[ Adachi conveniently doesn't need to be facing Maruki when he goes to set the glasses down on the other 'room's table, what with no other place to put them for pouring, and yet with the tone of his voice one can practically hear the rolling of his eyes. ]
Yes, I know how to cook. I cook plenty, I'll even cook for you next time we're over at your place.
[ Ran his mouth a little too eagerly to try and get Maruki off his back, but he's here now so no takebacksies.
This guy sure as shit doesn't own a corkscrew either, so pardon while he fishes out a key to fix that problem. ]
[ Oh, Adachi Tohru. You fool. You absolute buffoon.
Maruki brightens at that, following him into the other room and plunking down on one of the floor cushions. The one facing away from the television, thanks. The room is barren, yes, but it's not uninviting... It just looks like a hotel room, honestly. A place that isn't meant to be truly lived in.
He looks up at Adachi, and he can't hang onto that sternness, not even as a joke. It's impossible to deny that he now only looks pleased and hopeful. ]
Would you really? I'm holding you to that. That sounds– honestly, I'll buy you a corkscrew next time too, you're messing up the cork...
[ He'll outfit this whole apartment if Adachi's not careful. Watch out. ]
Yeah, I will. [ Another shrug, he's still going at the cork. ] I mean, I'm not a chef or anything so don't get your hopes up, but I can make a good enough dinner when I have something to work with.
[ Pop! There it goes. He'll finally take a seat by Maruki to pour, looking pretty pleased with himself now that he has some kind of control over the situation again. In fact, he's feeling good enough about it to shoot Maruki a sly look as he's filling the other's glass. ]
There's a beat of silence as Maruki holds that sly look, fights hard to keep his own expression mild and pleasant–
And then, despite all his best efforts, a flustered heat rises in his cheeks as he smiles back. He really is susceptible to even the worst flirtations when they come from the right source. Mortifying. ]
That was such a stretch. I hate that it works on me...
[ Would you look at that? It's drinking wine o'clock! It's time to focus very hard on wine and looking around the room, even as he scoots closer to bump his shoulder up against Adachi's. ]
Do you like it this way?
[ Maybe the blankness has a calming effect on him. Maruki doesn't know. ]
[ Success.☆ Alright, he feels better enough not to make any kind of stink about bumping shoulders, not even a tiny one.
It helps that the wine is nice. He's not usually a wine kind of guy, but maybe it's a good thing his taste buds haven't rotted with the rest of him to the point he can't appreciate the taste of something objectively better than the cheapest beer he can find. Maybe, just maybe, Maruki deserves some effort whenever Adachi comes over for that homemade dinner.
Then, as always, Maruki gets curious. It was aggravating at first, but Adachi's starting to get used to just not caring whether or not Maruki knows this or that inconsequential thing about him.
This is pretty inconsequential, for example, so he hums in thought. ]
[ Maruki's brows draw down at that, pinching together in the middle as he glances over at Adachi mid-sip. ]
Does it?
[ It has the bare necessities and nothing more. There's a kindly lecture about surviving versus thriving on the tip of his tongue – just because this place has four walls and the basic amenities needed to sustain a modern life doesn't mean it's good for Adachi. Too much time in a place like this might drive a man mad.
Maruki leans forward to rest an elbow on the table, tipping his cheek into his hand so he can hold Adachi's gaze. ]
What about what you want, though? What do you like to do when you're home? Don't tell me you just stare at the blank walls. I'll have you committed.
[ Like..... where is all your STUFF, my guy...... ]
[ There's a few long, drawn out moments of silence as Adachi considers his options. He can dodge as long as he can, see if drink makes Maruki less stubborn and persuasive than he usually is. He can lie, about, fuck, going outside to get his kicks or something?? Unlikely to be convincing.
Or he could just tell the truth. Risk actually letting Maruki in a little. (More than he already has and won't admit.) It's...niche, strange, a red flag for down the line when if a few more very important truths are yanked out of him. Should he risk it? Should he bother...?
That discomfort and uncertainty slip onto his expression, lips tightening and brows furrowing. ]
If I'm not just watching TV or something, I...do have one hobby.
[ It isn't a difficult question. The protracted silence and the uncomfortable twist of Adachi's mouth tells the tale. It's one thing to be intensely lonely – and Maruki knows they both are, has been able to read it clearly in Adachi's moments of hollow exhaustion. But it's another thing to not even be able to occupy your own mind when you're so alone.
