Work Text:
The muted click of the door sounded loud in the room, pulling Mutsunokami away from his inner thoughts to look around the interior after entering. It was dim, given the later hour, setting his hands to search for the lamp to light. Soft yellow flooded the room when he finally succeeded, revealing the faces that decorated the wall further, dragging his eyes along towards them. Most pictures went into catalogues, scrapbooks that were more decorated than others depending on which tantou got ahold of it. But these? The ones on his walls were by far his favorites, and thus gained a spot of honor decorating his walls.
Bright eyes shifted along, flicking from each photo in turn, studying the smiling, candid, or embarrassed faces caught on film. Yes, this was his collection, his new memories.
And yet, one detail had eluded him until now. How had he not even seen it?
Each photo offered a view into his thoughts. On his walls, no one was excluded. The pattern seemed to be making sure he had one up of everyone at the citadel in group form or solo. With one little addition. Something he had yet to realize until a certain someone failed to leave his thoughts.
Izuminokami featured in almost all of them.
Not singular, no. Almost every single group photo held the Shinsengumi sword, in one aspect or another. And several of the focused shots held the man in the background as well. As the realization sunk in, Mutsu scrambled for his lamp, moving to first one wall, then the next, poring over each piece of filmed treasure to find those teal eyes or a twist of hair. Why?
Every wall returned to him the sight of the confident uchigatana, leaving Mutsu to sag down in the middle of the room under the weight of that thought, slowly sliding his lamp onto the low table beside him where his model ship took prize positioning.
Tentatively, well calloused fingers moved up now that they were free, running along the faded bruising at his throat, mind stumbling on the lewd imagery that associated with the mild press of protesting flesh. Soft groans, the slide of fingers on hot flesh. Teal eyes like blue fire burning into him with intent as he gasped for breath, hand gripping tight around his cock while Izumi fucked up into it with abandon. Snapping his own hips into Izumi’s grip as light spots danced in his eyes. Losing time to each other and sliding away into the dark.
Gods, what had he done in this world to miss such an obvious thing?
A surprised laugh slipped from his lips, then another, the Tosa blade dropping back to his floor to stare at the ceiling as the displaced air sent the lamp flickering briefly with distress. It sent the shine of the glossy photos into a shimmer, almost sending the dashi in the photos into motion with a trick of the eye. “Izumi.” Mutsu breathed, half laughing to himself as his fingers continued to rub along the fading red and yellow marks. “Ya got some nerve.” He huffed, steadily lost into his thoughts. “Gettin’ in my head.”
And heart.