[ samatoki’s voice is gravelly and soft right by his ear, the cigarette smoke always near him in aural form: it’d make him shiver if he wasn’t so distracted putting his mouth all over samatoki’s skin instead. his brows pinch just briefly, though, and he lets the words slink down his spine, stopping where his teeth brush against his collarbone.
everywhere, his brain supplies helpfully, and though he’s loathe to pull much further up, ichiro glances upwards to look at samatoki through the thick curtain of his bangs, eyes dark with want. ] Nowhere I can reach that well here. [ maybe samatoki’ll let him pick him up. ] Bedroom?
no subject
everywhere, his brain supplies helpfully, and though he’s loathe to pull much further up, ichiro glances upwards to look at samatoki through the thick curtain of his bangs, eyes dark with want. ] Nowhere I can reach that well here. [ maybe samatoki’ll let him pick him up. ] Bedroom?