dumbshow | highly new, slightly improved open post

highly new, slightly improved open post

assorted morons

optional prompts/ideas

☆ caught in the rain meme
☆ little steps meme
☆ affectionate physical contact meme
☆ picture prompt also acceptable but link them so it's tidy
☆ AU ideas: soulmates AU, reincarnation AU, Bad End AU, canon divergent/roleswap AU, dorky college AU, crossover AU, super indulgent high fantasy AU
☆ melodrama is ultimate tier
★ SHIPPING AND FUCC:
☆ non-fluffy relationship types I'm down for: codependent, master/servant power imbalance type ships, "we're bad for each other but worse for anyone else," other things I am failing to think of tbh
☆ things I am not into: noncon (includes "dubcon"), incest, tsundere shit if your tsundere is just verbally abusive, gratuitous torture porn, you'll probably have to ask me about harder kinks and they will vary by character
☆ I don't have a kink list so pitch me an idea if u thirsty
☆ if you would prefer a locked post I can also make that happen

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Kiiiiiind of? We can pick you up a pair. They're open-toed, anyway, but sneakers are way more comfortable.

[But suit yourself. He slumps down a little too and sips at his beer with rather more enthusiasm. One mouthful, two, and then he glances over at him.]

Hey.

That's essentially what you said about these pants.

[And admittedly, he'll get used to jeans, but it's the principle of the thing. He looks over, still not exactly reveling in this beer.]

What?

[He winks.]

Welcome to freedom, huh?

[Hmm........

Kakyoin kicks him in the leg. He took his shoes off and it's not a hard kick, but he still kicks him in the leg. This is Polnareff's reward.]

It's not bad.

What is wrong with you, why would you kick me, you dick--

[Excuse you, you know what's happening next? A headlock, that's what, or at least he's gonna try, because fucking rude.]

[Wow!! Freed and immediately murdered, just like that!! Or: he laughs, because of course he does, and makes only a half-hearted attempt to shove Polnareff off. He needs one hand free to keep this beer from spilling all over this expensive sofa...]

What happened to all of that fretting? It's barely been an hour--

[What an asshole. Polanreff keeps him there for a long few seconds, just to prove he can, before releasing him with a shove. So rude, and his injured expression shows it. No one has ever suffered more than he suffers.]

It's barely been an hour and you're over your gratitude? I expected you to at least say thank you.

[And Kakyoin slouches right back into the cushions like he totally won that... interaction, smug. He wiggles the beer pointedly.]

I'm wearing your ridiculous clothes and drinking your awful alcohol, isn't that enough?

[Or: he's been emotionally fragile enough for one day, cut him some slack.]

You're not wearing my ridiculous sneakers, so, uh, no.

[It is. He turns, lifting one leg up, sitting in such a way that he's claiming as much space as possible, solely because he's like that.]

C'mon. You musta thought about being out here at least a little. What'd you imagine doing?

[Now who's rude... Kakyoin isn't bothered yet, but give it time. He'll defend his corner of the couch whatever it takes.]

Doing...? [He shrugs.] Anything I want. Nothing at all— I've never had the chance to do nothing at all before.

[It's delightful. He sips the beer, which is less so.]

Why, what do you think I should be doing?

[It's odd, thinking of nothing as an indulgence, but he supposes it's true. All of Kakyoin's life has been scripted, and certainly none of it involved idle time.]

I'unno.

[More a noise than a word, really.]

I mean-- we can do nothing, I don't care. I just wanna make sure you're--

[Hm.]

Getting the full experience. And getting to do what you want.

[Oh-- he's sweet. Worrying too much - or maybe the exactly correct amount, considering - but sweet. Kakyoin looks back up at the ceiling and... thinks about what to do. Hm.]

There's time enough for the full experience. [...] I'll put the shoes back on and we can go somewhere soon. You pick.

[Obviously, but yeah.]

All right.

[All right! He leaps to his feet, ready to just go and find a billion restaurants, or at least google the hell out of them, but--]

Oh! Important question: you want Japanese food or something foreign?

Would it even be close to the same if we had Japanese food...?

[It's 2019 and a different country, Polnareff. The enthusiasm is endearing, but he is totally useless in this process.]

Surprise me.

Yeah, yeah. Hey! We can get it delivered. That's a new thing. People just bring food to your door, it's great, but-- yeah, okay, hang on--

[He has to skedaddle to go order it. And maybe it's good they're taking a little break from one another, the two of them finally exhaling after all of . . . today.

Which, honestly, was a lot. He doesn't regret a single second of it, he'd go back and do it again if he had the chance, but it doesn't mean it wasn't tense. He isn't entirely certain they're out of it, truth be told, but at the same time, it's not like people are breaking down their door.

He orders food. He orders a lot of food, Japanese and Italian and French (obviously), because what's the point if they're not gonna go over the top? Why not let Kakyoin try everything, or at least three things? He wants to spoil the guy, truthfully. He wants to give him everything and anything, because he deserves it.

It's not quite guilt prompting him. He's never stabbed the guy, never once forced him into anything, but . . . others have. And that's more than enough to leave him feeling like he's gotta make up for god, what, all of humanity? Something. Look, it doesn't matter, just let him do this.]

You should probably try a shower, those are fun . . . we can watch shitty tv all night, too, uh, that's like stories but people act them out--

[He says it idly as he comes back, shoving a hand through his hair, mussing it out of its usual style, really committing himself to staying in for a little while.]

