high_seas | sudden onset shyness

Entry tags:

sudden onset shyness

Who: Akechi Mitsuhide [

wavesoakedlegs] and Chōsokabe Motochika [

behisstrength]
Where: Aboard the Koumyou.
When: April 1st.
What: The horror of Opposite Day strikes again.
Warnings: See above!
Style: Action.
Status: Closed, but we'll open it upon request.

[The illusion that this morning is like any other morning lasts only as long as sleep holds Motochika in its throes. Stirring from his dreams before Mitsuhide is the first sign that normalcy has been washed aside, though the thought does not occur to him -- he's too busy noticing their boldly intimate position. Blushing, he snatches back his arm draped over Mitsuhide and, overcome by shyness, buries his face against Mitsuhide's shoulder. He wills his heartbeat to calm down but Mitsuhide's loveliness tempts his gaze out of modest aversion, and his blush deepens.

Motochika curls the covers around himself and bites his lip.]

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[Motochika smiles at the sound of Mitsuhide's laughter, vast affection pooling in his chest and the beat of his pulse reverberating through his skin. He tentatively presses a kiss to Mitsuhide's shoulder and turns his head to look at Mitsuhide's exquisite face before, abashed, he lowers his gaze.]

Even the fan of your eyelashes is newly pale.

[The undercurrent of desire echoing in his quiet tone renews his blush. Mitsuhide's impact on him is so potent: just admiring Mitsuhide makes him feel flustered.]

[Mitsuhide shifts his head to look over at Motochika... and it's at this point that he realises that the concern he'd felt briefly only moments ago was rooted in the way Motochika was sounding. A reserved tone to match the bashful expression now written across the other man's face.]

[And that wasn't right. That wasn't Motochika. It wasn't Motochika ever.]

I guess the powers of Davy Jones once again affect us...

[There is obvious confusion in Mitsuhide's voice now. He's rapidly waking up in response to the growing feeling of discontent in his chest.]

My Lord, are you feeling alright? You seem a little, ah... different, this morning?

Mitsuhide?

[Motochika lifts his gaze at those words, his expression matching the now uncertain, worried tone of his voice.]

I feel fine.

[Clearly he doesn't realise just how cursed he is.]

[Oh.]

[Oh dear.]

[It's becoming rapidly obvious that it's not just Mitsuhide's hair that has been affected by the curse. Mitsuhide looks utterly bewildered at Motochika's expression and response; these too were wrong, as wrong as the previous bashfulness had been.]

That's... ah.

[He bites his lip briefly before attempting a smile for his cursed lover, trying as he does so prevent the rapidly rising panic from taking hold of himself. Just how badly has Motochika been affected, then?]

Maybe I am imagining things? Perhaps a dream lingers...

[He knows he is wide awake, knows this is really happening, but Mitushide has no desire to worry his lover while he is in this odd state.]

[Unconvinced, Motochika shyly stretches his arm back over Mitsuhide, wishing to give his lover a measure of comfort.]

Do not worry over me.

[He says quietly, tilting up his head.]

[Mitsuhide bows his head a fraction, and then smiles in a sad but deeply genuine way.]

My Lord, I have been worrying over you since we were but young boys. Perhaps as early as our very first meeting.

[And that's the truth of it. Even before the memories of Lord Motochika's suffering at Yamazaki were lodged firmly in his heart, Mitsuhide had worried and done so pretty much constantly. His lover was bold and confident, a force of nature, but that left him open in many ways to injury and danger as far as Mitsuhide was concerned.]

[This... this worries him for very different reasons, but it's still the same feeling Mitsuhide has always known.]

I don't think I shall ever be able to stop.

[Motochika slides his eyes shut, a feeling of having imposed welling within.]

Forgive me.

[He all but whispers.]

I never meant to cause you distress. I only...

[His words momentarily stall as his embarrassment rises again. Only magical intervention could make Motochika show any reserve in expressing himself.]

...ever wanted to stay at your side.

[If Mitsuhide had felt at a loss before, he feels doubly so now.]

I have only ever wanted you there. [He replies, as soft as he can manage.] This isn't something to apologise for, my Lord.

[This is not the kind of dynamic he's used to, and while Mitsuhide would never say he fully understands Motochika, he is right now realising just how deep his knowledge of the other man runs.]

[The young samurai simply doesn't know the best path to take while his lover is like this. There is no knowledge to draw from, no experience.]

Be, ah... be at ease.

[Motochika splays his fingers over Mitsuhide's heart and dares to press a gentle kiss upon Mitsuhide's cheek. ]

I am happy to hear it.

[After one last lingering look at Mitsuhide in lieu of a caress, Motochika then retreats, rolling away and sitting up at the edge of the bed they share. Hopefully Mitsuhide will understand why he takes the covers with him -- Mitsuhide wears more layers than him to bed, and today he feels modest of his lack, though he knows that his lover has seen him in less.]

[It's bizarre beyond words to see Motochika act so coyly about his body; after seeing him dress as he does consistently for years and everything they've done together? It just doesn't work.]

[Mitsuhide can barely acknowledge it as real. In a sense, he could still almost believe he really is dreaming.]

[All he can do now is respect Motochika's wishes and avert his gaze. Mitsuhide sits up himself and steps out of the bed on his side, moving over to where a small mirror sits atop a desk. Taking a seat on the stool before it, Mitsuhide opens a drawer, pulls out a beautiful, ornate comb, and starts to tend to his hair. It's always been an actvivity that helps him to focus.]

I wonder if the rest of the crew have been been affected as... as I have. [He murmurs, as he examines his reflection.]

Shall we see for ourselves?

[Ordinarily he would say so in invitation, a declaration of his intent -- today, however, it is actually a question, asked with a measure of uncertainty as Motochika moves to dress. He bypasses his normal clothes and instead settles on an outfit that actually covers him up, remnants from when the worst of winter forced him to dress in respectable layers.]

[Those winter clothes were ones Mitsuhide had, on occasion, had to argue with the other man about him wearing. Now Motochika is making a beeline for them, like his usual wear was put of the question.]

[Every little 'out of character' moment gives Mitsuhide pause. He can't help but notice each one, and compare it to the Motochika he had fallen asleep next to the previous night.]

Shortly, yes. They may not be awake yet.

[Mitsuhide makes sure to keep his gaze fixed on his mirror as he combs through his fringe.]

Our young charges are not always as routine as a samurai, when it comes to rising from their beds, and those on watch would have already brought it to our attention if they were concerned.

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sudden onset shyness

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