[ Renji nearly jumped out of his skin when the ribbons manifested around them, flooding the room with the reiatsu of the hundreds of people in the station, reified in twisting bands of white.
If he was being honest, he had forgotten that he'd walked in on Keigo right in the middle of performing reiraku. A lot of thoughts flew out of his head the moment Keigo started crying; that must have been one of them. So Renji's shock is renewed, clear in how he stared in wide-eyed astonishment at the ribbons, before Keigo seized his attention back as he plucked out the only red ribbon in a sea of white. A fraying end pointed straight at his chest while the other curled in the air.
Even more shocking, though, was what Keigo was saying. It struck him again that Keigo was strange in how abashedly straightforward he was, that he could be so candid about how much Renji meant to him even when it was obvious that it was embarrassing. He'd never met anyone like that before, who gave their affection so lavishly, with such generosity, and left himself so vulnerable. And he still didn't know what had earned him this esteem from Keigo, that just touching his reiatsu acted as a remedy for his anxieties.
There were a few pronounced seconds of silence as Renji groped for a response. In some ways, this was harder to talk about than Keigo having his memory wiped away and played with. Renji could give reassurance and be supportive in his own gruff and unreasonable sort of way. This was an invitation to be sensitive and sentimental, and he was never very good at that. He had never been shown how and was too old to learn. ]
...What the hell.
[ His face steadily took on a reddish tinge again, even deeper than when he was recalling every piece of erotic mental footage of Keigo that his mind had compiled so carefully for him. His gaze turned to the side, like it was blinding to look at Keigo and his innocent admiration. ]
You know my number. Ain't that easier?
[ He knew it wasn't, but he wanted to make it easier. Knowing Keigo had been agonizing over this all this time, distressed and alone while he wondered if his mind was unraveling, felt like a failure on his part. He watched Keigo so closely sometimes, and he still didn't pick up on it. He should have noticed sooner. He should have put it together. If he did, maybe he wouldn't have suffered this long on his own. ]
no subject
If he was being honest, he had forgotten that he'd walked in on Keigo right in the middle of performing reiraku. A lot of thoughts flew out of his head the moment Keigo started crying; that must have been one of them. So Renji's shock is renewed, clear in how he stared in wide-eyed astonishment at the ribbons, before Keigo seized his attention back as he plucked out the only red ribbon in a sea of white. A fraying end pointed straight at his chest while the other curled in the air.
Even more shocking, though, was what Keigo was saying. It struck him again that Keigo was strange in how abashedly straightforward he was, that he could be so candid about how much Renji meant to him even when it was obvious that it was embarrassing. He'd never met anyone like that before, who gave their affection so lavishly, with such generosity, and left himself so vulnerable. And he still didn't know what had earned him this esteem from Keigo, that just touching his reiatsu acted as a remedy for his anxieties.
There were a few pronounced seconds of silence as Renji groped for a response. In some ways, this was harder to talk about than Keigo having his memory wiped away and played with. Renji could give reassurance and be supportive in his own gruff and unreasonable sort of way. This was an invitation to be sensitive and sentimental, and he was never very good at that. He had never been shown how and was too old to learn. ]
...What the hell.
[ His face steadily took on a reddish tinge again, even deeper than when he was recalling every piece of erotic mental footage of Keigo that his mind had compiled so carefully for him. His gaze turned to the side, like it was blinding to look at Keigo and his innocent admiration. ]
You know my number. Ain't that easier?
[ He knew it wasn't, but he wanted to make it easier. Knowing Keigo had been agonizing over this all this time, distressed and alone while he wondered if his mind was unraveling, felt like a failure on his part. He watched Keigo so closely sometimes, and he still didn't pick up on it. He should have noticed sooner. He should have put it together. If he did, maybe he wouldn't have suffered this long on his own. ]