[Admirer isn't too far off, when you get down to it. What Akira does is fascinating just as much as it is illegal, taking things that could easily be pawned off for riches only for the items to mysteriously turn up in one piece further down the line and repeating the entire process over again. It's crossed Jyuto's mind that it's the experience itself that he craves more than any kind of glory or something as simple as a get rich quick scheme, and that sort of thinking probably could have clued him in to there being more than the strictly required interest in following any and all leads he could find for himself, with or without a client. When was the last time he actually cared about the people he chased after, saw them as more than names and numbers on a slip of paper?
He has to shake his head with a chuckle, the lilt in Akira's voice sounding absolutely silly coming from him. It's almost romantic -- the complete opposite of the aggressive, assertive composure he'd had before.]
My company, or my lips?
[He hasn't forgotten it, either. How could he, really? Even now, without so much as a word or a simple, stolen heirloom, Jyuto finds himself pondering on the way that Akira had so easily skulked into his personal space, radiating the kind of confidence that only comes with the knowledge that nothing's going to get in the way of what you want, not really, as his hands had threaded themselves in his hair. Those deft fingers rubbing against the sensitive curve of his ears had left him wide-eyed and surprised, glued to the spot like some kind of amateur -- he'd come to expect just about anything, but he's sure the grin on Akira's face as he'd made his exit was full of the knowledge that he'd finally, truly, one-upped Jyuto in a way he couldn't possibly hope to best.
Well, not at the time. Looking at Akira now, lounging in his chair like it's the most natural thing in the world, makes everything else seem remarkably irrelevant -- no question of why or how or what, just the simple fact that it was, and, really, having a kiss stolen by a famous thief doesn't feel half as unexpected in hindsight as it had in the moment. They've always been inching towards something like that. Something.
For the most part, the cigarette gets ignored, now.]
It was a surprising sentiment, I'll give you that. None of my targets have ever tried putting their tongue down my throat to get away with committing a crime.
[None of the others would have succeeded, either.]
no subject
He has to shake his head with a chuckle, the lilt in Akira's voice sounding absolutely silly coming from him. It's almost romantic -- the complete opposite of the aggressive, assertive composure he'd had before.]
My company, or my lips?
[He hasn't forgotten it, either. How could he, really? Even now, without so much as a word or a simple, stolen heirloom, Jyuto finds himself pondering on the way that Akira had so easily skulked into his personal space, radiating the kind of confidence that only comes with the knowledge that nothing's going to get in the way of what you want, not really, as his hands had threaded themselves in his hair. Those deft fingers rubbing against the sensitive curve of his ears had left him wide-eyed and surprised, glued to the spot like some kind of amateur -- he'd come to expect just about anything, but he's sure the grin on Akira's face as he'd made his exit was full of the knowledge that he'd finally, truly, one-upped Jyuto in a way he couldn't possibly hope to best.
Well, not at the time. Looking at Akira now, lounging in his chair like it's the most natural thing in the world, makes everything else seem remarkably irrelevant -- no question of why or how or what, just the simple fact that it was, and, really, having a kiss stolen by a famous thief doesn't feel half as unexpected in hindsight as it had in the moment. They've always been inching towards something like that.
Something.
For the most part, the cigarette gets ignored, now.]
It was a surprising sentiment, I'll give you that. None of my targets have ever tried putting their tongue down my throat to get away with committing a crime.
[None of the others would have succeeded, either.]