Ever cagey, but he does give a little. He's offering up a small but honest piece of himself, and Maruki has hands gentle enough to keep it safe. ]
Yeah?
[ It's their knees that knock together this time, and Maruki leaves his own resting atop Adachi's. ]
I wasn't kidding when I said I think everything about you is interesting. What's the hobby?
[ Oh, he'll hate himself later for how that softness gets him to cave. He can stave it off with more drink, he's sure, but for now...nowhere left to go but down off that ledge. ]
Guns. [ A pause. ] Model ones.
I like to customize them, and going through the whole cleaning process is pretty relaxing.
[ Maruki blinks a few times behind his glasses, then picks his head up to sit up straight again. A curious little smile quirks his lips; it wasn't what he was expecting to hear at all. Kind of a niche hobby, very nerdy in its own way...
Unfortunately, it's endearing. No red flags here! ]
I can't say I'm familiar. [ Shocking, the consummate pacifist doesn't know about the world of model weapons. ] Can I see?
[ Another furtive little glance around the bedroom then, as if his eyes had simply passed over a gun collection before. No dice. ]
Well, he could. He could say no, you absolutely may not see, now sit and stew with me instead, but...he doesn't want to. He thinks he doesn't want to? It's a familiar struggle, one he constantly had to battle with someone else too damn stubborn for their own good worming their way into his head and his heart, but that doesn't make it any less easy to handle. This could go wrong at any moment, Maruki could get judgmental, he could get bored--
And Adachi doesn't want him to.
He could eliminate the problem entirely, he could toss Maruki into the TV, his back's to it, it would be so easy, he's light and frail just like out on his ass, but maybe that's a little more childish than he's willing to be at the moment.
And Adachi doesn't want Maruki gone.
He sighs, as if the request is some grand undertaking put upon Adachi at an inconvenient time--someone practiced as Maruki should recognize it, that sillier attitude being a wall coming right back up after that display of vulnerability--but he sets his cup down nonetheless. ]
Sure. Sure, just one second.
[ They were hiding in his closet, turns out. If Maruki's feeling nosy enough to peek there's not much in there either, only one or two winter coats and a bright yellow rain coat sticking out like a sore thumb, hanging over the shallow plastic tub Adachi hauls out.
It's translucent, so a few dark, hinged boxes are visible as he carefully scoots it over. A few of them, especially the ones he'd been most proud of, had been confiscated as evidence during his investigation. Fortunately Adachi is the type of guy to keep a base version as backup, just in case anything went wrong when futzing with it. ]
It's nothing all that special, but...it's my favorite.
[ One of those boxes is set on the table, and inside...oh wow, that thing looks worryingly authentic. ]
[ While Adachi's up, Maruki drains his own cup of wine – it's good, but it's not so good that he feels guilty about throwing it back – and refills both of them. He sips again as he peers into the tub that Adachi pushes near the table, then into the box he sets on it and opens–
And then he chokes, just a bit, setting the cup down fast and spluttering something between a cough and a yelp. ]
Sorry! I'm sorry, I– oh, my. [ One hand presses to his chest, over a startled heartbeat, and Maruki laughs a little at himself. ] I wasn't expecting it to look so realistic!
[ But it does.
It really does.
Maruki stares at it, wide-eyed. ]
I've never actually seen a gun before...
[ Hardly surprising, given both everything about Japan and everything about Maruki, but it's still phrased like a confession anyway.
There's something about the way he said it, though – it's my favorite, oddly genuine in a way he isn't used to hearing from Adachi. In his mind's eye, he sees Adachi sat at this table, hunched over a dismantled model gun, painstakingly cleaning every part with intense, calm focus–
And there's a warm squeeze in his chest, fond and wanting all at once. Maruki likes knowing these things. He likes having a more complete picture of Adachi's life. He thinks about sitting at the other side of the table, working on his research, the two of them silently, contentedly concentrated on their own unbearably dorky tasks – and finds himself smiling over at Adachi, small and soft. ]
[ He can't help but laugh, what a reaction! It's not like he can blame Maruki for it, what with, again, everything about Japan and the aforementioned man, but it's...cute. Maruki being cute isn't a shocker, but being the reason for him doing something cute is different somehow.
Carefully, and with proper trigger discipline, he hoists the little thing up from its custom foam cushion inside the box. ]
It sure does, but look.
