N'Gai's CEO's Topics (233)

bitch if its really memory loss(⊙…⊙ )

Thank you so much translator-san(≧∀≦)

SHORT HAIR GANG RISE

The light chatter of frivolous summer winds, a grandfather-clock ticking meekly in a corner of the shop, and the occasional horn of a passing car; at the ungodly hour of twelve in the night, these sounds were all that kept Kouichi company.

Hidden past tall book shelves and colorful CD displays, alone yet again, Kouichi absently wipes the disk covers, and once again wonders why no one was ever willing to take the midnight shift before he came along.

Personally, he loves this time of the day. It's peaceful, in the way nothing else quite is; the empty silence trickling into his veins like the clear waterfalls back in the village.

Maybe it was the lazy hedonist in him speaking, or perhaps the brat within had never really matured, but the soothing calm, the odd stability of it all anchored him to his reality more than he should admit.

It never got boring either.

The night came with its own set of unconventional characters, from delinquents draped in black and teenagers on late-night dates, to the shivering seventy-something grandpa across the street levelling him with the quintessential stern glare. Again.

He only smiles in response, genuine and hesitant.

(Well, people-watching never got old.)

There was also another man, a little different from the rest, though Kouichi couldn't exactly pin point what was so unique about him, if asked.

Could it be the ten thousand yen bill he'd slap on the counter for a soda bottle worth less than a hundreth of it everyday? Or, maybe - it was the mane atop his head, locks shining gold like the midday sun, sticking straight across his forehead.

(Kouichi almost wonders if it would feel as soft against his fingers, as it looked. Just what kind of premium shampoo does this guy use, anyway?)

Or maybe, it was something about his eyes, bright and cautious, wood and amber, catching his own for a brief moment, escaping in a careful sort of concern, brushing past him like the exchange never happened.

The man was unpleasant, at best, leaving his stomach with a heavy, unsure feeling everytime he came by.

The bells above the exit would chime, and Kouichi would once again be left with his happy lonesome, eyes stuck on the empty door way and mind somewhere far away.

(Among Daffodil yellows and elusive gazes)

He doesn't think much of it, afterwards, doesn't let the curious sensation linger. The stranger is just that - a stranger. Like any other customer. Mr. Soda, as he internally calls him.

And that's just how it is.

Except, when a fateful night of summer storms, cool rain, an adorably illegal black cat, and a familiar man drenched in nothing Kouichi ever expected, change everything.

- fin -

Should i continue?

Question! Uh where's the mini special between Ran Xian and you know who

HELL YEAH FINALLY SOME CONFLICT - NEW SCOPE FOR GROWTH IN THEIR RELATIOSNHIP(๑•ㅂ•)و✧

Thank you so much for the mass update omg excited!! (≧∀≦)

SOMEONE PLEASE WRITE THE AUS JSDJENHDJJDJDJ

The boy is strange, Master decides one mundane afternoon.

This astute observation, as surprising as it seems, isn't on account of the boy's suicide attempt he walked in on, in their first meeting. No, master is better than dismissively passing such harsh judgement.

After all, he knows, perhaps more than anyone, just how cruel living could be.

Wanting to escape it all, in an impulsive fit of spite or desperation; Master couldn't possibly hold that against anyone. He's been there himself, more times than he can even recall now.

But that urge has recently begun to dwindle, and Master thinks he may just know the source of this curious change.

The actual reason Master is certain this boy is a unique brand of weird, is something much different.

Maybe it's the brunette's non-existent sense of self preservation, when he cheekily sneaks in a kiss or two in the mornings, grinning at his flushed cheeks right after as if he's won a sort of lottery.

Or, maybe, it's the way he takes comfort in the unusual, seeking out his lap during movie nights, relaxed and content, enclosed within the space of his own legs.

Master had absently dug cautious fingers into his own thighs, one such night, when the boy got up for a bathroom break, failing to understand how his lover could possibly find solace against his hardened flesh.

It puzzled him, much like the rest of this boy. But it did no less to make Master's heart beat just that bit faster, face heating up, cheeks warming and pulse racing, every time he looked at this man.

Ha, he mused softly, in a tender sort of surrender, he had already been done in.

And there's no other way he'd have it.

-FIN-

I am a clown did i just write a drabble for these 2 what the fuck- (⊙…⊙ )

EYE- WHAT DA HALE

This was a morbidly adorable read I'm not sure what to thinkwish there were more chapters