Contrary to expectation, it was Murasaki who had gotten addicted to the extra warmth and feel of another body beside his own.
A little bit of awe, a little bit of surprise; to think that a man whom he'd met with nothing but intense dislike for was now unable to think of a future without him; even more surprising, to think that Nice himself was unable to think of a future without the other man around. A scene that might have played out after Murasaki got Nice ashore from the sinking boat.
The night Handa gets the call from Kawafuji, he decides to get drunk with Hiro instead of leaving immediately. Or: drunk boys dancing and kissing.
"Hey... Handa? What are you doing?"
His time with Nice was like an experiment with drugs; Murasaki craved for his voice, his face, his being, his spirit, his absolutely everything. He was utterly and completely intoxicated, and it took a few days for Murasaki to realize that what may have been a mere experiment had turned into complete dependence and raw need. Reunion-inspired fic that I need to write more of.
"You know what, fuck you. I've said what I came here to, and if you try to lay a finger on either Murasaki or me, I swear," Nice's hand pulled at Moral's shirt, aptly describing what would be in store for him, "I will shove responsibility so far up your ass you will taste those despicable tax bills for weeks, understand?"
"Why would you give two shits about my safety!" the violinist nearly spits out. Lucille takes a bullet in the foot that was originally headed for Kohaku. Confusion and feelings ensue.
"We're not," Samon says obstinately, "I can prove it." How exactly does one prove that one is not similar to someone else?
"I can prove it to you! I can prove that the universe was conspiring to turn us into a homosexual couple! Here!" yelled Mahiro, savagely biting his cookie.
Natsumura almost doesn't believe it, doesn't believe this creature fashioned of fire and glass can actually love him, who's done nothing to deserve such affection.