I arrive at Tsugaru's and begin immediately to tap on the door, stepping back when I hear footsteps approaching. Tsukishima swings the door open, looking immensely relieved.
"That bad?" I question.
He shakes his head, biting his lip. "Not...that bad, but I'm still really glad that you're here," he admits, making sure to keep his voice down, and I notice that a ginger cat has managed to wrap itself around his leg, purring.
It's been a while since I've been over; Tsugaru is one of the few humans who does not grate on my nerves like nails on a chalkboard, but since I'm neither his manager nor his close friend I just haven't had a reason to stop by. "Has Psyche really been talking to him for an hour?" I'm dubious as to why Tsugaru would stand to keep him around that long.
"No, he stopped talking about YS a while ago, but it's still kind of..." Tsukishima seems to realize that I'm currently still waiting outside and unblocks the entryway, almost tripping over the feline below his feet in the process. As I walk inside, two other cats turn the corner and then stop to stare at me. A gold-feathered bird flutters into the room before dancing out again. It's unusually quiet. Where are the dogs? I turn to Tsukishima, intending to ask him about it, but then notice that he's tugging his scarf back up quickly, as if seeing me has reminded him of the bruised area on his neck.
I decide I'll let it slide for now. Psyche and Tsugaru are no real threats to me, but they've both probably already seen it either way. A smug feeling makes itself at home in my mind. I push that aside for the time being, amused as Tsukishima looks at me nervously through his glasses and then glances away- I know well enough that he wants something, but I'm not kind enough to give it to him without him asking.
I am, however, selfish enough to take whatever I want without asking. I stretch up to brush a light, lingering kiss to his mouth, reminding myself that because he's mineI am, by default, the only one allowed to do things such as that. The flush dusting his cheeks is entirely rewarding in its own right as well. I'm considering going back for another more insistent contact, but we've kept Tsugaru waiting alone with Psyche for a little too long.
"Which room are they in?"
"I-I'll show you; just follow me." Tsukishima's slight stutter does not go beyond my hearing. I cover a half-smile with my hand and by glancing away. Upon looking back as he starts to move forward, I catch the hopeful stare he flashes me, and figure that making him stammer even more couldn't hurt.
Tsugaru can deal with Psyche for just a minute more.
Yanking him almost too roughly, I kiss Tsukishima again, tracing the seam of his lips with my tongue. He's unprepared for my sudden movement and stumbles closer to me, mouth parting easily. I don't immediately try to overpower him; instead, I allow him to come to me, earning him a small sound of esteem from my end. The fact that the motions he's enacting are tentative doesn't bother me- it only serves to restate that it's Tsukishima. Some part of my mind tells me that we should stop already, but my mind isn't what's in control as I watch him close his eyes, growing minutely more confident, more willing to try new things with me. Finally he pulls back to breathe, mouth wet with saliva and skin blushing, and I don't gift him much of a recovery time before my lips are back on his, this time exploring him, just the way I like. He's only able to allow me to do this for a short time and jerks back again.
"We should r-really g-go check on them," Tsukishima's chest rises and falls, grateful for the oxygen.
Reluctantly I nod, licking my lips. Who knows if they'd heard us, or walked in; I'd been so concentrated that I wouldn't have been aware of an airplane flying low over the house.
:
"Psyche, you said you wanted to help," Tsugaru's patient voice meets our ears as we walk out to his small backyard, only to find that a sort-of plastic tub has been lugged over and filled with soapy water. A comically unhappy mixed breed whines lowly, not enjoying the bath he's recieving at all.
"Oh, don't complain, it's your fault for getting out in the first place and rolling in the dirt," Psyche scolds good-naturedly, "Oh, and I am helping, Tsu-chan! See, I'm holding him down!"
And he is, even if maybe his grip is a little loose and looks more like a hug than anything else. Psyche's fur-lined coat has been abandoned, leaving the plain black longsleeve he's wearing to get thouroughly soaked with the dog's flailing.
I personally admire Tsugaru's self-control; I would have been snapping at Psyche long ago.
"Um, do you need help...?"
"Oh," he finally notices Tsukishima and I, "Don't worry about it. We're almost done. Hello, Hachimenroppi," Tsugaru smiles at me. He's changed into an old T-shirt and a pair of worn jeans, presumably in order to avoid getting his normal attire wet and dirty. I give him a small nod in return, hoping it doesn't come across as grumpy. I'm just not one for big, cheerful hellos, even with people I like.
"Are you sure?" Tsukishima's inquiry is doubtful.
Tsugaru glances at the Psyche and then the canine he's trying to wash. "...It's fine."
Laughing, Psyche rubs the dog's ears, distracting it while the blonde man dumps a bucket of water over the animal's head. As soon as the dog registers the feeling, however, it stiffens, and I'm backing up with the assumption that it will begin shaking itself. Thankfully, Psyche delivers a well-placed scratch under the mix's chin. Tsugaru actually looks a little pleased.
"Alright, we're finished," he announces.
"Hooray!" responds Psyche, throwing his arms up in the air. The freed dog leaps out of the tub, showering the black-haired man with water before taking off, yipping.
Psyche appears to suffer momentary shock.
"I have extra clothes, even if they might not fit," Tsugaru says quickly. Nodding numbly, Psyche wipes some of the moistness off of his nose. I'm secretly congratulating the dog.
