laura (
appliances) wrote in
dumbshow2018-11-24 10:16 pm
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 |

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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?
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[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.
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[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?
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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?
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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?
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[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.
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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.
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[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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You've met me. How well do you think this would go if I had to lead?
[He can memorize steps with perfect accuracy, however, so this not-a-waltz is going straight into the vault.]
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[Which is a wry joke and a vague statement all at once. It doesn't matter. It really doesn't, this is stupid and fun and he loves dancing, he really does. Fingers tightening on Kakyoin's waist, he spins them both, his hips rocking and his fingers tightening around the other man's. They move quickly, giddily, the pace picking up the longer the song goes on, and it's not as if Kakyoin can get tired, right, so why not just go for it? Pull him in tighter, because the sun's set and the room is dim and he's spinning them both around, hands splayed on his back--
--and the song changes, slower, sweeter, more intimate--
--and it's so easy to just dip him down, leaning over him, his grin softening.]
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Then the song changes, and oh, down he goes— With Polnareff's face so close to his it's all he can do to stare up at him, hesitant maybe, but not uncomfortable. Fortunately he remembers to blink like a normal person. And no, he can't really get tired, but he's built to be convincing, which mean that, yes, hosts can in fact blush.]
...Hi?
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[He lingers over him for a few moments, his eyes darting about his face. That blush isn't real, just like the rise and fall of Kakyoin's chest isn't real, but on the other hand, it's surely not programmed, right? He's just feeling it, right? He surely wouldn't blush to pander to Polnareff's ego. Yeah. Okay. Okay, and he grins a little wider. One leg stretches out, brushing against Kakyoin's, as he slowly pulls them up.]
You're cute when you blush.
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You're not cute at all.
[Hmph... yes, that's biting and convincing. He pats Polnareff on the cheek, very sarcastically, to emphasize his point. He could detach himself and go back to staring out the window, but he's decided not to do that just yet.]
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[He yanks him in closer, pulling him up against Polnareff's body, his grin sharpening.]
So how come you still wanna dance, huh?
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You told me it was fun. I'm having fun.
[He says, flatly. No, this is fun, trust him.]
That doesn't mean you're cute.
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[It's a real question, though he doesn't release him just yet. But you can't be flat and sarcastic like that, not when he's still so tentative about things like autonomy.]
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[A beat. Well, under a thin veneer of constant panic and worry that someone will kick in Polnareff's front door at any moment and drag him back to the park. But that isn't Polnareff's fault.]
I'm... wondering about what happens next. But I enjoy your company.
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[He says it with half a smile, more rueful than the manic cheer he usually exudes.]
You understand?
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[We, at least. There's that.]
But right now, yes, this is fun.
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[He squeezes his hand as the next song plays, and oh, it's French, that's much more like it. It's bright and cheery, even if the lyrics are a little dark. It's a splendid song to nonsensically dance to, and they would, but oh, there's the doorbell--]
Ahh. Dancing and now dinner, huh?
[Probably a good idea. They neither of them are exactly out of breath, but at the same time, dancing burns calories (or oil, or whatever Kakyoin runs on, which, hey, does he need, like, an oil can, how does it work . . .)]
Go set the table, yeah? Stuff's in the kitchen.
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Uh— alright...
[He doesn't set tables, but he shuffles off into the kitchen and stands there for a moment scrutinizing the available stuff. Well, plates, he's got plates... is there a whole process here? He stands there holding a fork for a good ten seconds, fully aware that he knows how to use this thing but has never actually picked one up before this moment.
So the table setting is going great. He'll work it out enough.]
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The table is not set when he gets back, but whatever, that's okay. He's got plates! It's great! And the Japanese food presumably comes with some chopsticks, albeit cheap wooden ones, so they're good.]
Man, you'd suck as a housewife.
[Cheerfully said as he dumps one, two, three bags on the table.]
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Thank you, that's a compliment.
[Don't mind as he peeks into all of these bags. What IS all of this.]
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They will not finish all this food.]
There's chopsticks in there if you want. And water, uh. I don't know what you need to eat, exactly.
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[They're doing great at this. He will go for the chopsticks, if only for that little smidge of familiarity. Will he eat, like, every type of food with these? Yes.
He surveys the whole... spread, a touch skeptically.]
But I'm also fairly certain I can't go into cardiac arrest, so you have my word that if you pass out from eating all of this, I will roll you somewhere comfortable.
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back at it again with the roboyfriend