[lol. Dave's got Ryuji right where he wants him now.]
[but yeah, it's true, it was a great prank, he'll admit it. and you can bet he'll also be using the space station AI responsibly to return the pranking favor.]
Really? I was gonna tell whoever was responsible thanks.
Maybe Dave really liked the smooth stylings of jazz circa way too goddamn long ago. Maybe he had a dance party right then and there. Ryuji follows this train of thought, because he's gullible sometimes, and why would Dave ever lead him astray, right? Right?
He bites down on one corner of his lip, and nods. Well, if he was really into the entire thing, he definitely did Dave a favor.]
[Ryuji's in the deep end before he's even actually in the deep end. The distance closes a bit more, and his gut feeling is telling him to take a step back, but he ain't no coward. He's also not guilty, so why would he feel nervous around this immortal god of hamster Valhalla?
Yeah, he's definitely making this really easy. His lips twitch, and he tries to straighten them out by force, restricting and forbidding the muscles in his mouth to start turning upward in concavity. He'll just... reach out, now that they're close enough and place a hand right on his shoulder.
If he's going down, he's going to at least try to take Dave with him.]
Maybe Crystal just likes that style of music, are we really gonna judge?
[mutually assured destruction it is, then. what's Dave got to lose? Simba already dunked him to the murky depths once already today, may as well go down in a blaze of pseudo vengeful glory.]
I'm just saying, chatbots don't get random wild hairs about sharing their music tastes on their own, right? [Dave, don't ... don't call the station's AI a chatbot??]
I figure someone must have been, I dunno. Texting with Cynthia or something.
[he punctuates that by lifting his hand to his own shoulder, casually wrapping his fingers around the top of Ryuji's wrist.]
[If only they were both close enough to the water so that Ryuji could suplex Dave right into the damn thing. Not even thinking if he were strong enough to do it, just ruing the notion that concrete isn't the right texture or softness to get that done.]
I mean, technically speakin', I don't think Carol actually has hair.
[He can't believe Dave is insinuating musical infidelities with the station's chatbot. Whatever a chatbot was.]
But if someone were chatting her up, and I definitely ain't sayin' it was me, but if someone were, and the conversation just sorta went in that direction, then whoever that someone is, must've really wanted to share something kinda beautiful with you. I mean, I'd be, like, completely honored.
[Somehow he never saw this coming.
And his eyes follow toward that hand; the moment is near and he doesn't have enough time. Jig's up. Whatever happens, it'll be hot pursuit. He needs to react quickly to throw him off guard. Ryuji uses his other hand to pull Dave closer, hand against the skinny of his back. One hand raises up higher on his shoulder, and the second he can, he's going to aim to sweep him right off his feet.
That is, if Dave doesn't already have a plan up his sleeve.]
Oh, okay. So that was your thought process behind the whole thing.
[got it. but defensively speaking, from the perspective of his original intent here, which is to toss a dry boyfriend in the pool, Dave's kind of gotten himself in a precarious situation. a ... kind of nice one, actually, if you remove the threat of getting turbo dunked back in the deep end.]
[though, if he doesn't move from his current position, it wouldn't take much more than a grand sweeping gesture to send him sprawling backwards, and Ryuji is certainly strong enough to pull that off.]
[but Dave, as they are both well aware, is a dirty cheater.]
[he grabs hold of both of Ryuji's arms, trying to hold them best as he can against Ryuji's sides in an attempt to prevent him from moving well enough to pull off whatever maneuver he's gunning for. and if that doesn't work? he's battening down the hatches and refusing to let go.]
[it's a friendly warning, too. you know. a last chance to back down before Dave really starts cheating.]
[He thought he established very early on that it wasn't hi...
yeah, okay, he can't even play it off any more. He smirks as Dave starts to control the threat in the room. That threat being Ryuji, of course.]
Yeah, fine, whatever, I did it.
[Uh.
Dave, what are you doing.]
This sure is like. A really weird effin' way to give a dude a hug. [And yet, he knows exactly what Dave's doing, playing coy about it isn't going to get himself anywhere near constructive.]
This is how you're supposed to do it. [He exerts opposing pressure against the constraining motion, and, yeah. One of those Newtonian laws he never learned about. For every action there's an opposite and equal reaction, right? Or, more importantly, what goes around fucking comes right back around.]
