![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
GOLDEN PEACOCK: INBOX+OVERFLOW
@matoba
▶ TEXT
▶ AUDIO
▶ VIDEO
▶ ACTION
▶ AUDIO
▶ VIDEO
▶ ACTION
@kuromisa
▶ TEXT
▶ AUDIO
▶ VIDEO
▶ ACTION
▶ AUDIO
▶ VIDEO
▶ ACTION
[Open Season profile/inbox are here.]
no subject
You sure came fast with cake on the line. I’ll have to remember that. [ does he sound bitter? maybe a little. ] They were sent to my room so I should be the one to eat them. Right?
[ Does he want any of these? No. But he does want to make Matoba jealous, so he’s willing to try—which is why he sticks a hand into the box and pulls out a particularly decorative box with a specially decorated cake. Huh… why does it look like a birthday penis? He hadn’t studied the designs on the cakes before. ]
Aaaaaaall for me.
no subject
[Ro is leveled with a very familiar expression of disappointment and scathing judgment; it's a face he gets a lot from Matoba, now that they're spending so much time around one another. Sleeping in the same bed, sharing idle time in the same room, even accompanying one another now and then on outings for food and entertainment.]
[But it doesn't mean much. It's just a much better room than his own, currently ransacked by the resort and idle newcomers.]
[It does, however, mean that he has to put up with this obstinate brute. There is quite a bit of Rokurou's nonsense that Matoba will tolerate, but theft of his rightfully-earned treats?? Matoba hasn't filled up those 118 point cards at Great Tit! for nothing, you know, and he intends to claim his rightful reward.]
[Matoba takes another, threatening step after Rokurou as he digs into the box. That's his penis cake.]
Is that right, Mister "I don't like sweets"? Do you think you could stomach them all?
no subject
[ Sticking a toe over the line, he picks up that blue box and cracks it open. He’s really going to do it just for the sake of pissing Matoba off.
What’s domestic bliss without some spice?
After lifting the cake box lid a melodic tune springs out cheerfully: Happy Birthday to Youuuuu 🎶 Happy Birthday to Youuuuuu 🎵 May Your Day Be Sweet and Creaaaammmyyyy 🎵 Happy Birthday to Youuuuuu!
Rokurou looks up, dumbfounded. ]
Is it your—?
[ Before he can finish, however, cream shoots from the tip of the birthday penis and splatters all over the side of Rokurou’s face and throat. He is silent, expression stony, as thick, rich, deliciously fragrant cream drips down his jaw and collarbone. ]
no subject
[The dry, backhanded retort comes as exhausting thoughts fill Matoba's mind to a brim- the quaint insistence towards the Earth being flat; Ro's revelation that he hadn't even glanced at Matoba's name in his profile in 6-odd months of intermingling; his utterly puppy-soft blindness towards him as "Misa".]
[And yet here he is, with boxes addressed to him being sent to the man's room. How vexing.]
[He makes another furious lunge forward as Rokurou begins to rifle through the cakes and unboxes one, but as he lays hands upon a thick arm to try and wrestle his sweets free, the sing-song twinkle from the cake stops him in his tracks, dumbfounded, just as it does the daemon as it suddenly shoots all over his face.]
[Oh. Better him than Matoba, he supposes.]
Ahh.... That explains it.
[Matoba leans forward, Rokurou's scent and the sweet aroma of cream mingling as he runs his tongue in a stroke up the sinew of his throat, flicking away at the corner of his jaw. He leans back again and considers the taste with an indulgent expression.]
Not quite yet, although this is a pleasant surprise.
no subject
Rokurou decidedly closes the top of the cake box. While he hadn’t really wanted it in the first place, getting a creamshot to the face has more or less killed the desire to harass Matoba via mass cake consumption.
Besides. It wouldn’t be right to eat another man’s birthday penis. ]
Fine. I won’t eat it all, since it’s going to be your birthday. [ he gives up and slides the large packing box in front of Matoba so the man can explore his new gifts, ] But try to pace yourself. You’ll get sick if you eat it all at once.
no subject
[He might have tasted the fudge from the communal tubs once, yeah, but he also fucked him into a cake. There's surely no rock bottom to his perversion when it comes to sweets! He can't escape now.]
Oh, what a gracious early birthday gift, [He rolls his eyes as he leans away again and grips onto the back to whisk it away from Ro as quickly as possible, like a toddler snatching up his ball and stomping off.] I'm not a child, I know my limits.
[He drags the box over to the part of the apartment he's claimed for his own little pile of clothing and things and sits it there with a note of finality. This is his box of dicks!! See? Not a child.]
