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“You can’t win this time. I won’t let it happen.”
An arched eyebrow lifted slightly, accompanied by a noncommittal hum. The evidently unbothered man met Yatogami’s eyes, steadily refusing to back down.
Yatogami would have almost believed the nonchalant confidence oozing from Orochi’s boneless posture if not for the white knuckled grip pressing into the pawn he held in his lap.
Orochi exhaled airily, tilting his chin up in a familiar arrogant expression. “Such are the words of a defeated man. Is that truly your last stance? I would have thought such a loud bark would be accompanied by even the mildest bite.”
A slight grin escaped Yatogami, a corner of his mouth hooking up in a brief crack of his solemn countenance. He let out a gusty sigh as he leaned forward, chest brushing the wooden table, letting the fabric of his cloak pool around Orochi’s resting arm. Yatogami felt more than saw the quick twitch in the man’s wrist, the aborted twist to grab and yank the offending cloth. A smile, softer and gentler than he liked, threatened to grow at the familiar, impatient action, but he shoved it down again in favour of an oily smirk.
Yatogami planted a heavy arm on the table, almost fully out of his own chair as he loomed into Orochi’s treasured personal space with a leer. “Oh? A mild bite? How admirable, refusing to concede defeat even as the sun sets on the battle. How… quaint.”
Orochi’s lethargic eyes barely blinked, his heavy-lidded stare continuing to carelessly meet Yatogami’s. “I might say that myself. How adorably presumptuous it is, to see a little wolf pup yipping until it convinces itself that it might defeat its superiors. Not big enough to fill the gaps between my teeth, but entertaining enough for a short while.”
Yatogami let a quiet, barking laugh escape, looming further forward until his loose hair brushed against Orochi’s chest, forcing the man to look up to meet his eyes. The unhurried, effortless tilt of his head might have been believable if not for the slight, tipping angle that brought one cheek up in a customary action. Yatogami suppressed the urge to lean down and press his own cheek against that proffered touch; no, he must wait to play a longer game to reap greater rewards. No matter how long it might take, he never grew tired of acting out this particular game.
“It would be more convincing, great god, if you weren’t trying to strangle that poor, pitiful pawn to death.”
Yatogami watched in growing, giddy delight as Orochi’s eyebrows lifted in slight surprise, an eye twitching at the irritation of having been seen through. He let the previously stamped-down grin spread across his face, not bothering to hide his glee in the face of Orochi’s rare agitation.
He pressed forward again, lifting his caging hand off the table to curl his fingers gently around Orochi’s chin, tilting the man’s face up slightly. His smile grew at the sight of the flat purse of his lips and unamused eyes; no, he would never tire of this.
“How far the great god has fallen, truly… it's a terrible shame. The regret of a century,” he sighed mournfully, affecting the pouting mien of lamentation. “Losing that famed languorous composure at something so simple as a chess game. All that grace, where did it run off to in these short years?”
Yatogami watched in rapt attention, greedily drinking up every twitch of Orochi’s expression. At his long-winded dramatics, Orochi’s pursed lips softened slightly, eyes warming as he let out a slight, huffing laugh; the gentle set of his smile was no longer smug or smirking. It looked more like the feelings bubbling up in Yatogami’s own smile than he cared to admit.
His breath hitched in his throat, delight simmering at cracking the man’s languid veneer so easily this time and he–
A hand shot up to latch onto the offending arm, and Yatogami’s stomach quickly dropped as he matched that expression in his ever-expanding dictionary of Orochi-isms with the current happenings.
“Orochi n– Ough! ”
A sharp, graceless yank sent Yatogami tumbling down in a flurry of limbs and tangled robes.