What're you. [IT'S NOT PANIC IN HIS VOICE AT ALL.] Dave, c'mon. Dude.
[sweet, Dave's strategy of "be annoying and persistent until Ryuji finally relents" paid off. it's something he's done plenty of times in the past, and honestly, it's probably an indication of endearment over anything.]
[and he volleys that smirk right back at Ryuji, grip around his arms tightening. there's no escaping, bro — they're officially in the shit now.]
[in the pool. about to take a trip to "in the pool." one of those.]
What? This is how I always give hugs. You ripping on my form?
[They're really living up this mutually assured destruction thing, huh? It might've just been easier to ask Dave to jump in with him and they both could've avoided this ostensibly aggressive bout of competition. But then again, it doesn't go like that when it comes to these two. The big stuff is miles ahead into the easy zone, whereas things like this are met confrontationally, and Ryuji is just standing there, getting the weirdest fucking bear hug he's ever gotten in his life.]
Well there's a few things I know about you and I'm gonna say that that's buuuuullshit. [There's a roller coaster of intonations in the elongation of the u in that word.
And god, he masochistically plays along with this, like he knows he should break free of his grasp, but like a moth heading straight into the campfire, he remains morbidly curious as to whether or not he's ACTUALLY GOING TO DO IT.]
[is exactly what Dave's hubris is saying. you know, the cocky confidence he's built up after winning all their previous, admittedly very goofy rounds of wrasslin'. though, for all he knows, Ryuji's got some last-ditch effort to break free and lob him over his shoulder, sending him back into the water and officially putting Ryuji on the Dave vs. Ryuji scoreboard. sports board?]
[He thinks long and hard about what he wants to say here. He's kind of... already done the last words with him before, and that was kind of morbid and tranquil at the same time, so anything meaningful he would've wanted to say back then still pretty much applies.
You know, the whole... wanting more time with him, etc etc.
That's not the right context now, as he's literally being forced to walk the plank. Which, strikes him from deep within.]
A fitting way for a pirate to finally go.
[Ryuji, he has no idea who Captain Kidd was, what the hell are you doing.]
With my last breath before this scurvy mutinous [Scurvy's not an adjective, what the fuck-] attempt at my life, I'd like to just say.
[He fathers the courage in his chest to say what's really on his mind, here.]
[... no, he will NOT be swayed by such an incredibly compelling pre-plank speech, even as his grip on Ryuji's arms gives just the slightest, as he transfers that strength into maintaining his poker face.]
[don't you dare laugh, Dave Strider!!!]
[he leans in closer, intent on regaining the control over the situation that he had before Ryuji let loose with probably the smartest thing that either of them have ever said.]
Pretty goddamn moving, dude. [something highly amused is threatening the corners of his mouth again.]
I mean, you're still going in the pool. But don't worry, I'll make sure to throw your Emmy for best speech in after you.
[they don't ... give Emmys for that, Dave. but yeah, he's going to go ahead and start casually shuffling Ryuji to the edge of the pool — if Ryuji's going to fight back, now's the time to do it.]
Except, that's not how any of this is going- in any of this sad state of affairs. He nods, smiling somewhat---]
I think the only thing that's moving is me, to be completely real here.
[There's a phantom experience of his body getting thrown in the water, and the hair on the back of his neck just stands completely on end.
Fuck it.
It's a suicide mission, he's going for it. Ryuji pulls backward, his grappled state working in his benefit, because even if Dave lets go, he's going to try to grab onto his wrist and take him down with him. EAT DIRT, DUDE.
There's the fall of civilized society, right fucking there, as Ryuji feels water his his back, and he quickly tries to close his eyes and hold his breath. Alone, or with a punk ass, mutinous boyfriend in tow?]
[... okay, so, this is how Dave was expecting this to go down: they'd banter with each other for like another minute, maybe there'd be a grand struggle over who got to shove who in the pool, with the shoving and the digging of the heels in the ground, and then Dave would have just busted out his trump card of assigning Ryuji to an actual card in his Sylladex and turning him out into the water.]
Hey— !!
[but, really, knowing Ryuji as well as he does by this point, he should have expected that he'd immediately go for the self-sabotage option! but, he didn't. and so, there he goes, sprawling into the stampede right along with the king of Pride Rock. or the jungle. whichever one results in the funniest splash.]
