( it feels like waiting for a pin to drop: like everything else in the room is suddenly so quiet, because bakugou is quiet, too, because he's not yelling at him, or demanding things of him, or speaking in that loud voice. it's softer, now, sincere, and he allows himself one small moment of weakness: his eyes squeeze shut, shoulders lifting, but a gulp of air forces them back down again; he's the older one, here, he should be more composed. it shouldn't be this hard to just admit to himself he's doing something stupid. bakugou is accepting it gracefully.
is that how it's supposed to go? if anyone's ever flirted with him, he's had no idea of it, so he equally has no idea of how he should be proceeding, here. so rather than put any undue burden on bakugou, he gives a quick dip of his head in gratitude, acknowledgement, before turning away again; of course, it's as he's gathering up the other gifts to take them out of the room that he hears the rest.
immediately, the bag slumps onto the floor again, because his hands forget how to close. )
Wh-wha.... ( he starts, stops, tries to force his arms down again and finally succeeds in gathering the bags back up again--but it feels a little like a strong breeze might knock him over.
right. that's normal too though, isn't it? having lunch with one of the other students. bakugou probably wants to ask him about being an upperclassman, or about work studies, or any number of other things. at least, putting it that way in his head makes sense: he glances at him, slightly, before looking to the door. )
I'll c-come by tomorrow, around n-noon. We can go wherever y-you want. I'll see...see you then.
( with a soft swallow: and then, faintly, a pale-looking smile, a little nervous, before he gathers himself up enough so that he can reach for bakugou's door; if he stays any longer, he might just start rambling or worse, fall into despair in the corner, so he's quiet and succinct about seeing himself out. )
[his upperclassman's older than him, more advanced in schooling, closer to graduating and adulthood. yet he's the one who feels like he's dealing with a middle school brat trying to weather a crush. shoulders all bunched up towards his pointed ears as if to shut out noise and stave off the executioner's verdict a few more seconds. throat tightening in a swallow he hears, probably to amajiki's utter mortification. won't even look at him through his eyes slammed tight shut. for someone making a confession, he's sure doing a shit job of it! ... then again, if he wasn't, he'd think the ramrod hero in front of him was a fake.
a year ago, he wouldn't spare the time of day to someone so self eroding. hmph, a year can do a lot. whether this is an actual confession instead of a blurted grab at whatever came to mind, or nothing more than a stumbling attempt at flirting with him, it doesn't really matter now, does it. he made his decision and gave amajiki an answer. doesn't want him exploding in a shower of nerves and fretting grey matter. and maybe he kind of might be interested in more too.
ugh, there goes the fucking bag again.] What'd those sharp ears of your forget how to hear?
[mattaku, this guy... luckily amajiki manages to pick up the bag. he was two seconds away from stomping over there himself and double knotting it around his stupid chicken neck.
one hand drops into his pants pocket, the other tugging at his new sweater's hem to make it sit better around his waist. really is a garish thing he wouldn't be caught dead in. meaning he's probably gonna wear it the next time amajiki comes to his room. good thing he can't read his upperclassman's mind right now. he'd have nuked his flighty head for daring to make assumptions about him!]
Uh-huh. I'll take you someplace you'll like. [where the fuck would such a place be?! blindfolded anonymous lunches for two in separate rooms as you talk through the table-to-table intercom?! shit, he's gonna have to research restaurants and find something amajiki can go to without passing out in an anxiety stupor at the table.
... maybe he should cook in his room instead. no crowds, no menus, nothing demanding. amajiki's already been in his room, thought he'll at least keep his shirt on this time.] Scram.
[no effort made to see him out, approaching right now would only make the guy flustered and think he was coming in for an attack. as the door shuts, he's left with his thoughts, frowning softly at the window. huh... so his upperclassman likes him.
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Date: 7/29/25 19:48 (UTC)is that how it's supposed to go? if anyone's ever flirted with him, he's had no idea of it, so he equally has no idea of how he should be proceeding, here. so rather than put any undue burden on bakugou, he gives a quick dip of his head in gratitude, acknowledgement, before turning away again; of course, it's as he's gathering up the other gifts to take them out of the room that he hears the rest.
immediately, the bag slumps onto the floor again, because his hands forget how to close. )
Wh-wha.... ( he starts, stops, tries to force his arms down again and finally succeeds in gathering the bags back up again--but it feels a little like a strong breeze might knock him over.
right. that's normal too though, isn't it? having lunch with one of the other students. bakugou probably wants to ask him about being an upperclassman, or about work studies, or any number of other things. at least, putting it that way in his head makes sense: he glances at him, slightly, before looking to the door. )
I'll c-come by tomorrow, around n-noon. We can go wherever y-you want. I'll see...see you then.
( with a soft swallow: and then, faintly, a pale-looking smile, a little nervous, before he gathers himself up enough so that he can reach for bakugou's door; if he stays any longer, he might just start rambling or worse, fall into despair in the corner, so he's quiet and succinct about seeing himself out. )
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Date: 8/14/25 15:20 (UTC)a year ago, he wouldn't spare the time of day to someone so self eroding. hmph, a year can do a lot. whether this is an actual confession instead of a blurted grab at whatever came to mind, or nothing more than a stumbling attempt at flirting with him, it doesn't really matter now, does it. he made his decision and gave amajiki an answer. doesn't want him exploding in a shower of nerves and fretting grey matter. and maybe he kind of might be interested in more too.
ugh, there goes the fucking bag again.] What'd those sharp ears of your forget how to hear?
[mattaku, this guy... luckily amajiki manages to pick up the bag. he was two seconds away from stomping over there himself and double knotting it around his stupid chicken neck.
one hand drops into his pants pocket, the other tugging at his new sweater's hem to make it sit better around his waist. really is a garish thing he wouldn't be caught dead in. meaning he's probably gonna wear it the next time amajiki comes to his room. good thing he can't read his upperclassman's mind right now. he'd have nuked his flighty head for daring to make assumptions about him!]
Uh-huh. I'll take you someplace you'll like. [where the fuck would such a place be?! blindfolded anonymous lunches for two in separate rooms as you talk through the table-to-table intercom?! shit, he's gonna have to research restaurants and find something amajiki can go to without passing out in an anxiety stupor at the table.
... maybe he should cook in his room instead. no crowds, no menus, nothing demanding. amajiki's already been in his room, thought he'll at least keep his shirt on this time.] Scram.
[no effort made to see him out, approaching right now would only make the guy flustered and think he was coming in for an attack. as the door shuts, he's left with his thoughts, frowning softly at the window. huh... so his upperclassman likes him.
well damn.]