It's in about four days, so this should last plenty until then.
no subject
Four days is not enough for all of that.
[ That box is full?? There are a few cute novelty items, like the kitten tote bag and a special cake fork, but the rest of the box is all dessert. A disgusting amount of dessert. He can only stand there (🧍♂️) and wonder just how much Matoba has spent at the cafe to have earned this. And, puzzle over how the exorcist isn’t extremely fat by this point.
Rolling his eyes and unable to look at Matoba lusting over his baked treasures anymore, Rokurou busies himself with folding the clean laundry. ]
Four days, huh… did your clan ever celebrate it? We didn’t do things like that, in mine.
no subject
[You know, different from when he actually goes to the bakery! Where he will continue to spend his chips. Now Ro knows where all the fucking money goes that he earns by being in his bed.]
[For a moment in the span of Ro's musing, Matoba is quiet. With Ro's back turned to him, he doesn't see the way the man is looking at him, recalling his "birthday bash".]
Of course. It's always been an overwrought affair with plenty of local exorcists and all of our clan's connections of note sending their well-wishes, even back before I inherited leadership of the clan, [He replies, but his voice is distant and distracted.] ...What do you mean, you don't celebrate your birthday?
no subject
He hums, keeping his eyes down on the clothes as he meticulously folds each article. Every corner must be sharp. Every inch must be smooth. We do not abide wrinkles in this house. ]
A big affair, huh? Sounds like a sight to see. [ he huffs, ] I mean exactly what I said—I never celebrated it before coming here, and wouldn’t have if the house hadn’t set something up on its own. Being born isn’t an accomplishment, and we were servants for a lord. I usually forget all about it…
[ He leans back on his haunches, looking up at the ceiling. ]
Most of us die young, anyway. My other four brothers are gone now. Life and death, it’s all the same… huh, you know, I don’t remember when they died either.
no subject
[...Well, things were quite different, in the past.]
[Matoba knows this. Children were not considered as being relinquished by the gods until they were well past toddler-hood; that Rokurou was only number 6 and he and his 5 brothers made it to any sort of adulthood at all was a wonder. Perhaps there were others, daughters or sons that didn't even make it to being numbered.]
[Quite a far cry from the modern comforts of being one of two siblings, and moreso than that, the spare that succeeded. For the Matoba, surviving to adulthood was especially worth celebrating; he can't understand that way of thinking from Rokurou. To survive this long ought to be a miracle, for someone like him. It explains more and more and more about his outlook- of his clan's survival, of his own. An utter lack of instinct to it, just a tool and nothing more.]
[Mouth settled into a frown, Matoba's hands fidget over his penis cakes as he closes the box back up. A shame, all these cream cakes won't fit in a refrigerator, anyway... Hopefully, they're not a fresh cream.] If it's so rare for you to survive this long, then that is more reason to congratulate than not, hm?
...When was it? [He knows quite well when Rokurou's birthday was.]
no subject
[ He doesn’t sound particularly depressed when speaking about the deaths of so many of his clan members. It’s detached and clinically spoken, as if merely discussing the fake weather in the vale or what the new menu items at Birdbucks are. All things are fleeting. Moments, relationships, life. Loss and loneliness feel natural.
He finally looks back at Matoba, giving the exorcist a crooked little smile. ]
Ah? It was one of the summer months. June… 15th? No, 16th. [ he snorts at the frown on the other man’s face before gently teasing, ] What’s with that look? Tools don’t need birthdays. Precious clan heirs, on the other hand—should I try to plan a banquet for you? It wouldn’t be filled with exorcists though.
no subject
[When Rokurou looks back, Matoba is watching him. His face isn't smiling, nor is it serious. Instead, there's a lucid watchfulness- as though he is looking through Rokurou to something much deeper than the weak grin he wears which barely covers anything.]
[Not half as elegant a lie as even the paper-thin mask he is accustomed to looking through. Another poor liar.]
[It's practically child's play to prod through that one when he already knows all the holes, but he's had to take a lot of time to learn the weak points in Rokurou's armor. Even with the gaping one the resort had given him from the start, there was more yet to uncover. This time, it's Rokurou himself who hands it to him. But this far in, he doesn't strip it away to toy with prey like a cat. He has a different aim, now, which he has only half-acknowledged to himself.]
[He cocks his head as Rokurou goes on blithely lying- blinking, and considering him more openly. He ignores the man's answer to his question, largely irrelevant and mostly a way to keep him talking, and the rest of the deflection, to instead aim truer.] Heeeh............. [A small smile, unreadably playful. It is not.] Do you think that would make me happy?
no subject
[ As for a large banquet filled with colleagues and clan members? He’s less certain. Matoba hadn’t seemed especially nostalgic when mentioning it earlier. But he won’t even try to guess, having made so many incorrect judgements about the exorcist in the past. ]
As for banquets and grand affairs, I don’t know. What would you want to do for your birthday, if you had a choice?