[in the distance, Simba whirs, then plops in the water right after them. a poolbot's work is never done, witness to a murder or not.]
[All it took was the right amount of stalling and leading the horse to water. He fucking knew Dave would try and sylladex him with a sturdy yeeting canonball straight into the depths below, so all he had to do was... avoid that... somehow.
So in a game where he knows he's going to lose, no matter what the situation was, he decided it would've been better to make losers out of the both of them. And it paid off. It paid off so, so well. Simba's revenge. Pure, unadulterated, revenge.
Ryuji's head pops up above water, a cheeky sort of feature splayed in every nook and cranny of his wide smile as he wades upward and tries to push his already too long hair out of his eyes.
The only thing that sucks about any of this is that he's fully clothed, and it always feels weird to be in water with a shirt on. He swims over to the edge of the pool, an arm draped over the precipice and starts to tug upward on his tee. Hey, he found this one in the pool to begin with, it's like it was just. Coming home, or something like that. A sopping pile of ZOMG piles up alongside him. And true to meathead fashion, it comes to question in his mind whether or not Dave has ever seen him shirtless? He should have more shame.
[if there's any shame at all Ryuji should be feeling at this moment, it's all the terrible pirate jokes he managed to cram into a single five-or-so-minute period. and Dave's all but ready to call him out on it, that his inner monkey pirate is metaphorically not quite so inner, is it, when he pops back above the water's surface, half-heartedly grumbling at his loss. you don't go into death matches like this not expecting to go down with the ship, as it were.]
[he brings a palm to his own forehead, trying to slick back his bangs. that familiar looking wisp of a curl stays stubbornly in place, despite ... pretty much all the odds.]
What, rated R for Ryu — [he suddenly stops, that insult dissolving in the water, as he's spotted a rather morbid looking pattern, a zombie virus branding along Ryuji's back. and he silently swims over to get a better look.]
[Is this the part where the Jaws theme is supposed to play? Dave swimming toward him, probably about to try and drag him back down into the pool, quintuple sextuple revenge stacked tall like shipyard containers waiting to come crash down on poor, young, defenseless Ryu---
Huh?
Oh, yeah.
He remembered there was a reason for his modesty and it wasn't because of his all too scrawny yet ENTIRELY HOT BOD. And it dawns on him that that's the reason Dave is quiet and derailed in following Ryuji's antics about pirate booty and captaining his way straight towards him.]
[that's not an answer to Ryuji's question, Dave. but he's right next to Ryuji now, giving the marking a quiet, appraising once-over. he lifts a hand to touch it, but pauses, then thinks better of it.]
[there's a reason why he asks that specifically. and there's no disapproval in his voice, either.]
[it's because he's hiding something the virus from last month left behind on him, too.]
Nah. It kinda came with me after that zombie bullshit ended.
[Again, in the business of not being dishonest or cagey when he's asked a direct question, Ryuji just flat out tells him. He wasn't particularly proud of it, but there also wasn't something he could really do about it. It's a part of him now, just like the memories of the weeks leading up to it.]
It doesn't hurt or nothin'. [He adds, almost like establishing a permission set for Dave to touch him when Ryuji notices that he intentionally cut his advance short on it. He had almost expected it to happen intrinsically, since he'd do the same if he had seen a dark outline of his spine and ribcage sprawled out all over his back like a member of the Yakuza.]
And I definitely ain't smart enough to know why it's there, but I'm guessin' it's 'cause of how I was slouched up against the wall when my skin started to patch itself back up.
[He's still somewhat self-conscious about it, though. He knows he shouldn't be, but maybe the world doesn't need to be reminded of how everyone almost died in such an obvious sort of way.]
S'it botherin' you? I can put my shirt back on. [Slow down, Ryuji, give Dave a chance to talk. Even as he uses an arm to push his body upward from the ridge of the pool and grab back onto his tee from his position.]
[yeah, Dave can tell that he seems pretty nervous about having it out on display, which ... is pretty much the last thing he wants Ryuji to be feeling over it. he doesn't hesitate again — he reaches out and touches him, fingers brushing against the discoloration along the small of his back.]
