Akechi Mitsuhide (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wavesoakedlegs) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
vatheon2012-08-04 01:48 pm
wavesoakedlegs) wrote in vatheon2012-08-04 01:48 pm
Entry tags:
the calm between the storms
Who: Akechi Mitsuhide (wavesoakedlegs) and Chōsokabe Motochika (behisstrength)
When: Today, late afternoon.
Where: The island, on one of the beaches.
Style: Prose.
Status: Closed.
~~~
It was time to relax, and spend a day away from the troubles that haunted him.
Mitsuhide gazed out across the ocean from his spot on the beach (he had spread out a large blanket and settled on top). It had been raining a lot lately, so it was lucky that he and his Lord Motochika had chosen to go out on a day that turned out to be bright and sunny. Bad weather would not have stopped him from coming up to the island, but it would have changed their plans somewhat.
Quiet and almost motionless for a moment, the samurai eventually decided to remove his shoes and tabi. Afterwards he glanced at the sand, tempted to walk through with bare feet, but shook his head and decided against it. No, not yet...
Instead, Mitsuhide closed his eyes, grasped a lock of his long hair with one hand and began to hum softly. A specific tune came to him very quickly, though he could not place it; where had he heard that before?
wavesoakedlegs) and Chōsokabe Motochika (behisstrength)When: Today, late afternoon.
Where: The island, on one of the beaches.
Style: Prose.
Status: Closed.
It was time to relax, and spend a day away from the troubles that haunted him.
Mitsuhide gazed out across the ocean from his spot on the beach (he had spread out a large blanket and settled on top). It had been raining a lot lately, so it was lucky that he and his Lord Motochika had chosen to go out on a day that turned out to be bright and sunny. Bad weather would not have stopped him from coming up to the island, but it would have changed their plans somewhat.
Quiet and almost motionless for a moment, the samurai eventually decided to remove his shoes and tabi. Afterwards he glanced at the sand, tempted to walk through with bare feet, but shook his head and decided against it. No, not yet...
Instead, Mitsuhide closed his eyes, grasped a lock of his long hair with one hand and began to hum softly. A specific tune came to him very quickly, though he could not place it; where had he heard that before?
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It was an intimate song indeed, one he composed to echo an exquisite and very private performance.
For now Motochika said nothing -- instead he listened, self-satisfied, and waited to see if recognition trickled into Mitsuhide's mind.
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"You are heavy," he remarked then, opening his eyes as he did so.
Recognition had not stirred yet, it seemed. Mitsuhide's cheeks remained far too pale.
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"Have no fear. I shall be gone soon."
For now, however, he linked his fingers over Mitsuhide's stomach. "Hum that again, will you?"
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"You know it?" he asked, before doing as requested.
It was a pleasant tune; the samurai suspected it was shamisen music, but that was no surprise. He heard much more of that than any other kind.
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After Mitsuhide finished, Motochika let his hands fall lax, then rose to his feet. He had no intention of enlightening Mitsuhide yet -- if Mitsuhide remained oblivious to the nature of the melody then he would play it on his shamisen later and stir Mitsuhide's memory directly.
Timing and impact.
Motochika strolled over to the corner of blanket nearest the ocean, where he began to strip, losing layers until he was clad only in his fundoshi.
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He shrugged, and leaned back, placing both hands on the blanket to support himself.
"The water should be rather pleasant today," he said softly, though his eyes were not on the sea but Motochika. "It has been quite some time since conditions were this good."
Despite this comment, Mitsuhide made no attempt at getting up and stripping.
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"Come with me."
Motochika looked from the shoreline back to Mitsuhide and inclined his chin. He swept an arm out, stretching his fingers out towards Mitsuhide; his tone was beckoning when he spoke.
"Wade in, Mitsuhide!"
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"Not yet."
He did intend to swim in a short while, but was quite content to enjoy the sun and gentle breeze for the moment.
"Swim by yourself, for now."
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There was currently no reason to rush Mitsuhide's pace -- but who could say, later?
Motochika lowered his arm and turned. As he walked over the sand towards the sea he was joined by Takumi, and both man and pokémon sprinted into the ocean and splashed into its depths, surfacing a few moments later.
The joy of swimming was unchanging for Motochika.
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This was a true kind of peace, wasn't it?
After a short period of time Mitsuhide entered an almost dreamy state, relaxed as he was. Fiddling with his hair in an unconscious manner, he began to hum again as well; it was the same song as before, though he still couldn't put a name to it.
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Mitsuhide did not seem inclined to join him in the water anytime soon, and so Motochika decided to take matters into his own hands.
He strode up the beach, determined; he crossed the length of blanket and loomed over Mitsuhide, dripping seawater.
"At this rate the tide shall come to you."
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After a second or two, in which he collected himself, the young samurai laughed softly.
"I do not think that will happen."