[ Click! goes the hammer as he pulls it back, angling the his hands so Maruki can see what all Adachi's pointing at as he talks. ]
It's smooth here and here, see? Nothing for it to make a spark and nowhere for it to go if it could, so it can't ignite any ammunition. Plus the spring inside's just for show--strong enough to bring the hammer back down when you pull the trigger, but not strong enough to help make that spark you need.
[ Despite the practiced way he's handling it, or maybe because of it, it seems oddly carefree the way he flicks open the cylinder to show it's empty and flick it right back closed. Then with no time to think on what's just been shown, he points it at the ceiling and pulls the trigger-- ]
Pew.
[ --Annnnd nothing happens, save for the hammer indeed coming back down. It's fake, nonfunctional, and empty. Of course it doesn't do anything. That doesn't keep a satisfied smile off Adachi's face, though. Even as he avoids eye contact at Maruki's next question, for once that hint of bashfulness not keeping him from running his mouth. ]
Well...it's one of those things you see on TV and get curious about, you know? And once I started it was kind of hard to stop...
[ A little part of Maruki falls in love right then and there.
He can't help it. It's the most of himself that Adachi has shared, and Maruki isn't even sure he realizes that he's doing it. It isn't just about the mechanisms of the gun. It's about Adachi being thorough, intelligent, experienced – caring, in his own strange way, going to great lengths to assure Maruki he's in no danger. A little endearingly boyish, too, that pew drawing a grin across Maruki's face.
And he's a little shy about it, but he keeps talking. Keeps letting Maruki in.
It's a gift. Maruki won't take it lightly. ]
I really had no idea they were so involved... The next time you customize one, I want to watch, if you'd let me. It sounds like a fascinating process.
[ Despite the fact they've not really shown this sort of tenderness before – no, because of it, really – he leans over and presses a kiss to Adachi's cheek. ]
I like seeing you so passionate about something. You're cute.
[ And if Adachi hates that– well, what's he going to do? Not shoot him with a fake gun? ]
[ The broken record that is Adachi's brain skips a beat at that quick, honest show of affection. For all the things they've said and done to each other at this point now is when he gets shy, a hand over his mouth as he clears his throat to try and hide the pink creeping onto his cheeks. ]
A guy's going on and on about guns and you think it's cute? Sure you're not the one who needs a counselor?
[ Can't seem to keep eye contact for a little while either, funny that. Instead his eyes are back down on the model in his hands, fiddling with the chamber as if to make sure it's rotating properly and doesn't need an early clean or something. ]
It's not all that exciting to watch, but if you really want to then I guess that's fine...
Maruki's never seen him like this. Adachi, blushing faintly, shying away from the praise, unable to meet his eye–
Target acquired.
Maruki grins, laughs in that self-effacing way of his and rests one arm along Adachi's back, reaching up to card gentle fingers through his hair. ]
You think I need a counselor? Well, maybe so...
[ Over and over, slow and methodical, impossibly affectionate. Maruki watches the way Adachi's uneven, choppy hair sifts through his fingers for a few moments longer, then turns his attention back to the gun as well. ]
Perhaps this is a stupid question, but you don't have any real ones, right?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Yes, I know how to cook. I cook plenty, I'll even cook for you next time we're over at your place.
[ Ran his mouth a little too eagerly to try and get Maruki off his back, but he's here now so no takebacksies.
This guy sure as shit doesn't own a corkscrew either, so pardon while he fishes out a key to fix that problem. ]
no subject
Maruki brightens at that, following him into the other room and plunking down on one of the floor cushions. The one facing away from the television, thanks. The room is barren, yes, but it's not uninviting... It just looks like a hotel room, honestly. A place that isn't meant to be truly lived in.
He looks up at Adachi, and he can't hang onto that sternness, not even as a joke. It's impossible to deny that he now only looks pleased and hopeful. ]
Would you really? I'm holding you to that. That sounds– honestly, I'll buy you a corkscrew next time too, you're messing up the cork...
[ He'll outfit this whole apartment if Adachi's not careful. Watch out. ]
no subject
Yeah, I will. [ Another shrug, he's still going at the cork. ] I mean, I'm not a chef or anything so don't get your hopes up, but I can make a good enough dinner when I have something to work with.