[and maybe it calls back to the way he held Ryuji's wrist, having noticed the way disease was spreading through his veins. Dave, admittedly, doesn't remember those few moments very clearly, but he definitely remembers how worried he was.]
[but ... they aren't sick anymore. it's a branding, yes, a reminder of probably one of the worst days of their lives, but, at the same time, it's. well, he's a kid who's been in the presence of who knows how many different versions of himself and others over the years. Dave sees it as a way to immediately know for sure when he's got his Ryuji in a sea of endless timelines.]
[is that weird? being possessive like that? god, that's weird. maybe he should keep that thought to himself.]
Don't. [don't reach for the shirt. don't worry about how it looks.]
I mean, you're right, there was a lot of zombie bullshit that led to it, but ... in the end, it's still you, right? So, it's cool. You don't have to worry about it or anything.
[which makes Dave a temporary hypocrite. he moves on to fix that.]
I'm kinda relieved, if you want me to be real here. Not like — not like how that just came out. I just mean that I figured I was alone on the virus leftovers thing.
[Ryuji, on the other hand, remembers it intensely and in vivid colors. The island of Khaki. The "what the hell is this-" stated so flatly and stern as Dave grabbed his wrist, and then trying to play it off like it was fine. And then bargaining to have a few more minutes to just be with him so that he could stop worrying about Dave being sick and getting some sleep.]
Okay.
[He gives up reaching out for his shirt. It's sad how into that touch he really is, just a small confirmation that it's okay, even if the words are there to back it up. Holding himself up against the edge of the pool, he moves his arms so that his head could rest against the crease of one of his elbows, nose buried into it.
It's not something that he says outright, but like this, he knows he feels vulnerable in some sort of way. Not that he really believes he's superman or anything like that, but Dave's fingers against his skin and the way it sends up signals to the back of his neck calm some of that. Or maybe... not exactly calm, but manageable. He's okay when he shares himself with Dave, so maybe that possessiveness he's got stirring up in his brain isn't that weird or unfounded.
But just like that, he snaps out of it as he brings his head up again to look over his shoulders. What?]
... where is it? [Because he's committed almost everything he's seen of Dave to memory and nothing had seemed out of place after the virus struck. And that might make him a bit of a hypocrite, too, when he's avoided wearing his tank top or not taking his shirt off to sleep with Dave like he normally does before falling asleep.]
[Dave over here, meanwhile, willingly wore a felt tuxedo around a planet that was less a planet and more a ball of boiling lava and crocodiles. so maybe it's a little less surprising that he tends to favor gear of the long sleeved variety regardless of whatever the weather is.]
[and he seems to think about that for a few seconds, before he mentally shrugs at himself, not as fussed about hiding himself as he could be, especially considering he's the one who brought it up in the first place, and besides, this seems like one of those moments where they're both really trying to share something, and he doesn't want to just back out and cry foul on that. because he's actually making headway on the not-being-so-cagey thing, right? so he goes ahead and tugs the hem of his shirt upward, peeling it off and tossing it aside. a broken record and a pair of sunglasses join a ZOMG.]
[you don't really live the kind of life Dave has without collecting a few battle scars. he's not a swimming pile of ribbons, really, but there are certainly a few prominent ones there. the focal point here, though, is the way his shoulders, from collarbone to arm to shoulderblade, seem to be illuminated, a spread of pinpricks of light, almost like looking at a cloth of fiber optics. almost like he's got all the weight of space on his shoulders.]
[he thinks about it a few seconds further, before deciding to elaborate on them. like he's both a planetarium and the guy running the joint.]
[Two sopping wet shirts piled in lumps next to each other, two boys in the pool. Ryuji's eyes follow toward his shoulders, to what looks like Dave's skin... the same skin that's become a colander held over a flashlight, little nodules of light emanating off of him. Maybe not emanating so much as reflecting? It's not like he can discern the distance, and he finds himself letting go of the ledge to stand on his tippy toes toward the edge of the pool, a bend in the bottom that raises upward enough to provide him some stable ground to position himself up toward.
The other stripes, too, don't go unnoticed, as they balance between the light and dark along his body, and Ryuji finds himself looking between both almost simultaneously. Funny how it riles up something inside him, angry at whatever had done that to leave any sort of mark on his body. But it's not what Dave was pulling attention to, as he says that they used to be freckles, and his attention comes back to his shoulders.