As if to tease, Mitsuhide shifted enough to enable himself to lie down fully on the blanket. He then folded his hands over his chest.
"A bat will surely sweep me up before the waters can even make an attempt."
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"Counting on that, are you?"
Motochika bent down to grip Mitsuhide's arms and then pulled. He attempted to lurch Mitsuhide if not onto his feet, then certainly into a position which created enough space to facilitate more effective methods of lifting.
"Very well, Mitsuhide! I won't dissapoint you."
He was not above manhandling Mitsuhide into the ocean -- a fact Mitsuhide was clearly aware of.
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"I merely know you too well."
Sometimes, lack of action was the best way to provoke Motochika. Not that Mitsuhide's plans involved that and that alone; he had other ideas in his head.
It was simply not time for them right now.
"Have I ever told you how bossy you are?"
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He could not pull Mitsuhide up as they were, but it did give him the space he'd hoped for.
One of his hands let go, and swiftly curled under Mitsuhide's ribs, settling on Mitsuhide's back where he gripped onto the material that sat in the the space between Mitsuhide's shoulder blades.
Motochika shifted down to one knee, then, and let go of Mitsuhide's other arm. He tried to snake his now free arm under Mitsuhide's legs before his lover decided to escape his hold -- the risk was high, but if push came to shove, he knew that he could ultimately just wrestle Mitsuhide down the beach.
He had clear memories of doing so when a curse had left them teenagers again, after all.
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Instead, when both of Mitsuhide's arm were free, he moved to wrap them around his lover's neck and held on firmly. The other man would find it especially easy to pick Mitsuhide up, now.
But he'd have a much harder time when it came to letting him go.
"I still think bossy is more accurate." Mitsuhide smiled, humour in his expression. "Nonetheless, my Lord, I won't allow you to simply throw me into the waves."
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Challenge accepted.
"We will see about that."
His walk across the blanket and over the beach was languid. Motochika liked the weight of Mitsuhide in his hold and the feel of Mitsuhide's arms wrapped around his neck. Moreover, he wanted to give Mitsuhide extra time to consider strategy -- it would be more fun for them both that way.
Soon enough the waves lapped at his toes; his ankles; his shins.
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Mitsuhide had one plan, and that was simply to hold on as firmly as he could. He would shift, move and grip just a little harder to compensate for any of his lover's attempts to throw him in, but that was it.
When Motochika stepped into the water Mitsuhide glanced down briefly, and smiled, before looking back up.
"Just walking in until I grow wet would not count," he said, gently teasing.
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Motochika smirked.
Soon the water was up to his thighs. Any deeper and it would be simply walking in -- Motochika was happy to play along with Mitsuhide's tease, and so stopped there. Trying to simply throw Mitsuhide was not an option with Mitsuhide's tight hold around his neck. Yet at the depth they were in, the water was mere inches beneath Mitsuhide.
Motochika started off by letting his hold drop away completely. It was a test of Mitsuhide's reflexes and determination: his lover would have to be quick to avoid a soaked lower half.
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There was no real way of avoiding wetness entirely, however; as he fell Mitsuhide twisted to face Motochika fully and swung his legs around in order to grip them around his lover's waist. The bottom half of his legs hit the water briefly as he did this, and so, when Mitsuhide settled into his new position, Motochika may have felt drops of water sliding down his back.
"Not good enough," he said, laughing softly. "You were too predictable."
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He stroked his palms from the back of Mitsuhide's thighs upwards; they eventually settled on Mitsuhide's back, just beneath Mitsuhide's shoulder blades.
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His grip remained tight as he tilted his head to the side; Mitsuhide's expression was a somewhat teasing one.
"I am not convinced."
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The benefit of having both his arms free and Mitsuhide doing all the work to hold on was that he could do this: he moved his hands to Mitsuhide's ribs and began to tickle his lover.
Mitsuhide was not the only one who thought ahead.
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What he did in response was entirely instinctual; Mitsuhide gasped, laughed and then his arms shot back in an attempt to stop Motochika from tickling. This, inevitably, led to Mitsuhide losing his balance entirely and falling backwards.
When he hit the water there was a very large splash. Moments later, Mitsuhide resurfaced with his fringe obscuring most of his face.
He huffed.
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"A dramatic throw. I couldn't have done better myself," he teased.
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"A devious tactic."
He shook his head. Mitsuhide looked down then, and... oh. Right.
"I ought to have spared a thought for my clothing, before engaging in this battle," he sighed, turning and walking back towards to the beach again as he did so. "Every layer I wear is soaked."
Mitsuhide had gotten so caught up in his teasing that he'd forgotten he had not yet stripped to his underkimono. Every piece of clothing he wore was now saturated with seawater, which frustrated him immensely; hakama in particular got very heavy when wet.
When he reached the sand he immediately walked across it until he reached the grass; once there, Mitsuhide began to strip. Every single layer would have to be laid out to dry.