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“I think we aught to get Dara a hawk this spring,” Shōkashi mused, playing with the ends of his hair, his cheek pressed against Takeomo’s arm. The candles on the desk flickered a bit with the autumn breeze rolling in through the window, and with a slight shiver he drew closer, hoping to leech some of the heat out of the other.
All Takeomo did was grunt in response, dipping his brush in the ink well and tapping it against the edge before continuing on with his paperwork.
Not that Shōkashi needed anything else. His eyes followed the movement of Takeomo’s brush, head moving along with the arm it was laying against as he twisted his hair around his fingers. “Would be a late birthday gift but I think he’d like that. Couldn’t exactly get a baby or an egg in winter.”
This time it was more of a low hum than a grunt. With one of the candles flickering dangerously low Shōkashi straightened back up, knowing exactly which drawer held the spares and lighting one with a quick and small katon. It might be getting late but Takeomo wouldn’t be heading off to bed anytime soon. He’d never been one to have a reasonable sleep schedule.
“Maybe we could rope Zuzu into building a hatchery for him? Or, not a hatchery, a...coop? Do they call them a coop if they’re not for chickens?”
If he hadn’t known him so well Shōkashi probably would have missed the other’s microscopic shrug, the barest twitch of one shoulder in response. He puzzled over the terminology as he settled himself right back at his side, this time busying his hand playing with the fabric of the other’s shirt instead of his own hair.
“He should still be awake, actually...” Shōkashi’s sensing skills had never been the level of Madara’s perhaps but they were decent for an Uchiha, and it took little effort in locating Izuna’s signature across the house. Still awake, then. “I’ll go ask him real quick.”
With a quick peck to Takeomo’s cheek, Shōkashi was off - but not before he caught the flicker of something soft and warm in his love’s eyes from the affection.