So, the virus had left them both presents. His skin had never healed right and turned a morbid sort of dark, where Dave's... lit up like the sky in the countryside of Japan, and perhaps someone else would think it looked weird, or eerie, but Ryuji?]
Holy shit... This is beautiful. [He can't contain himself, either, as a hand lifts out of the water, dripping downward from the momentary wetness of being places under the depths of the pool's meniscus. An index finger traces along a path between two or three of them, constellations everywhere for someone that wanted to look for them. He's trying to find the biggest one as he takes this all in, and it's apparent how he searches across his skin until he hands on one that he thinks, this has to be it.]
Hey, I think I found the north star. [Ever one to become entirely too flirtatious without even trying, or saying some decently earnest and candid stuff as it crosses his mind, Ryuji's eyes look upward, brows arched in a little bit of surprise at everything he's taking in.] Guess that's how I'm gonna figure out which way home is, huh?
[Ryuji's just standing there mapping new horoscopes on his shoulders, and Dave's also left there letting him, enjoying the touch, suddenly feeling a little silly for wanting to hide it in the first place. but then, Ryuji had hid his, too, so ... chalk it up to the both of them behaving similarly when it comes to the serious moments they share with each other, as they're always wont to do.]
You think so? [Dave is used to being called cute by this point. beautiful is kind of a new one, though — new enough that it lingers, like an August heat wave in Texas on his cheeks.]
[he sort of wonders if Ryuji would still be doing this if they were the regular freckles he used to have. honestly ... probably. that's what he would figure.]
I guess I wouldn't mind standing out in the open shirtless if you were ever lost and needed a lighthouse. [Dave. what? that's not very romantic, nor is that the purpose of lighthouses.]
I mean ... I get what you're saying there, I think. There's pretty much nothing to like about everything that happened last month.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[but yeah, it's true, it was a great prank, he'll admit it. and you can bet he'll also be using the space station AI responsibly to return the pranking favor.]
Really? I was gonna tell whoever was responsible thanks.
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Maybe Dave really liked the smooth stylings of jazz circa way too goddamn long ago. Maybe he had a dance party right then and there. Ryuji follows this train of thought, because he's gullible sometimes, and why would Dave ever lead him astray, right? Right?
He bites down on one corner of his lip, and nods. Well, if he was really into the entire thing, he definitely did Dave a favor.]
Must be that, uh. That station AI. Christy.
[Fuck, Ryuji. No.
That's not its name at all.]
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[it's Dave's turn to close the gap between them, then.]
Well, someone had to tell Kristoff which room to drop off some smooth jazz.
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Yeah, he's definitely making this really easy. His lips twitch, and he tries to straighten them out by force, restricting and forbidding the muscles in his mouth to start turning upward in concavity. He'll just... reach out, now that they're close enough and place a hand right on his shoulder.
If he's going down, he's going to at least try to take Dave with him.]
Maybe Crystal just likes that style of music, are we really gonna judge?
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[mutually assured destruction it is, then. what's Dave got to lose? Simba already dunked him to the murky depths once already today, may as well go down in a blaze of pseudo vengeful glory.]
I'm just saying, chatbots don't get random wild hairs about sharing their music tastes on their own, right? [Dave, don't ... don't call the station's AI a chatbot??]
I figure someone must have been, I dunno. Texting with Cynthia or something.
[he punctuates that by lifting his hand to his own shoulder, casually wrapping his fingers around the top of Ryuji's wrist.]
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I mean, technically speakin', I don't think Carol actually has hair.
[He can't believe Dave is insinuating musical infidelities with the station's chatbot. Whatever a chatbot was.]
But if someone were chatting her up, and I definitely ain't sayin' it was me, but if someone were, and the conversation just sorta went in that direction, then whoever that someone is, must've really wanted to share something kinda beautiful with you. I mean, I'd be, like, completely honored.
[Somehow he never saw this coming.
And his eyes follow toward that hand; the moment is near and he doesn't have enough time. Jig's up. Whatever happens, it'll be hot pursuit. He needs to react quickly to throw him off guard. Ryuji uses his other hand to pull Dave closer, hand against the skinny of his back. One hand raises up higher on his shoulder, and the second he can, he's going to aim to sweep him right off his feet.
