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[ he leaves his palm pressed against the side of junpei's face for a moment, cupping his cheek and brushing his thumb over his cheekbone, imagining that he can feel the way his skin would be warm to the touch. ]

You do that, [ he says softly, and very carefully does not let his own imagination run anywhere at all — the sweet, tender kiss is partly to distract himself from everything that he could be thinking about and doesn't allow... but the bigger part of it is simply because it is what he wants, to pour all of his love and adoration into the kiss, to make junpei feel treasured.

as junpei settles down against him, he adjusts the arm that's around him, then moves his other hand from his cheek to his hair, running his hand through the strands, presses his fingertips against his scalp and moves them in a downward line, in steady circles, before dragging his hand right back to the top of his head to start the process all over again. yes, it's impromptu head massage time while he talks more about ikea — ]

Love, you know that DIY's not assembling furniture, it's building it yourself out of like, parts you got separately?

[ he breathes a laugh. ] Don't got to chop wood, but I'd buy a ready-made piece of wood, and some angle brackets, and bolt it together myself.

[He could fall asleep like this, honestly‐ comfortable and content, with Charles' fingers in his hair, who could blame him? But he won't, or at least he will try very hard not to doze off, and...

Hold on,] Wait, what? It's do it yourself, not do it yourself but only if you buy all the stuff separately and don't use directions. Come on. Why wouldn't something from the store be DIY?

[He's absolutely convinced of this, it makes perfect sense to him. If he wasn't slowly melting under Charles' hand he would sit up to debate this, so, pros and cons.]

Like, if I'm putting together a shitty nightstand made of that crappy pressed wood chip stuff that I bought for six dollars and that's gonna sit in my apartment forever because getting new furniture is pricey bullshit, I should at least get to call it done-by-myself.

[Example that's too specific to be made up #846.]

[ he breathes out a laugh, his fingers still continuing on their up-and-down path, combing through junpei's hair gently as he says, ] Well, let's call it different degrees of DIY then, yeah?

[ store-bought diy and assembled out of separately-bought parts diy... he's pretty sure there's a third degree that's make-all-the-parts-yourself, but even he's not that crafty.

and then, with some amusement, ] Hey, you totally get to call it done-by-yourself. I'm not saying that. [ a pause — ] What's your place like, back home?

[Degrees of DIY... you know, Junpei can sense when he's being humored, but does he care? Does it matter to him, ultimately, when Charles is still massaging his scalp and they are going to do some amount of shelf assembly in the future? Nah, he's good. This is great, actually. So,]

Third degree DIY. Someone's gonna show up here with that written down as their bullshit crime, now.

[For, like, building a death ray or something, who knows! Anyway, his shitty apartment, huh...]

My apartment...? Uh, it's just a regular one-bedroom with a lot of that pulpy furniture, I guess. Crummy air conditioner, which isn't great all the time, since, you know. Desert. Shower's small, probably should change the locks...

[But it's greeeaaat, yeahhhh...] The curtains are kind of nice.

[ but consider: charles is humouring him entirely out of love — and, well, alright, a little because he doesn't want to have a debate on the exact definition of diy right now. so this is nice — he laughs at the part about the crime, since, yeah, he can kind of see that happening... and then, as junpei talks about his apartment, he slowly alternates between the circles he's been pressing against junpei's head, and quite simply running his fingers through his hair, looping an errant strand of hair around his finger. ]

Well, if the curtains are nice — [ right, no, the quip aside... that doesn't sound particularly good, which charles just files under one more thing in junpei's life back home that's, you know. not great. ]

... Think you'd like London, [ he says then, a non-sequitur except for all the ways it's really not. ]

[Third degree DIY lives on, thanks to Charles encouraging Junpei's best annoying habits. And Junpei knows how his apartment sounds—incredibly shitty—and that's because it pretty much is. Half of that is simply the reality of being a college student with a retail job, but the other half—the half that's magazines stacked up unread in a corner, laundry that has fallen wherever it happened to land and has laid there collecting dust for weeks, well...

