With the way cleaning up after you wreaks havoc on my wallet? You'd be surprised.
[Well, he doesn't reach into his own pocket too often to help with his investigations, but the Empire is notoriously stingy, only providing the bare minimum as far as provisions are concerned and not caring half as much as the citizens would like to believe about what goes on in a simple little city like theirs, so long as they get what they need for their airships and nobody goes poking into their business. Maybe that's what made their connection so magnetic; they may be his bosses, for all intents and purposes, but Jyuto's never felt any deep, personal obligation to those snobbish higher-ups from Erste.
With all the sensitive materials neatly tucked away for another time, preferably without any unexpected guests, Jyuto moves back to the desk, setting a palm down on the smooth wood where he sits on the edge, leg crossed over the other. Since he's been out, a still-gloved hand reaches to pluck the cigarette out of Akira's grasp, nonchalantly snubbing it out in the ashtray. He could have taken a drag for himself and tasted the remnants of Akira's lips against the thin paper if he felt like spoiling him, but he did break into his office.]
Usually when you miss me it means I'm about to be booked for the rest of the week. [It's not necessarily a complaint. With the way Akira looks so pleased with himself, his smile as pointed as the ears atop his head, Jyuto can't find it in himself to be quite as annoyed. Akira always looks ready to devour him on the spot -- Jyuto isn't sure that he'd object if he did.]
To be honest, I'd started to wonder if you'd finally decided to go into retirement. Things were getting quiet without someone to cause trouble.
[It's all he really sees in Auguste, when Akira isn't the one behind them; petty crimes, people stepping out of line against the generals, brawls breaking out between rival skyfarers. Nothing as fascinating as this messy-haired man before him whose idea of a flashy exit is smashing the nearest window, nobody as bold enough to steal a kiss with a side of sharp teeth and slender fingers running down the edges of his ears.]
no subject
[Well, he doesn't reach into his own pocket too often to help with his investigations, but the Empire is notoriously stingy, only providing the bare minimum as far as provisions are concerned and not caring half as much as the citizens would like to believe about what goes on in a simple little city like theirs, so long as they get what they need for their airships and nobody goes poking into their business. Maybe that's what made their connection so magnetic; they may be his bosses, for all intents and purposes, but Jyuto's never felt any deep, personal obligation to those snobbish higher-ups from Erste.
With all the sensitive materials neatly tucked away for another time, preferably without any unexpected guests, Jyuto moves back to the desk, setting a palm down on the smooth wood where he sits on the edge, leg crossed over the other. Since he's been out, a still-gloved hand reaches to pluck the cigarette out of Akira's grasp, nonchalantly snubbing it out in the ashtray. He could have taken a drag for himself and tasted the remnants of Akira's lips against the thin paper if he felt like spoiling him, but he did break into his office.]
Usually when you miss me it means I'm about to be booked for the rest of the week. [It's not necessarily a complaint. With the way Akira looks so pleased with himself, his smile as pointed as the ears atop his head, Jyuto can't find it in himself to be quite as annoyed. Akira always looks ready to devour him on the spot -- Jyuto isn't sure that he'd object if he did.]
To be honest, I'd started to wonder if you'd finally decided to go into retirement. Things were getting quiet without someone to cause trouble.
[It's all he really sees in Auguste, when Akira isn't the one behind them; petty crimes, people stepping out of line against the generals, brawls breaking out between rival skyfarers. Nothing as fascinating as this messy-haired man before him whose idea of a flashy exit is smashing the nearest window, nobody as bold enough to steal a kiss with a side of sharp teeth and slender fingers running down the edges of his ears.]