That is, if Dave doesn't already have a plan up his sleeve.]
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[got it. but defensively speaking, from the perspective of his original intent here, which is to toss a dry boyfriend in the pool, Dave's kind of gotten himself in a precarious situation. a ... kind of nice one, actually, if you remove the threat of getting turbo dunked back in the deep end.]
[though, if he doesn't move from his current position, it wouldn't take much more than a grand sweeping gesture to send him sprawling backwards, and Ryuji is certainly strong enough to pull that off.]
[but Dave, as they are both well aware, is a dirty cheater.]
[he grabs hold of both of Ryuji's arms, trying to hold them best as he can against Ryuji's sides in an attempt to prevent him from moving well enough to pull off whatever maneuver he's gunning for. and if that doesn't work? he's battening down the hatches and refusing to let go.]
[it's a friendly warning, too. you know. a last chance to back down before Dave really starts cheating.]
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[He thought he established very early on that it wasn't hi...
yeah, okay, he can't even play it off any more. He smirks as Dave starts to control the threat in the room. That threat being Ryuji, of course.]
Yeah, fine, whatever, I did it.
[Uh.
Dave, what are you doing.]
This sure is like. A really weird effin' way to give a dude a hug. [And yet, he knows exactly what Dave's doing, playing coy about it isn't going to get himself anywhere near constructive.]
This is how you're supposed to do it. [He exerts opposing pressure against the constraining motion, and, yeah. One of those Newtonian laws he never learned about. For every action there's an opposite and equal reaction, right? Or, more importantly, what goes around fucking comes right back around.]
What're you. [IT'S NOT PANIC IN HIS VOICE AT ALL.] Dave, c'mon. Dude.
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[and he volleys that smirk right back at Ryuji, grip around his arms tightening. there's no escaping, bro — they're officially in the shit now.]
[in the pool. about to take a trip to "in the pool." one of those.]
What? This is how I always give hugs. You ripping on my form?
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Well there's a few things I know about you and I'm gonna say that that's buuuuullshit. [There's a roller coaster of intonations in the elongation of the u in that word.
And god, he masochistically plays along with this, like he knows he should break free of his grasp, but like a moth heading straight into the campfire, he remains morbidly curious as to whether or not he's ACTUALLY GOING TO DO IT.]
Do I... do I get any last words?
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[is exactly what Dave's hubris is saying. you know, the cocky confidence he's built up after winning all their previous, admittedly very goofy rounds of wrasslin'. though, for all he knows, Ryuji's got some last-ditch effort to break free and lob him over his shoulder, sending him back into the water and officially putting Ryuji on the Dave vs. Ryuji scoreboard. sports board?]
Yeah, all right. Let's hear 'em.
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You know, the whole... wanting more time with him, etc etc.
That's not the right context now, as he's literally being forced to walk the plank. Which, strikes him from deep within.]
A fitting way for a pirate to finally go.
[Ryuji, he has no idea who Captain Kidd was, what the hell are you doing.]
With my last breath before this scurvy mutinous [Scurvy's not an adjective, what the fuck-] attempt at my life, I'd like to just say.
[He fathers the courage in his chest to say what's really on his mind, here.]
Penis.
[Okay, he's said his peace.]
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[don't you dare laugh, Dave Strider!!!]
[he leans in closer, intent on regaining the control over the situation that he had before Ryuji let loose with probably the smartest thing that either of them have ever said.]
Pretty goddamn moving, dude. [something highly amused is threatening the corners of his mouth again.]
I mean, you're still going in the pool. But don't worry, I'll make sure to throw your Emmy for best speech in after you.
[they don't ... give Emmys for that, Dave. but yeah, he's going to go ahead and start casually shuffling Ryuji to the edge of the pool — if Ryuji's going to fight back, now's the time to do it.]
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Except, that's not how any of this is going- in any of this sad state of affairs. He nods, smiling somewhat---]
I think the only thing that's moving is me, to be completely real here.
[There's a phantom experience of his body getting thrown in the water, and the hair on the back of his neck just stands completely on end.
Fuck it.
It's a suicide mission, he's going for it. Ryuji pulls backward, his grappled state working in his benefit, because even if Dave lets go, he's going to try to grab onto his wrist and take him down with him. EAT DIRT, DUDE.