[ Funny, how the similarities in their familial structure give him a special kind of bird’s eye view. When it comes to the head of a clan, even one such as Rokurou’s, attending to overwrought affairs is an obligation of the seat. His mother had, and his brother had. Neither had enjoyed it.
He continues to keep his hands busy, primly tucking the folded clothes into their place in the dresser drawer. ]
no subject
Well, you're not wrong about that.
[Even if he doesn't think Rokurou understands why. That's fine. He doesn't vie for it. It's easier, always, if they don't.]
[He glances down at the box, finishing tucking the edges into each other to keep it shut, and leaves it to another day. (That's a lie. He'll be busting that thing open again by tonight.)]
How I'd choose to spend my birthday, huh............... [He hums a long, quiet sigh out as he thinks on it, strolling over to sit on the edge of the bed. No matter how he thinks about it, he can't consider it any different from usual: to do whatever he can manage to do, from the position he's in.] Of course, I'm going to eat all the sweets I like, but that isn't much different from usual, is it?
[Because every day that he survives is a miracle. It's as much of an answer that someone in his position can give. And as always, there are too many desires he can't voice.]
no subject
It isn’t. [ satisfied with the clothes neatly put away, Rokurou sits beside Matoba on the bed, leaning back on his hands and rolling his neck, ] But if that’s what you want to do, you should do it.
[ Rokurou shrugs, turning his head to lazily look at the man beside him. While consuming sweets at the rate he’s going will end up with Matoba fat and diabetic, who is he to judge? A daemon like him can’t judge anyone. ]
Alright. Let’s say you spend four hours eating sweets. What do you want to do with the remaining twenty? It’s a whole day.
no subject
Hmmmh............. Well, one of those hours is with the bow, [Matoba drawls easily, thinking of his typical day on autopilot.] And no matter what day it is, I have to at least glance over what job requests we have received, to root out the ones we can do and the ones we will not.
[Work that only the head can do, responsibilities he can't just put aside.... The more he thinks on those hours, the more he thinks of another responsibility that he can't just set aside, but he's sure a rogue like Rokurou, who has made his feelings about responsibilities to his family clear, doesn't want to hear that.]
[The truth is, he does not know what else he might do with himself besides the things he knows how to do. He doesn't think about what else he might do, because there has never been any reason to do so.]
...Perhaps I would take a walk about town, [He tries after a few moments of quiet, struggling to find an answer,] Go to a ramen stall, see what is in the claw machines at the arcade, and greet the kitty-cats.
[Simple pleasures, things he can do without putting too much of himself into them. But, still, these answers feel somewhat hollow. He's coming to realize that he doesn't much feel that a day spent like this would be very fulfilling, even shirking his usual workload.]
[Perhaps there's simply nothing special or useful about time wasted, alone.]
no subject
Ugh. Unfortunately, he doesn’t dislike that kind of commitment and sense of responsibility. Not that he’ll admit it. Instead, the daemon hums. ]
Okay. We’ll train in the morning and then go for a walk around the resort to see what’s going on. Red Cardinal makes a pretty good ramen so that can be lunch. Then we can go to the arcade and… [ he stalls here before sighing in defeat, ] … find some cats afterward.
[ All in all, that sounds like a good day, cats aside. Of course this guy would be a cat fanatic… are all exorcists obsessed with felines? ]
But if any of them piss on me, we’re leaving.
no subject
[That is what occupies the majority of his time in the resort. What time isn't spent "socializing"- as, after all, making and keeping connections is also a part of his duties as the head- or in the small, personal time he takes to eat and enjoy the dalliances that he allows himself. But they are few.]
[It isn't that Matoba lacks things he enjoys, but that he has never had the freedom or opportunity to think about goals for himself that don't tie back to his position.]
[He blinks up owlishly, then, as Rokurou goes on and plans a day for... them. Normally, he might make a prodding comment about the man inviting himself along. But moreso, he is surprised that he does so willingly.]
"We" can train? [He settles on instead, amusement tinging instead of sarcasm.] Do you even know how to draw a bowstring?
no subject
[ He seems eager, even. Even after a year of having all of the pleasures man can enjoy shoved in his face, Rokurou still enjoys training and working out the most. Especially when it’s with someone strong; he knows first hand that Matoba is skilled. ]
What about the evening, though? Cats would be sometime in the afternoon. How do you want to spend your birthday night?
no subject
[Now that sounds like fun.]