Tsukishima fights to hide a smile, running off to catch the runaway. After staring at Psyche and Tsugaru for a second, I go to follow him. It takes at least ten minutes to catch the mutt; I decide immediately thereafter that I am a cat person, even if this particular dog did do some amount of good. At least you don't have to give cats baths.
"I'm sorry about all that," Tsugaru says as we pull the canine up to be dried off. It growls under the weight of a thick blue towel, being scrubbed earnestly by a now-dry Psyche wearing clothes that are obviously too large. It's not Tsugaru's fault for being so tall, though. "I'm going to go change; I'll be right back," he adds apologetically, taking hold of the dog and bringing it inside.
"Okay!" Psyche chirps. I roll my eyes. Tsukishima fidgets in the silence that follows, looking from me, to Psyche, and back again. "Hey, Tsuki-kun, do you know the dog's name?" He grabs onto the writer's sleeve, causing Tsukishima to have to slump over slightly. I'm instantly glaring daggers at him, warning. Not that close. Psyche merely pretends as if he hasn't seen the look on my face and leans closer, "Tsu-chan won't tell me, so do you know?"
"Um...they don't really have names, but..." Tsukishima sends an uncomfortable look my way. I step closer without thinking. I'm not sure what I'm aiming to do, but it bugs me that Psyche knows just how to push my buttonsand I'm wishing that he had some weakness I could exploit. For better or for worse, Psyche lets Tsukishima go in order to frolic into the house. I sigh frustratedly.
"Sorry," Tsukishima says. Of course he assumes that it's his fault that Psyche loves to bother me.
"Let's just go inside," I suggest. Tsukishima nods once and follows me in; we step carefully around where Psyche has plopped himself down with the newly-washed dog.
Abruptly I remember what Delic asked of me. "Psyche, don't you still have work to do?"
"Huh?" He turns to stare at me for a second before gasping dramatically, "Oh no! You're right! Tell Tsu-chan I'll talk to him tomorrow!" Psyche dashes to get his coat- still wearing the author's clothes, he tumbles in the direction of the entrance, tugging his phone out and dialing frantically. "Delic?" is the last thing we hear him say before Tsugaru's front door slams shut.
"Finally," I sigh irritably. Tsukishima bites his lip, probably not liking how I can show my disdain so openly. The word workhas me thinking of something, however. "Tsukishima, have you written anything lately?" The fact that I haven't noticed this means that I'm neglecting my duties as a manager.
My writer lets a stricken expression infect his features, shaking his head in realization and dismay. "I...I haven't written anything at all..!"
"Well, since you transferred, you haven't gotten a deadline yet. Just make sure you keep up with everything," I advise. A little procrastination turns into a big problem, as the entirety of the humans race knows but chooses to ignore.
"I will..." he hesitates momentarily, "D-do you want...to stay over again tonight?"
It takes him all his courage to ask even the simplest of questions. "Alright," Accepting his offer simply, I reflect that I haven't slept at his apartment since...well, we made that huge breakthrough with our relationship. Would the atmosphere be any different than the other times?
Tsugaru returns clad in his usual blue and white yukata, glancing around warily for Psyche. We spend only fifteen more minutes mingling before Tsukishima's anxiety about his writing gets the best of him, and we say goodbye and then are boarding the subway within the next ten. We sit close together, my leg pressed up against his even though there are many seats open, and he looks happy so I allow him to tentatively reach for my hand, fingers trailing along the back of my palm in a gentle motion. He doesn't look at me when I turn my hand over, his resting over it. I can still see that he's positively beaming. It's a little contagious- my mouth curves into a light, inconspicuous smile. The elderly woman across from us stares disapprovingly, but I could care less about her bitter sentiments. I've discovered that I have another way to announce that Tsukishima is off-limits.
As the subway screeches in to our stop, Tsukishima picks up my hand more firmly, slipping his pinky finger between my pointer and middle. I raise my eyebrows; I've never seen this type of hand holding before, but if Tsukishima likes it, then it won't hurt. His hand is slightly sweating, and while this factor should bother me it really does not. As we exit the subway, Tsukishima makes sure that we aren't separated.
It's a short journey from the station to his home. The sun sets in the distance, creating a relaxed air that lingers even until Tsukishima lets go of me to fiddle with his keys. He covers a yawn. "Tired already?"
"Ah, yeah...I'm sorry," he replies, swinging the door open before I have the mind to scold him for apologizing so much for things beyond his control.
"It's alright; we can just head to bed early."
"Um...you can, if you want, but...I want to write a little."
Well, if he insists. "I'll stay up."
Tsukishima's white laptop bag lies on top of the coffee table, and he gingerly removes the device from its confines, settling down on the couch. It's a familiar routine- I head into the small kitchen in order to fix two glasses of cool, relieving ice water. Upon reappearing in Tsukishima's living room, I position myself on the sofa next to him and find that he's already written a considerably large paragraph. He offers me a grateful smile and takes a sip of his own drink, concentrated mostly on his work already. His mouth moves slightly and I know that he's reading the words silently to make certain they're alright. Words are like music to Tsukishima; they can be played differently like instruments, make the audience feel sadness, inspire joy. They can flow very mellifluously, as smooth as soft silk and satin, or crackle like overcooked, crinkly corn on the cob.