A man walks in the wilderness. He counts his steps to stay sane. If he did not count, his thoughts would come to his situation. His car has broken down on him, and he must count to forget about this.
(more) The trees, the chirping birds, and the fresh smell of the morning only remind him of his predicament. So he counts to forget and pays no attention to the beauty.
He pays attention to the weight of his phone in his pocket. It is dead now but it reminds him of the things he must do when he gets to a gas station across this stretch of land; it reminds him of why he counts. (less)
Sometimes Arthur forgets just how /vast/ Canada is, how beautiful the land is. He’s always preferred the country to the city, but the countryside here means something entirely different. There’s still a raw wildness here, a beauty that can’t be found anywhere else.
“I’m surprised you wanted t(more)o meet here,” a soft voice says from behind. Arthur turns on his heel and can’t help but think that Matthew is just as beautiful as the land promises.
“I’ve always liked being at the top of the world.”
“As long as it’s August,” Matthew jokes, noticing Arthur’s heavy jacket.
Arthur means to make a quip, but instead he focuses on Matthew’s face and suddenly breathes out what’s on his mind, “you’re beautiful.”
The younger blond blushes only for a moment, not used to hearing that sort of thing from the other man. The wild north had always had a curious affect on people. Normally he might mumble and pass it off, but this is his land and his territory and he won’t play the blushing virgin here.
“It’s warmer in the cabin,” he replies, and it’s almost smooth, almost shows Francis’ influence until Matthew bends down to kiss him. Not a promise of something to come, not something sweet, but rough and carnal and it’s like being crushed in an avalanche.
Gotou was sitting at the table watching the news when something (one?) thudded into the front door. He blinked, looked over at the door - and then it thudded again, and by the third thud he realized someone was knocking something large and heavy into it, so he hurried(more) to his feet and opened the door.
Masayoshi was rearing back to smack the door with his head again. "Gotou-san!" he said surprised, and rocked forward like a child's toy on his feet, somehow not overbalancing. He had bags arranged carefully in his arms and a bouquet of flowers tucked in there, pointed upward.
"Were you knocking with your HEAD?" Gotou asked.
"My hands are full," Masayoshi said breathlessly. He shook his head hard and Gotou swore he could hear rattling. "I'm fine, I have a hard head!"
"I know, and you could have yelled - I would have heard you," Gotou said. "Let me take something before you drop it all."
There was some shuffling of bags around - they were mostly full of clothes, although one bag looked suspiciously like action figures - "what is that?" Gotou asked, eyeing the bouquet.
"I saw a bunch of fans, one of them gave it to me," Masayoshi said cheerfully. He dropped his clothing bags in the main room. "Man, it's so good to have some of my own clothes again."
"What do I do with it?"
Masayoshi cocked his head. "You put them in a vase with some water?" He said it so matter-of-factly, Gotou had to sigh.
"Yoshi, why on earth would I own a vase?"
"Ah," Masayoshi said.
Fortunately, Gotou did own some deep cups - and that was how the flowers ended up in the center of the table, completely blocking his view of the television.(less)