Well, it shouldn't come as a surprise anymore that Junpei will put himself into unpleasant situations (shitty apartment) and then remain indefinitely (not pick up his shirts). His room at the inn stayed nondescript only for lack of residency time, and their cozy house is, well, cozy because he isn't staring at the walls by himself this time around. Every time Charles runs fingers through his hair Junpei retains the ability to do dishes the same day the dishes are used, it's a perfect system. Maybe he would like London.]

How are the curtains? [ha ha,] I mean, if you're there, I'm there, but if we're talking about a vertical blinds situation, I dunno...

Um, [ says charles and winces, because, ] We... don't have curtains.

[ for a second there, his hand in junpei's hair stalls, as if he's so struck by this realisation he freezes entirely. he's never really given this much thought, clearly; not least because the agency, as much as it is his home, it's also, well, the office.

he continues, at his own peril, ]

Or blinds, actually. Never really needed either, did we? Besides, it's technically supposed to be abandoned, the office that is, would look right weird if there were curtains...

[Oh, no curtains, okay—oh and he's still explaining it, Charles, honey... Junpei decides not to make a quip about how he'd totally like an abandoned building, huh?—"supposed to" is doing a lot of heavy lifting there, he has to assume.]

I mean, you can still see, like... the sun.

[Does the sun shining directly in one's face not bother a ghost, he would fail step one of that test—

Whatever! He shrugs, waving his hand like it's nothing, because it is nothing, it's a bit about the drapes.]

I'll get you one of those cardboard three-fold things. Bam, instant "totally abandoned building" curtains. DIY curtains, if you're feeling clever.

[Ha. Anyway,] But it doesn't really matter. I told you: if you're there, I'm good.

Love, it's London, [ charles says with a wry smile, ] It's rain or fog, 80% of the time.

[ what is this sun you speak of... anyway! he laughs at the diy curtains, because of course he does... before junpei's words that follow make his amused expression soften into something almost abashed, something like wonder in his eyes — like he can't quite believe it, that him alone would ever be... enough. that junpei really wouldn't need anything else.

it seems for a moment that he's going to say something — but all the words get caught inside his throat, and in the end, he quite simply tightens his hand around junpei's waist, pulls him closer to him all the while moving his hand to support his head at the same time as charles turns more sideways, to be able to truly pull him into a kiss. ]

You can look at rain.

[Why sit in a windowless room and be miserable, damn!! There are few nice things about Junpei's apartment back home, but being able to look out a window sometimes is pretty high up there. Get curtains, dang.

But oh, okay, something is definitely happening that takes Junpei a second to catch up with - he's still thinking about looking at rain - although it's simple enough to lean into the kiss. He gets it, when he actually catches up and thinks about it, and it's incredible sometimes to think that in this, of all things, they are... the same? Charles is wonderful and perfect, obviously, it's insane to think that he wouldn't be enough - more than enough! - whereas it's a wonder a weird little freak like Junpei gets to have something like this at all.

Of course, Charles doesn't like it when he says that kind of thing, so Junpei simply leans into him, wiggling his hands up to cup Charles' face and keep them locked in close like this after the kiss ends.]

Do you want to go home and listen to records? [he says, quietly, like listening to records at home is code for going home and doing more of this. And also listening to records.] We can close all the blinds and pretend it's raining.

[ha ha.]

[ he can, indeed, look at rain — but that's secondary to everything else here, to the way junpei feels in his arms, the way charles imagines the warmth of those hands against his face; he lets out a quiet sigh, takes one moment to simply look at junpei, like he's something infinitely precious and good and lovely. ]

... Yeah, [ he says, quiet words falling in the space between them. and it's definitely going to be more of this — but nothing to say they can't play music, too. maybe they'll have to listen to it all again later, to focus on it properly instead of getting lost in each other, but that's just fine. ]

Yeah, I'd like that. [ a pause. ] Blinds and all. [ because there have been times already when he's sort of wished they could just forget about the world; maybe this time they really can, ignore everything that isn't them like nothing else really matters. ]

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