There's the fall of civilized society, right fucking there, as Ryuji feels water his his back, and he quickly tries to close his eyes and hold his breath. Alone, or with a punk ass, mutinous boyfriend in tow?]
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Hey— !!
[but, really, knowing Ryuji as well as he does by this point, he should have expected that he'd immediately go for the self-sabotage option! but, he didn't. and so, there he goes, sprawling into the stampede right along with the king of Pride Rock. or the jungle. whichever one results in the funniest splash.]
[in the distance, Simba whirs, then plops in the water right after them. a poolbot's work is never done, witness to a murder or not.]
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So in a game where he knows he's going to lose, no matter what the situation was, he decided it would've been better to make losers out of the both of them. And it paid off. It paid off so, so well. Simba's revenge. Pure, unadulterated, revenge.
Ryuji's head pops up above water, a cheeky sort of feature splayed in every nook and cranny of his wide smile as he wades upward and tries to push his already too long hair out of his eyes.
The only thing that sucks about any of this is that he's fully clothed, and it always feels weird to be in water with a shirt on. He swims over to the edge of the pool, an arm draped over the precipice and starts to tug upward on his tee. Hey, he found this one in the pool to begin with, it's like it was just. Coming home, or something like that. A sopping pile of ZOMG piles up alongside him. And true to meathead fashion, it comes to question in his mind whether or not Dave has ever seen him shirtless? He should have more shame.
Nah.]
Sorry for makin' this... rated aRRRR, matey.
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[he brings a palm to his own forehead, trying to slick back his bangs. that familiar looking wisp of a curl stays stubbornly in place, despite ... pretty much all the odds.]
What, rated R for Ryu — [he suddenly stops, that insult dissolving in the water, as he's spotted a rather morbid looking pattern, a zombie virus branding along Ryuji's back. and he silently swims over to get a better look.]
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Huh?
Oh, yeah.
He remembered there was a reason for his modesty and it wasn't because of his all too scrawny yet ENTIRELY HOT BOD. And it dawns on him that that's the reason Dave is quiet and derailed in following Ryuji's antics about pirate booty and captaining his way straight towards him.]
Yeah, uh, so like. You chill with back tattoos?
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[that's not an answer to Ryuji's question, Dave. but he's right next to Ryuji now, giving the marking a quiet, appraising once-over. he lifts a hand to touch it, but pauses, then thinks better of it.]
[there's a reason why he asks that specifically. and there's no disapproval in his voice, either.]
[it's because he's hiding something the virus from last month left behind on him, too.]
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[Again, in the business of not being dishonest or cagey when he's asked a direct question, Ryuji just flat out tells him. He wasn't particularly proud of it, but there also wasn't something he could really do about it. It's a part of him now, just like the memories of the weeks leading up to it.]
It doesn't hurt or nothin'. [He adds, almost like establishing a permission set for Dave to touch him when Ryuji notices that he intentionally cut his advance short on it. He had almost expected it to happen intrinsically, since he'd do the same if he had seen a dark outline of his spine and ribcage sprawled out all over his back like a member of the Yakuza.]
And I definitely ain't smart enough to know why it's there, but I'm guessin' it's 'cause of how I was slouched up against the wall when my skin started to patch itself back up.
[He's still somewhat self-conscious about it, though. He knows he shouldn't be, but maybe the world doesn't need to be reminded of how everyone almost died in such an obvious sort of way.]
S'it botherin' you? I can put my shirt back on. [Slow down, Ryuji, give Dave a chance to talk. Even as he uses an arm to push his body upward from the ridge of the pool and grab back onto his tee from his position.]
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[and maybe it calls back to the way he held Ryuji's wrist, having noticed the way disease was spreading through his veins. Dave, admittedly, doesn't remember those few moments very clearly, but he definitely remembers how worried he was.]
[but ... they aren't sick anymore. it's a branding, yes, a reminder of probably one of the worst days of their lives, but, at the same time, it's. well, he's a kid who's been in the presence of who knows how many different versions of himself and others over the years. Dave sees it as a way to immediately know for sure when he's got his Ryuji in a sea of endless timelines.]
[is that weird? being possessive like that? god, that's weird. maybe he should keep that thought to himself.]
