for distraction than his genuine want. And that may be something he would've had no qualms about with someone who didn't really mean anything, but that isn't Yokozawa. It wouldn't be fair to him, not when Eiri is in such a shitty headspace.

Besides, fine, he did make the man come all the way out here; he guesses that the least he can do is take him out this evening for a nice dinner.

He snorts at that statement, almost choking on the beer going down his throat.] Good. You wouldn't want to. [Or maybe he just wouldn't want him to. Either way. God, he was such a young sixteen. Embarrassingly wide-eyed, yes, and so naive...fatally trusting...] I was a stupid kid.

[Yokozawa can take a hint most of the time. If he's right, then Eiri prefers to have a night in. A nice hotel room is miles better than a plane seat.

There's a definite glimmer of interest in his eyes when the subject starts to shift to Eiri's childhood. He doesn't mean to be outright nosey, but it's something he'd like to know. His gaze doesn't leave the writer as he hands him a tissue from the nearby table.]

Who wasn't? I don't mind having a night in if you tell me some stories. [He smirks.] That's what you do for a living, after all.

[ Well, when he puts it like that... ] We'll definitely go out, then. [ As daunting as the thought of shedding his warm robe and putting on actual clothes is. He'd rather face the city he hates than go into the deep, dark reasons why he hates it. ]

The stories I tell for a living are about sex and death. [ He tosses an answering smirk back at the other man, the twist of his lips tinged with bitterness. ] Is that the kind of childhood tale you want to hear? [ Because that's exactly what you would get, Yokozawa. ]

Give me the cuties

whoops all traces of fluff left

I'LL FIND SOME

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fluff came back with a vengeance

eeeee ;u;

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