(no subject)

[yaysoccer.livejournal.com]

[ the streets had been pretty bare after a little traffic on the way to anthony's apartment, making due with the time they had when stopping to glance down at the arms around his waist. double-checking never hurt, considering the circumstances. as per usual he has his moments of thought over the events that had taken place throughout the day. said thoughts eventually traveled into their adventure at the lounge, concluding that it was most likely the alcohol speaking for anthony and nothing more than that; it was an acceptable self-hypothesis.

without any chatter involved (he was half-expecting puff, woo to happen any second, after all) he makes his way down the last few streets in complete silence, already quite aware of their exact destination. ]

Comments

[yaysoccer.livejournal.com]

[ nods shortly, observing the living room with some interest. ]

I have an attraction towards you, this much is true.

[cutemajor.livejournal.com]

[ huffs a breath into the back of michael's head. ]

I like you too.

[yaysoccer.livejournal.com]

I understand. You have been expressing your affection for me quite frequently tonight. [ moves towards the kitchen. ] Although the sentiments will most likely change tomorrow.

[cutemajor.livejournal.com]

I'm a chicken. We don't take back our love!

[yaysoccer.livejournal.com]

Is that so. [ stops by the table, inclining his head towards it slightly. ] Would you like to sit?

[cutemajor.livejournal.com]

[ tilts a bit, trying in vain to catch a glimpse of michael's expression. ]

Are you getting tired?

[yaysoccer.livejournal.com]

[ turns his own head slightly, the side of his face brushing lightly against anthony's. ]

Only slightly.

1/5

[pokerobo.livejournal.com]

[ & this is when he wakes up, sitting upright in anthony's bed while the covers fall off of him. rubs an eye sleepily, grabbing his phone by instinct when his body decides that it needs some water.

scoots slowly into the kitchen, head hanging with sleep still heavily gripping at him. only looks up when he hears voices, stopping in front of the kitchen's entrance. ]

...?

[pokerobo.livejournal.com]

...

[pokerobo.livejournal.com]

...

[pokerobo.livejournal.com]

. . .

[pokerobo.livejournal.com]

[ quickly shuffles on over to them in a flash. is still half-asleep as he types, holding it up towards anthony: ]

「 Why are you kissing strange men? 」

1/5

[cutemajor.livejournal.com]

. . .

[cutemajor.livejournal.com]

. . .

[cutemajor.livejournal.com]

. . . !!

[cutemajor.livejournal.com]

Pi-- Pika--

[cutemajor.livejournal.com]

[ flails a little, the message not registering in lieu of his excitement of seeing the boy. ]

Hiro!

[pokerobo.livejournal.com]

[ directs all of his attention on anthony & bounces a little on his heels, making flailing motions in response. onii-chan, onii-chan~ ]

[cutemajor.livejournal.com]

[ wiggles a little, wanting to be put down at last. ]

I think I can stand now, cap-i-tan!

[yaysoccer.livejournal.com]

Hm? Ah, good to know.

[ & then he sets him down, turning his head to watch when hiro runs over to latch onto anthony's waist. ]

[cutemajor.livejournal.com]

[ dislodges hiro briefly so that he can bend down & hug the boy properly, pressing his nose into hiro's hair. ]

You're the best little brother ever. Sorry I left for so long. . .

[pokerobo.livejournal.com]

[ latches on again when they're in the correct position, shaking his head before pulling back slightly to type: ]

「 It's okay. 」 [ pauses, types more: ] 「 You look happy. A happy onii-chan is good. 」

[cutemajor.livejournal.com]

[ squints at the words, taking a much longer time to read them, then nods enthusiastically. ]

Really happy. I had awesome Sprite!

[pokerobo.livejournal.com]

[ nods back, as if emphasizing anthony's own nod. ]

「 And a boyfriend. Right? Not a strange or bad man because onii-chan is happy, not sad. 」

[bawkmajor.livejournal.com]

[ squints again. then the blush intensifies. ]

No, no, not a boyfriend! Boy and a friend, but he's my captain! Soccer. Good friend! I like him. . . ?