[Thinking about entertainments comes far less easy to him. Ah, but perhaps for two exorcists, killing would naturally come more easily. Matoba tilts his head back slightly in thought. Monsters still roam the halls of the resort, the plague that moon has set upon the resort still a threat. Now there's an idea.]
Night is when the ayakashi roam. Isn't that plenty to keep us busy?
no subject
[ Correction: an exorcist and a daemon. Don’t lump him in with you smelly exorcists. Rokurou smiles, once again amused by this man. The clear opportunity to have a completely normal birthday isn’t taken when it’s right there; growing up in environments like theirs really does breed a certain type. ]
Training in the morning, food in the afternoon, and bloodshed at night? We do have similar tastes after all.
[ He reaches a greedy claw over to curl a lock of Matoba’s silky hair around his finger. An idle gesture where he rubs it between his thumb and index finger, enjoying the slide against his skin. ]
I’m looking forward to it.
no subject
[Anyway, what even is normal?? Seiji is aware of such things; it isn't as if he hadn't watched classmates in school have normal birthdays with normal birthday parties, with friends and games and great fun. That was the sort of life that the powerless should lead. And he was different. He had power, and responsibility to that power. A responsibility to solitude.]
[It makes these interactions strange. Here he is, sleeping in this man's bed and eating the meals made for him, treating him at times as more of a servant or a keeper than anything. Stained by malice and by his own admission no longer a candidate to inherit his bloodline, Rokurou could be nothing else to him. But then, these strange softnesses come between them. They can enjoy them, in their own way.]
[They've made a good plan between them, simple as it is, so the few days that pass until Matoba's actual birthday arrives require no further planning. And yet, in the late hours where All Hallow's Eve passes into his birthday and the spirits' mischief hits its peak, something suspicious arrives from the knock of a bellhop: An unmarked, gold box, containing a set of adorable kitty-cat chocolates. Of course, Matoba ought to have expected some manner of trick on his birthday, but what comes doesn't seem... too bad, he thinks... In fact, it seems sort of fun.]
[He sits on the bed, Rokurou snoozing beside him, and reads the instructions over and over. Glancing sidelong at the man, and back to the box....... Well. It is his birthday. Shouldn't he be allowed to have a little fun?]
[Matoba was usually quite the solitary sleeper, preferring to be settled on one side of the bed on his lonesome, and not at all cuddled up to the daemon. But by the time Rokurou awakens, there's a warmth settled unusually half-over his lower half, with the occasional flick of soft fur against a hipbone, against his legs. And, he'll come to realize with more and more lucidity, a pleasurable warm wetness over his cock, flicking back and forth, and sinking over him. Just a little more than the usual blood-thickening throb of morning wood....]
no subject
The daemon sighs and rolls his head. Then, slowly, his eyelashes flutter and his lids begin to crack. At first he doesn’t see much with his vision blurred by sleep. He happily and blindly grasps down toward his hips for a lazy morning masturbation session. What he grabs instead is, ]
Haa—? [ a sharp exhale of surprise as his fingers curl against hair, ] Matoba?!
[ His eyes shoot open at the lurid scene of Matoba greedily sucking his cock. It would be sexy as hell to wake up to this if it weren’t for, ]
Why the hell are you a cat again!?
no subject
[The slight spitting of a hiss at the back of Matoba's throat is comically muffled over the wet blockage of a cock at the precipice of his throat. Paired with a glare and earned by the sudden grab of his hair, the (cat?) exorcist quickly seems to get over it and continues along his merry task, relaxing his jaw again to burgeon lower. The tip tickles at the back of his tongue, and he draws back again, lips sealing around the head to nurse eagerly as nails knead in the meat of the daemon's inner thighs.]
[Seeming quite proud of himself, he doesn't see fit to give an answer to Ro's question. How silly. He simply half-lids his eye in that judgmental way he does when Rokurou has said something he finds insipid, and nurses eagerly at the tip of his cock.]
[Does it matter?]
no subject
Before Rokurou can spit out another word, Matoba clamps around his glans and sucks, drawing a strong shiver from the daemon. His breath hitches and toes scrunch in pleasure; precum beads, with heavy drops smearing onto the exorcist’s tongue. The pinch of pain from the nails digging into his thigh goes straight to his balls—Rokurou’s face and throat flush faintly as his breathing quickens.
Turned on and annoyed, the demon yanks Matoba’s hair like a leash. Brat. He has half a mind to roll away and deny the man his dick, but that would be a double-edged sword given the state he’s been brought to while asleep. So, Rokurou’s brow furrows, and he thrusts his hips to shamelessly fuck Matoba’s mouth. ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)