To this point in his life, so much has been pre-ordained; dictated or decided for him in some farcical semblance of order, nothing left to chance even with chaos roiling so close beneath the surface. Madness within methodology, a hung chess match two seconds from a punch-up. That's part of why he welcomed Kaoru back in so readily. Inexplicably, he defied all Ainosuke's expectations; metaphorically whipped Ainosuke to attention, grabbed him by the throat and hasn't let him go. Ainosuke's never bored with Kaoru, nor has he ever been so pleased to be proven wrong.
But in this, he's given Ainosuke the opportunity to fall back on old habits. To plot the lay of their evening, cover the variables, create a narrative, and that's thrilling. Let alone that Kaoru would trust him to this extent, but to have the man under his thumb? To compel him to compliance, submission? God, but nothing has ever been more delicious.
So Ainosuke has it handled, and he's been giddy with it since finalizing the details with Kaoru.
Kaoru wanted to be surprised, so a simple narrative seems best. Something without all the trappings of make-believe, for now. So Kaoru doesn't make it to the kettle. Ainosuke emerges from a darkened corner off the hall, and without saying a word, he sinks a gloved hand into Kaoru's hair. He grips the roots hard at the back of Kaoru's head, and shoves him over a spare stretch of countertop, face pressed to cold granite. ]
Didn't I tell you there would be hell to pay if I found you in my rooms again?
[ Ainosuke's voice is light, tone full of mirth despite his grit teeth. There's a flash of silver, and Kaoru feels the sharp point of a blade pressed to his jaw, while Ainosuke jams an elbow into his low back to keep him flat against the counter. ]
no subject
To this point in his life, so much has been pre-ordained; dictated or decided for him in some farcical semblance of order, nothing left to chance even with chaos roiling so close beneath the surface. Madness within methodology, a hung chess match two seconds from a punch-up. That's part of why he welcomed Kaoru back in so readily. Inexplicably, he defied all Ainosuke's expectations; metaphorically whipped Ainosuke to attention, grabbed him by the throat and hasn't let him go. Ainosuke's never bored with Kaoru, nor has he ever been so pleased to be proven wrong.
But in this, he's given Ainosuke the opportunity to fall back on old habits. To plot the lay of their evening, cover the variables, create a narrative, and that's thrilling. Let alone that Kaoru would trust him to this extent, but to have the man under his thumb? To compel him to compliance, submission? God, but nothing has ever been more delicious.
So Ainosuke has it handled, and he's been giddy with it since finalizing the details with Kaoru.
Kaoru wanted to be surprised, so a simple narrative seems best. Something without all the trappings of make-believe, for now. So Kaoru doesn't make it to the kettle. Ainosuke emerges from a darkened corner off the hall, and without saying a word, he sinks a gloved hand into Kaoru's hair. He grips the roots hard at the back of Kaoru's head, and shoves him over a spare stretch of countertop, face pressed to cold granite. ]
Didn't I tell you there would be hell to pay if I found you in my rooms again?
[ Ainosuke's voice is light, tone full of mirth despite his grit teeth. There's a flash of silver, and Kaoru feels the sharp point of a blade pressed to his jaw, while Ainosuke jams an elbow into his low back to keep him flat against the counter. ]
Now I get to do what I want with you.