Maybe Akechi outright ignores Ren's texts the first day or so after the dragon attack. Not because there's anything more pressing that requires his immediate attention and certainly not because he regrets that act of furious passion out there on the battlefield. No, Akechi ignores the texts simply because he can.
(Though maybe there was just tiniest bit of asserting his own control there too. In a world where they've been effectively collared, it feels good to push the boundaries of his own cage just to see what he can still get away with.)
But Ren is, as he always has been, insufferably persistent. So it's maybe the third day since the other teen had sent his initial "soooo we should. chat." text when Akechi finally shows up at his dorm.
The older boy is dressed just as finely as he had been that night out at the pub - his vest laced elegantly up his neck, his gloves pulled tight around his fingers, every inch of him annoyingly covered. Even his silky hair has been pulled together at the back of his neck, a small, single braid woven through it. And when he enters Ren's room, he eyes the other boy up and down briefly - needing that one look to make certain the other hasn't lost a limb or something equally insane in the few days apart - before he's brushing right by Ren and helping himself to settle on the edge of his bed. Immediately, a slender leg crosses over the other, arms crossed over his chest.
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chiming
[action] post-dragon
Date: 2025-03-02 05:45 am (UTC)From:Maybe Akechi outright ignores Ren's texts the first day or so after the dragon attack. Not because there's anything more pressing that requires his immediate attention and certainly not because he regrets that act of furious passion out there on the battlefield. No, Akechi ignores the texts simply because he can.
(Though maybe there was just tiniest bit of asserting his own control there too. In a world where they've been effectively collared, it feels good to push the boundaries of his own cage just to see what he can still get away with.)
But Ren is, as he always has been, insufferably persistent. So it's maybe the third day since the other teen had sent his initial "soooo we should. chat." text when Akechi finally shows up at his dorm.
The older boy is dressed just as finely as he had been that night out at the pub - his vest laced elegantly up his neck, his gloves pulled tight around his fingers, every inch of him annoyingly covered. Even his silky hair has been pulled together at the back of his neck, a small, single braid woven through it. And when he enters Ren's room, he eyes the other boy up and down briefly - needing that one look to make certain the other hasn't lost a limb or something equally insane in the few days apart - before he's brushing right by Ren and helping himself to settle on the edge of his bed. Immediately, a slender leg crosses over the other, arms crossed over his chest.
Naturally, his expression gives nothing away.]
You wanted to talk.