[Polnareff's enthusiasm edging further into whatever this is - over the top apology food-ordering, or something - is something they'll have to address sooner or later. Sure, Kakyoin had made some noise about not owing anyone anything for getting him out of the park, but at the same time, he doesn't want to watch Polnareff go just a little off the deep end trying to go above and beyond.

Later, maybe. If it gets to be too much. He can't deny that part of him is flattered that Polnareff seems so happy just doing things for him, but-- mm.

When Polnareff returns, Kakyoin hasn't left the room but he's left the couch, to wander around and pick up decorative knickknacks and stare out the window a bit. He looks back over his shoulder, and-- ah-- puts down an expensive trinket before he drops it like a fool. It's just...]

Your hair looks nice like that.

[Aha, bury him under bougie furniture. Polnareff has always been handsome, but all... casual, hair down, not screwing up a yukata for the fifth time-- damn.

How about that view! Out the window!]

You're still... [50 steps ahead?] Try thinking about one thing at a time.

[Oh. Oh, hello, and he grins as Kakyoin turns. He isn't entirely certain that look means what he thinks it does, but if so, ha ha, now they're even. There's a little more swagger to the way he walks towards Kakyoin, even if he's picked the inferior hair option.

Anyway. He's right, of course: he is all over the place, too excitable and too eager, tripping over himself in his enthusiasm. It'll calm down sooner or later, especially because even he realizes he's being too loud.]

There's a lot of fun to be had. I just wanna be sure you don't miss out.

[But it's gently said as he stands next to Kakyoin, glancing down at the city below. One thing at a time . . . well, this is pretty nice. Just standing here, next to Kakyoin, watching the real sun set.]

[Don't walk like that, don't even look at him-- Kakyoin hums flatly, staring dutifully out the window for a good, hmm, ten seconds before he can't help glancing over at Polnareff.

They're just standing here watching the sunset, and just like the other day, it's easy enough to lean to the side and press their arms together.]

Write it down, then. [no, no, okay--] Thank you.

[There. He's quiet a moment, then,] ...Did I hear you ask for enough food to feed an entire town?

No, because that's a surprise.

[Honestly . . . he glances down at Kakyoin (and it is down, how short), quietly pleased by that gentle point of connection. It's nothing, and it means nothing, but-- one thing at a time, he'd said, and so he tries not to think about how he'd like to wrap his arms around him properly, rest his head atop Kakyoin's, pull him in real close--

One thing at a time. He shifts his weight, bumping lightly against him.]

Don't ruin it for yourself.

Oh, is it? Then I didn't hear anything.

[He has perfect hearing, but alright, he'll play along. He can't help but grin a little, bumping Polnareff back. They can stand here doing this like children until the food gets here; Kakyoin would be weirdly fine with that.]

Well... [hmm] What do you do out here when you're not coming to see me?

[Oh, hm. That's a good question. For so long, it was nothing but training. Training to fight, training to track others, training to make sure that his sister's murder was avenged. And yeah, he'd done things between that, but it'd always been temporary distractions, nothing like a real hobby.]

Dancing.

[He says it slowly, trying to think.]

Jojo takes me out to karaoke sometimes, I guess that's a big thing in Japan. Or . . . I like going for runs. Just keeping in shape, you know?

[Hm. Not a great summary. He digs into his pocket, tugging out a cigarette, bumping up against Kakyoin intentionally as he does.]

Hey. Wanna hear some music?

[Ooh, teach him about American Dancing. And Japanese Karaoke? What's karaoke. Kakyoin hums, avoiding more culture clash for the time being.]

Sure.

[Ah, but how will they keep bumping into each other like children once Polnareff does whatever he needs to do to get music going... Hmm!]

You can dance?

Yeah. I'm good with my body.

[It's not innuendo. A little flirting, maybe, and that's emphasized as he winks, but he means it. Anything physical, dancing or fighting or sports, comes easy to him. What's it called? Something intelligence, Sherry had told him once. Whatever. It doesn't matter. The point is: some people are great at math but can't run to save their life; some people, like him, are incredibly clever on their feet and then a little clumsy otherwise.

He heads for the speaker system, prodding around it until he can hook up his phone to it. Of course he picks something with a beat, remix or not. If this is Kakyoin's first modern song, it ought to be a bop.]

You wanna learn? C'mere.

Edited (LET ME LINK THE SONG) 2019-07-24 03:17 (UTC)

[Good with his body... what a dork. Kakyoin still chuckles anyway, leaning against this fancy shelf or table or whatever by the window while Polnareff goes off.

This sure is— a track. He blinks a few times, clearly shook by this sick beat, then obligingly joins him across the room.

After a moment he sort of awkwardly holds his hands out. Yes? Maybe?]

I have no idea what I'm doing.

Yeah, no kidding.

[He looks so awkward . . . but it's sweet. He's grinning as he grabs his hands, fingers threading together, before tugging him in close. He's lighter than Polnareff expects; it's easy to pull him in, one hand dropping to skim over his lower back, the other lifting in a joke of a waltz pose. The beat's easy, one-two-three, and he's still grinning as he starts moving them, more ridiculous than actual dancing.]

Just-- it doesn't matter, there's no steps. Just do what feels good, okay?

[He'll save grinding for next lesson.]

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