[ Pop! There it goes. He'll finally take a seat by Maruki to pour, looking pretty pleased with himself now that he has some kind of control over the situation again. In fact, he's feeling good enough about it to shoot Maruki a sly look as he's filling the other's glass. ]
You know how good I am with my hands.
no subject
There's a beat of silence as Maruki holds that sly look, fights hard to keep his own expression mild and pleasant–
And then, despite all his best efforts, a flustered heat rises in his cheeks as he smiles back. He really is susceptible to even the worst flirtations when they come from the right source. Mortifying. ]
That was such a stretch. I hate that it works on me...
[ Would you look at that? It's drinking wine o'clock! It's time to focus very hard on wine and looking around the room, even as he scoots closer to bump his shoulder up against Adachi's. ]
Do you like it this way?
[ Maybe the blankness has a calming effect on him. Maruki doesn't know. ]
no subject
It helps that the wine is nice. He's not usually a wine kind of guy, but maybe it's a good thing his taste buds haven't rotted with the rest of him to the point he can't appreciate the taste of something objectively better than the cheapest beer he can find. Maybe, just maybe, Maruki deserves some effort whenever Adachi comes over for that homemade dinner.
Then, as always, Maruki gets curious. It was aggravating at first, but Adachi's starting to get used to just not caring whether or not Maruki knows this or that inconsequential thing about him.
This is pretty inconsequential, for example, so he hums in thought. ]
It's got everything I need.
no subject
Does it?
[ It has the bare necessities and nothing more. There's a kindly lecture about surviving versus thriving on the tip of his tongue – just because this place has four walls and the basic amenities needed to sustain a modern life doesn't mean it's good for Adachi. Too much time in a place like this might drive a man mad.
Maruki leans forward to rest an elbow on the table, tipping his cheek into his hand so he can hold Adachi's gaze. ]
What about what you want, though? What do you like to do when you're home? Don't tell me you just stare at the blank walls. I'll have you committed.
[ Like..... where is all your STUFF, my guy...... ]
no subject
Or he could just tell the truth. Risk actually letting Maruki in a little. (More than he already has and won't admit.) It's...niche, strange, a red flag for down the line
whenif a few more very important truths are yanked out of him. Should he risk it? Should he bother...?That discomfort and uncertainty slip onto his expression, lips tightening and brows furrowing. ]
If I'm not just watching TV or something, I...do have one hobby.
no subject
Ever cagey, but he does give a little. He's offering up a small but honest piece of himself, and Maruki has hands gentle enough to keep it safe. ]
Yeah?
[ It's their knees that knock together this time, and Maruki leaves his own resting atop Adachi's. ]
I wasn't kidding when I said I think everything about you is interesting. What's the hobby?
no subject
Guns. [ A pause. ] Model ones.
I like to customize them, and going through the whole cleaning process is pretty relaxing.
so there's this ex-yakuza you should meet,,,,
Unfortunately, it's endearing. No red flags here! ]
I can't say I'm familiar. [ Shocking, the consummate pacifist doesn't know about the world of model weapons. ] Can I see?
[ Another furtive little glance around the bedroom then, as if his eyes had simply passed over a gun collection before. No dice. ]
Only if you want to share, I mean...
please he can't handle another gruff single dad--
Well, he could. He could say no, you absolutely may not see, now sit and stew with me instead, but...he doesn't want to. He thinks he doesn't want to? It's a familiar struggle, one he constantly had to battle with someone else too damn stubborn for their own good worming their way into his head and his heart, but that doesn't make it any less easy to handle. This could go wrong at any moment, Maruki could get judgmental, he could get bored--
And Adachi doesn't want him to.
He could eliminate the problem entirely, he could toss Maruki
into the TV, his back's to it, it would be so easy, he's light and frail just likeout on his ass, but maybe that's a little more childish than he's willing to be at the moment.And Adachi doesn't want Maruki gone.
He sighs, as if the request is some grand undertaking put upon Adachi at an inconvenient time--someone practiced as Maruki should recognize it, that sillier attitude being a wall coming right back up after that display of vulnerability--but he sets his cup down nonetheless. ]
Sure. Sure, just one second.
[ They were hiding in his closet, turns out. If Maruki's feeling nosy enough to peek there's not much in there either, only one or two winter coats and a bright yellow rain coat sticking out like a sore thumb, hanging over the shallow plastic tub Adachi hauls out.
It's translucent, so a few dark, hinged boxes are visible as he carefully scoots it over. A few of them, especially the ones he'd been most proud of, had been confiscated as evidence during his investigation. Fortunately Adachi is the type of guy to keep a base version as backup, just in case anything went wrong when futzing with it. ]
It's nothing all that special, but...it's my favorite.
