[ hands shoved in his jacket, he makes a show of looking around the space — nosy, at that, presumptuous in a way that means overlooking the fact that he got asked a question. cabinet and fridge doors open in the kitchen, their stock perused over, evidence of cooked meals mixed with empty take-out he notices tossed in the trash. no better or worse than the average guy their age — Keigo should be in college now, a thought passes — but it's still enough for Guanshan to give him shit. ]
[ especially after he notices the fucking sweets everywhere. ice cream in the freezer, candy piled here and there. ]
Stop eatin' like a damn ten-year-old.
[ that's all he says, though. seems to be doing fine on his own. next is the living room, stocked with video game titles he doesn't recognize but still pique his curiosity. that might be the best part of coming to new worlds: seeing the inventive new ways they use the same media. he says nothing, but that just means 'approval' in his language. ]
[ he heads to the bathroom, flicks on the light. a cursory glance is enough to tell him what he needs to know — the vain fucker. but that's fine. for his next endeavor, he grabs Keigo's arm, fully cognizant of how closely he's been following, and drags him on into the bedroom without prompting. it smells like sex, a scent with which Guanshan is incredibly familiar, but he doesn't say anything about it as he starts peeling off his jacket. ]
Lay down.
[ this is easier. the hugging, the intimacy, the publicity of it they'd just shared — he can't do that, not without some other kind of padding. sex is a better language, one he's had to learn the ins and outs of for years, and now finds himself relying on it more than he thought he ever would. ]
[ maybe he can't tell Keigo his appreciation, his relief that there's someone here who he knows, who knows him — but he can show him. (when did he become this person?) ]
no subject
[ especially after he notices the fucking sweets everywhere. ice cream in the freezer, candy piled here and there. ]
Stop eatin' like a damn ten-year-old.
[ that's all he says, though. seems to be doing fine on his own. next is the living room, stocked with video game titles he doesn't recognize but still pique his curiosity. that might be the best part of coming to new worlds: seeing the inventive new ways they use the same media. he says nothing, but that just means 'approval' in his language. ]
[ he heads to the bathroom, flicks on the light. a cursory glance is enough to tell him what he needs to know — the vain fucker. but that's fine. for his next endeavor, he grabs Keigo's arm, fully cognizant of how closely he's been following, and drags him on into the bedroom without prompting. it smells like sex, a scent with which Guanshan is incredibly familiar, but he doesn't say anything about it as he starts peeling off his jacket. ]
Lay down.
[ this is easier. the hugging, the intimacy, the publicity of it they'd just shared — he can't do that, not without some other kind of padding. sex is a better language, one he's had to learn the ins and outs of for years, and now finds himself relying on it more than he thought he ever would. ]
[ maybe he can't tell Keigo his appreciation, his relief that there's someone here who he knows, who knows him — but he can show him. (when did he become this person?) ]