IC Inbox | ryslig

[starmark]

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, THIS IS JOTARO. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 019.20.118.16 *** THIS IS JOTARO has joined 019.20.118.16 <THIS IS JOTARO> okay i'm typing now what <THIS IS JOTARO> delete what i just said <THIS IS JOTARO> delete what i just said <THIS IS JOTARO> delete everything i just said <THIS IS JOTARO> make this an automated messa <AUTOMATED REPLY, DO NOT RETURN> This is Jotaro. Whatever you want, hurry up and tell me already.

Comments

sounds good to me, yeah!

[starmark]

[And now, herein lies the question, as his laughter dies down beneath the soft press of a kiss and a warm buzzing sort of calm drifts down to cover over him like a phantom blanket: can he do it. Can he stick the landing. Can he fix his eyes on the bar and somehow manage to hurdle over the top of it instead of doing a majestic baseball slide right under like he usually does.]

...Yeah. Me too. I, uh.

[It's strange; he still hasn't said the words themselves, but he doesn't sound flustered or reluctant. If anything, he's just calm and a little bit lazy in his contentment, taking his time in favor of returning Rohan's kiss on his mouth with one pressed affectionately to his temple.]

I like the fish. And I love you, too.

if you want to wrap it up on ur next post it's up 2 u!

[manuscripture]

[ The reciprocated expression of feelings has a tag on it in the form of Rohan poking at Jotaro's chest with a finger. ]

Keep that fish alive. I'm not getting you a new one if it goes belly-up. [ Serious but not demanding. This naga went through Hell to get that fish, goddammit. He unwinds himself from Jotaro and lets his eyes roll to the door. He COULD leave. It's still dark out for the morning. Jotaro probably isn't tired, but he is.

What does he do? He hauls the too-much of himself up onto the gargoyle's bed to the point where very little of it isn't awkwardly covered in piles and piles of scales. This is a moment where having his legs would have been useful. ]

I'm sleeping here.

you got it!

[starmark]

[...Oh. You know, ordinarily, he'd probably be affronted at the fact that he'd once had a bed and now it's basically completely covered in muscle and scales and snake coils — and he sort of is, except that it's also completely covered in boyfriend and that gives him pause.

I'm sleeping here, he says, casually. And, okay, it's not like he hasn't slept in close quarters with plenty of people before, it's not like that's weird. But it makes him happy, too, like an echo of the way they'd been laughing before, fading ripples along the surface of a pond.

Having Rohan in his life is so great.]

That's my bed, you know.

[He feigns a moment of exasperation, making sure to avert his eyes in a half-aloof pose before remarking idly: ]

So if you sleep in it, that makes you mine, too.

[But somehow, he doubts Rohan is going to have a problem with that, and the notion makes him smile.]