Don't. [don't reach for the shirt. don't worry about how it looks.]
I mean, you're right, there was a lot of zombie bullshit that led to it, but ... in the end, it's still you, right? So, it's cool. You don't have to worry about it or anything.
[which makes Dave a temporary hypocrite. he moves on to fix that.]
I'm kinda relieved, if you want me to be real here. Not like — not like how that just came out. I just mean that I figured I was alone on the virus leftovers thing.
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Okay.
[He gives up reaching out for his shirt. It's sad how into that touch he really is, just a small confirmation that it's okay, even if the words are there to back it up. Holding himself up against the edge of the pool, he moves his arms so that his head could rest against the crease of one of his elbows, nose buried into it.
It's not something that he says outright, but like this, he knows he feels vulnerable in some sort of way. Not that he really believes he's superman or anything like that, but Dave's fingers against his skin and the way it sends up signals to the back of his neck calm some of that. Or maybe... not exactly calm, but manageable. He's okay when he shares himself with Dave, so maybe that possessiveness he's got stirring up in his brain isn't that weird or unfounded.
But just like that, he snaps out of it as he brings his head up again to look over his shoulders. What?]
... where is it? [Because he's committed almost everything he's seen of Dave to memory and nothing had seemed out of place after the virus struck. And that might make him a bit of a hypocrite, too, when he's avoided wearing his tank top or not taking his shirt off to sleep with Dave like he normally does before falling asleep.]
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[and he seems to think about that for a few seconds, before he mentally shrugs at himself, not as fussed about hiding himself as he could be, especially considering he's the one who brought it up in the first place, and besides, this seems like one of those moments where they're both really trying to share something, and he doesn't want to just back out and cry foul on that. because he's actually making headway on the not-being-so-cagey thing, right? so he goes ahead and tugs the hem of his shirt upward, peeling it off and tossing it aside. a broken record and a pair of sunglasses join a ZOMG.]
[you don't really live the kind of life Dave has without collecting a few battle scars. he's not a swimming pile of ribbons, really, but there are certainly a few prominent ones there. the focal point here, though, is the way his shoulders, from collarbone to arm to shoulderblade, seem to be illuminated, a spread of pinpricks of light, almost like looking at a cloth of fiber optics. almost like he's got all the weight of space on his shoulders.]
[he thinks about it a few seconds further, before deciding to elaborate on them. like he's both a planetarium and the guy running the joint.]
They, uh. Used to be freckles.
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The other stripes, too, don't go unnoticed, as they balance between the light and dark along his body, and Ryuji finds himself looking between both almost simultaneously. Funny how it riles up something inside him, angry at whatever had done that to leave any sort of mark on his body. But it's not what Dave was pulling attention to, as he says that they used to be freckles, and his attention comes back to his shoulders.
So, the virus had left them both presents. His skin had never healed right and turned a morbid sort of dark, where Dave's... lit up like the sky in the countryside of Japan, and perhaps someone else would think it looked weird, or eerie, but Ryuji?]
Holy shit... This is beautiful. [He can't contain himself, either, as a hand lifts out of the water, dripping downward from the momentary wetness of being places under the depths of the pool's meniscus. An index finger traces along a path between two or three of them, constellations everywhere for someone that wanted to look for them. He's trying to find the biggest one as he takes this all in, and it's apparent how he searches across his skin until he hands on one that he thinks, this has to be it.]
Hey, I think I found the north star. [Ever one to become entirely too flirtatious without even trying, or saying some decently earnest and candid stuff as it crosses his mind, Ryuji's eyes look upward, brows arched in a little bit of surprise at everything he's taking in.] Guess that's how I'm gonna figure out which way home is, huh?
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You think so? [Dave is used to being called cute by this point. beautiful is kind of a new one, though — new enough that it lingers, like an August heat wave in Texas on his cheeks.]
[he sort of wonders if Ryuji would still be doing this if they were the regular freckles he used to have. honestly ... probably. that's what he would figure.]
I guess I wouldn't mind standing out in the open shirtless if you were ever lost and needed a lighthouse. [Dave. what? that's not very romantic, nor is that the purpose of lighthouses.]
I mean ... I get what you're saying there, I think. There's pretty much nothing to like about everything that happened last month.
But I do really like the way you look right now.
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