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Physical affection was an absurd thing, and never in his lifetime would Obanai have found himself an advocate for it. But it was not his lifetime, not anymore. He'd lived and died, and now he had a second chance to do things differently. And maybe a second chance to admit to himself that the closest people he held in high esteem had been onto something when they'd chosen physical affection to heal.
Frowning deeply at the still figure of Tomioka Giyu; left alone in the meeting room, everyone else having said their goodbyes and made their way out to eat and drink and catch-up, he sighed. Physical affection, Kyojuro had stood by its healing properties, squeezing him into bone-crushing hugs since he was a kid, and Mitsuri, he flushed red just thinking about the gentle press of her hand against his cheek and the brush of her fingers on his palm. Not to mention Tengen's incessant need to ruffle his hair every time he found something he said amusing. His fondness was sickeningly affectionate unfortunately.
Yeah, his idiots had decided he needed healing, and the best way to do it was to shower him with physical affection. And hadn't it worked? For a man like him to know love, to know loss, to mourn and to accept peace, did that not mean he'd opened his heart to the affection of others? Sure, Sanemi went against the grapevine with his aversion to any form of physically expressed love, but that's likely because Obanai himself had failed him in that department. He was his closest person. Well, the closest person he'd admit to out loud under duress, and he hadn't paid the love he'd received forward to his friend. Maybe if he'd had, Sanemi and Genya could have---
He frowned, cutting the thoughts off before it buried him alive in grief. He would fix that too this time around, he would. But for now, Tomioka Giyu was sitting right there. All pitiful, sad, and pathetic, and there was something Obanai could do about that right now. So with a heavy sigh, he shuffled back into the meeting room, deliberately ignoring the sudden stiffness of Giyu's back.
'Whatever,' Obanai thought, making his way towards him. The idiot could feel all standoffish and withdrawn in his heart, but physically he was here, and he would receive affection, if that was the last thing the snake pillar did.
Clearly meditating together that one time hadn't thawed those walls any and it had been weeks since they'd last seen each other. Something drastic needed to take place and fast and this was the best possible solution Obanai's scrambled brain had come up with, so--
Dropping down next to Giyu, he slid into the other's personal space, careful to press their sides flush together and throwing a stilted arm around his shoulders; nearly killing Giyu where he sat from the way the other's breath hitched before he started choking on air. 'Join the club,' Obanai hissed mentally, refusing to move away as he pulled the other close. 'I am about to die of embarrassment too, idiot, but damn you, you don't get to be miserable. Not after everything.' So with a deep breath, and fingers tightening bruisingly hard to stop the flailing escaping attempt by the other, he spoke, voice slow and embarrassingly stilted. "'You doing okay?"
Giyu seemed to choke harder, and part of Obanai really wanted to help him along that journey and put them both out of their miseries, but all he did was pat the other roughly on the back and sigh as he listened to the water pillar try to catch his breath.
"What is… what -- what do you want, Iguro-san?"
"Well, well," Obanai scoffed, carefully slinking his arm right back around his shoulders; but only after making sure the other wouldn't die on him anytime soon, stubbornly ignoring the wooden-like property Giyu's body had taken once again. "He talks at last."
"Forgive me," Giyu's voice was devoid of emotions, yet fooling no one. "You took me off guard. Your previous behavior never signified anything like," his eyes darted to the hand resting by his neck in bewilderment. "This."
"What can I say," Obanai shrugged, trying very, very hard to come across as casual rather than the awkward child Kyojuro had to hug therapy for years. "Only one of us seems to put effort into our non-existent relationship, and I figured since you are so averse to friendship, I'd just force it on you."
"What?"
The utter nakedness in that question, the raw surprise, it nearly unbalanced Obanai, and a dull part of his heart long buried, ached.
"You heard me," he gritted out, refusing to meet the other's wide-eyed gaze. "We're friends now, and there is nothing you can do to change it."
Silence, then in a quiet voice Obanai had never heard from the other 'there are a lot of that going on around here today' he mused, Giyu asked. "And this invading my space thing, will that….continue?"
The snake pillar snorted, drawing the other man closer and putting his chin on his shoulder, making him involuntarily flinch back, Obanai only dug his chin deeper. "If you got a problem with it, you better stop now, because I'm not stopping," his fingers tightened. "Friend." The last word sounded more like a threat than the promise he'd meant for it to be, but Giyu's mouth falling open, eyes shining in a way that was an all-too-familiar expression Obanai had seen time and time again in the mirror growing up made him press his forehead against the side of the other's head and hold on tight until Giyu's muscles loosened and he ever so slightly pressed his head back against his. And wasn't that the most unexpected, heart-breaking thing to have occurred in Obanai's recently acquired second life. If he'd only known it took so little-----
But really knowing Giyu, he'd likely avoid him for the foreseeable future. Hating himself for giving into this brief respite of goodwill he'd long deemed himself underserving off. He'd run and hide and punish himself, and frankly, Obanai was not looking forward to the uphill battle he'd have to claw his way through to keep this idiot in his life. But this was a start and a start was all it took to reach an end. And this ending, this ending would keep them all breathing, happy and healed. Iguro Obanai make sure of it.
For in this lifetime Tomioka Giyu would not be lonely. Not on his watch. Not after learning; far too late, the mirrored guilt they both felt. The aching need for redemption, for death, for family long lost, for blood you could not wash off your hands because of choices you made. The loneliness, the bone chilling self-hatred. No, he refused to let it lay there festering within someone else. Not again, never again. This time he'd be his Kyojuro, his Sanemi, his Mitsuri, he'll be the one to do whatever it takes.
Finally after what felt like hours, Giyu sighed ever so softly, body still stiff as a board but head nearly buried in his hair and Obanai closed his eyes, drinking it in.
'I will not let you drown,' he thought. 'Not in this lifetime water pillar, so watch me save you.'