Kohta: ::Kohta wiggles his fingers around in the pocket of his slim black jacket, taking a breath of apprehension before pressing the doorbell with his elbow:: If he's not home.... ::he barely whispers to himself, looking at the door expectantly::
Kirito: *Sitting at his computer forcing down an incredibly disappointing expresso, Kirito had begun to faintly wonder where his brother had gone, the instant message window gone idle long ago. Rising from the chair, he answers the door, mug still in tow, eyes widened in surprise. He says nothing*
Kohta: ::He grins, pushing his way inside the apartment:: And here I was half afraid you went down to go get some more cigarettes or something. ::takes off his jacket and sling it over a chair, his white t-shirt forced down over the waistband of his jeans:: How're you?
Kirito: Surprised. *Is Kirito's answer, shutting and locking the door after his brother lets himself in, a crease between his eyebrows evident* Why're you here?
Kohta: Why, you don't want me? ::feigns a slightly hurt look, tossing a package retrieved from his jacket onto a table:: It's a little late...and it's not just for your birthday. It's also...an apology. ::shoves his hands in his pant pockets, looking sheepish::
Kirito: Well, that's overdue. *is unable to be completely acidic in the face of that pout, though he doesn't lay out all the mercy. He still holds the coffee, leaning against the panel of the door*
Kohta: ...you of all people should know how hard it is for me to apologize sometimes. ::Kohta stares at the ground, clawing at his thighs with fingers hidden deep inside jean pockets. He is trying very hard to keep himself from losing his temper and getting into an even bigger mess.:: I guess I just decided that now would be a good time to give them to you and say happy birthday. And also that I'n sorry for being a dick.
Kirito: *Rolling his eyes and exhaling his exasperation, Kirito rests the mug on the ground, approaching his sibling to slip a thin arm around the younger man in a masculine hold... one that grows into a firmer embrace, as the other arm curls around the blonde's waist, a hand pressed between shoulderblades*
Kohta: ::Kohta is surprised by the hug but sinks into it nonetheless, his tense form relaxing in Kirito's arms. He slips his arms lightly around his older brother, sighing deeply in relief:: So I'm forgiven then? ::murmurs, his forehead leaning against Kirito's shoulder in a featherlight touch::
Kirito: Just shut up and give me my present. *Unspoken 'I love you's and 'don't push it's carry on the air as Kirito draws back, nicking the younger musician's chin with his knuckles*
Kohta: ::snorts, flicking his head away from Kirito's hand:: So demanding. ::moves towards the table and holds the small wrapped box at arm's length towards Kirito, his cheeks rising in heat:: If you don't like it then...I can take it back and get something else.
Kirito: *Kirito accepts the tiny trinket box, shaking it with a curious expression, all anger apparently melted like ice off his shoulders with that small admission of regret. He pulls the paper off neatly, smiling faintly at the endearingly bad wrapping job, opening the case*
Kohta: ::Kohta scratches the back of his head nervously, eyeing Kirito's expression:: I'm sorry if it's stupid, or if you don't like it.... ::he imagines the ideal situation, where Kirito would look at him thoughtfully and meaningfully and thank him with tears in his eyes and a big hug...Kohta can't help but smile to himself at the mere thought of Kirito acting so mushy::
Kirito: *Instead of that fantasy, Kohta receives a thoughtful expression as the singer lifts the ornate, Gothic cross from the soft cotton padding beneath it. He examines the necklace with fingers and eyes* This is gorgeous...
Kohta: Is it? When I saw it.... ::Kohta recalls his little shopping escapade--with the ever present tirade of his strong emotions weighing down on his choice of a present-- and seeing the almost laughable ironic beauty of the cross:: ....I had a feeling you'd like it. Here, put it on. ::Kohta moves closer towards Kirito, his eyes shining in anticipation::
Kirito: *Without any apprehension whatsoever, Kirito hands the silvered piece of jewelry to his brother, squeezing the man's fingers as they draw away. It's not compellingly evident, the weight that's been lifted from his slender shoulders with the return of their fraternal closeness. The names and the yelling had been shaking him to the very foundation. Cement settled, he turns his back to his brother, pulling up his semi-long, multicolored hair from his neck*
Kohta: ::Kohta holds the necklace carefully in his fingers, moving his arms over Kirito's shoulders, the necklace draping lightly around his neck. What seems like a million moments later he moves his arms back to hook the silver clasp, fussing with Kirito's hair over it, and finally moving back silently:: What do you think?
Kirito: *Not turning back just yet, Kirito's fingers dance over the cross, testing the effect of the shining metal against his tight tee shirt -- a memoire of their past tour* I love it.
Kohta: I'm so glad. ::Kohta's voice is thin and quiet, staring at Kirito's back, his throat dry::
Kirito: *Completely unprivy to any emotional cataclysm warring in his brother's mind, Kirito takes time in lifting the cross to catch the light, finally letting his hair curtain his neck*
Kohta: ::He fidgets, his tongue rolling over his lips, feeling an odd nervousness in the silence::
Kirito: *Turning like it's an afterthought, the singer lets the cross settle on the rise of his chest* Thank you.
Kohta: You...don't have to thank me. ::Glances at Kirito's chest, and then back up to his face:: It looks nice.
Kirito: I know. *He answers both statements at once*
Kohta: ::Watches Kirito's face for a moment, then turns to pick up his jacket again and slip it on:: Well... that's what I showed up here for, so... ::looks at Kirito again, only this time half expectantly, half hopefully::
Kirito: You're leaving? *A query laced with suspicion. Are they still on rocky grounds? Hands settled on the peaks of his knees, his eyes are fixed on Kohta*
Kohta: ::He shrugs, his narrow shoulders rising beneath the smooth leather of his jacket:: I don't want to interrupt anything you were doing...of course...::his face switches into a playful smile, flopping down to make himself comfortable on Kirito's sofa:: if you really want some company, I suppose I could take time out of my busy scheduale to stay with you.
Kirito: Oh, shut up. *It is Kirito who rises this time, unfolding his frame to go into his kitchen, the clinking sounds of glassware telling what he's doing*
Kohta: What was that? You love me so much you can't let me go home? ::moves a pillow behind his head and folds his arms across his chest, glancing around at the ever familiar decorations of Kirito's living room::
Kirito: Right. *Is Kirito's sarastic charge from the kitchen*
Kohta: You're no fun. ::sighs and closes his eyes, relaxing while waiting for Kirito to return from the kitchen::