[ One of those boxes is set on the table, and inside...oh wow, that thing looks worryingly authentic. ]
not the coat...... sobs
And then he chokes, just a bit, setting the cup down fast and spluttering something between a cough and a yelp. ]
Sorry! I'm sorry, I– oh, my. [ One hand presses to his chest, over a startled heartbeat, and Maruki laughs a little at himself. ] I wasn't expecting it to look so realistic!
[ But it does.
It really does.
Maruki stares at it, wide-eyed. ]
I've never actually seen a gun before...
[ Hardly surprising, given both everything about Japan and everything about Maruki, but it's still phrased like a confession anyway.
There's something about the way he said it, though – it's my favorite, oddly genuine in a way he isn't used to hearing from Adachi. In his mind's eye, he sees Adachi sat at this table, hunched over a dismantled model gun, painstakingly cleaning every part with intense, calm focus–
And there's a warm squeeze in his chest, fond and wanting all at once. Maruki likes knowing these things. He likes having a more complete picture of Adachi's life. He thinks about sitting at the other side of the table, working on his research, the two of them silently, contentedly concentrated on their own unbearably dorky tasks – and finds himself smiling over at Adachi, small and soft. ]
How did you get into this?
not yet serial killer fashionâ„¢
Carefully, and with proper trigger discipline, he hoists the little thing up from its custom foam cushion inside the box. ]
It sure does, but look.
[ Click! goes the hammer as he pulls it back, angling the his hands so Maruki can see what all Adachi's pointing at as he talks. ]
It's smooth here and here, see? Nothing for it to make a spark and nowhere for it to go if it could, so it can't ignite any ammunition. Plus the spring inside's just for show--strong enough to bring the hammer back down when you pull the trigger, but not strong enough to help make that spark you need.
[ Despite the practiced way he's handling it, or maybe because of it, it seems oddly carefree the way he flicks open the cylinder to show it's empty and flick it right back closed. Then with no time to think on what's just been shown, he points it at the ceiling and pulls the trigger-- ]
Pew.
[ --Annnnd nothing happens, save for the hammer indeed coming back down. It's fake, nonfunctional, and empty. Of course it doesn't do anything. That doesn't keep a satisfied smile off Adachi's face, though. Even as he avoids eye contact at Maruki's next question, for once that hint of bashfulness not keeping him from running his mouth. ]
Well...it's one of those things you see on TV and get curious about, you know? And once I started it was kind of hard to stop...
no subject
He can't help it. It's the most of himself that Adachi has shared, and Maruki isn't even sure he realizes that he's doing it. It isn't just about the mechanisms of the gun. It's about Adachi being thorough, intelligent, experienced – caring, in his own strange way, going to great lengths to assure Maruki he's in no danger. A little endearingly boyish, too, that pew drawing a grin across Maruki's face.
And he's a little shy about it, but he keeps talking. Keeps letting Maruki in.
It's a gift. Maruki won't take it lightly. ]
I really had no idea they were so involved... The next time you customize one, I want to watch, if you'd let me. It sounds like a fascinating process.
[ Despite the fact they've not really shown this sort of tenderness before – no, because of it, really – he leans over and presses a kiss to Adachi's cheek. ]
I like seeing you so passionate about something. You're cute.
[ And if Adachi hates that– well, what's he going to do? Not shoot him with a fake gun? ]
no subject
A guy's going on and on about guns and you think it's cute? Sure you're not the one who needs a counselor?
[ Can't seem to keep eye contact for a little while either, funny that. Instead his eyes are back down on the model in his hands, fiddling with the chamber as if to make sure it's rotating properly and doesn't need an early clean or something. ]
It's not all that exciting to watch, but if you really want to then I guess that's fine...
[ He guesses. ]
no subject
Maruki's never seen him like this. Adachi, blushing faintly, shying away from the praise, unable to meet his eye–
Target acquired.
Maruki grins, laughs in that self-effacing way of his and rests one arm along Adachi's back, reaching up to card gentle fingers through his hair. ]
You think I need a counselor? Well, maybe so...
[ Over and over, slow and methodical, impossibly affectionate. Maruki watches the way Adachi's uneven, choppy hair sifts through his fingers for a few moments longer, then turns his attention back to the gun as well. ]
Perhaps this is a stupid question, but you don't have any real ones, right?
[ Just making sure! For safety!! ]