[ It's hard to focus on anything except the pleasure of having a hand on him, of having it be Tsurumaru who is leaning over him, whispering to him, offering him this warmth and tenderness. The confession is still burning through him, the knowledge that his affection really is returned, that there is a sanctuary to be found in the depth of his own affection and the way it flushes his skin like a tattoo.
Biting his lip, he tries to smother his noises, but it's not as if anyone is going to hear them. They're almost entirely alone, in their own room, and the staff won't be disturbing them now. He can give in to his urges, he can let himself be touched, let himself be loved. ]
Cute?
[ It comes out as a little breathless sound, because when had anyone other than Himeno ever called him cute? It had never felt like this with her, though, and the thought fades from his mind immediately; Tsurumaru is the only person his mind can focus on, the only thing that his heart and soul can piece together in this moment.
His hips shift, rocking a little, chasing the pleasure of touch and the warmth of hand before he realises what is happening, and he forces himself to stop, opening his legs instead. With his hair a tangled mess around him and his body lax, robe spread open and baring him wide to Tsuru's gaze, he feels like some kind of bashful maiden on their wedding night.
It's embarrassing, and he tilts his head, just a little, not looking away, but strangely shy with the shift of their position, offering his control to Tsurumaru rather than being in charge.
Licking his lips, he rocks down at the touch of fingers, greedy for it. ]
no subject
Biting his lip, he tries to smother his noises, but it's not as if anyone is going to hear them. They're almost entirely alone, in their own room, and the staff won't be disturbing them now. He can give in to his urges, he can let himself be touched, let himself be loved. ]
Cute?
[ It comes out as a little breathless sound, because when had anyone other than Himeno ever called him cute? It had never felt like this with her, though, and the thought fades from his mind immediately; Tsurumaru is the only person his mind can focus on, the only thing that his heart and soul can piece together in this moment.
His hips shift, rocking a little, chasing the pleasure of touch and the warmth of hand before he realises what is happening, and he forces himself to stop, opening his legs instead. With his hair a tangled mess around him and his body lax, robe spread open and baring him wide to Tsuru's gaze, he feels like some kind of bashful maiden on their wedding night.
It's embarrassing, and he tilts his head, just a little, not looking away, but strangely shy with the shift of their position, offering his control to Tsurumaru rather than being in charge.
Licking his lips, he rocks down at the touch of fingers, greedy for it. ]
You don't have to go so slow.
[ He can take it. ]