[ laughter that catches his attention like a siren song for a sailor, his gaze travels up, all of Keigo's warm earth tones cast into cool stone in the low light of a room he doesn't recognize (but it doesn't matter, because doing this with Keigo anywhere feels normal now — especially after a flower-speckled, rain-drenched pagoda had been their first). there's something he thinks sounds worn in that laughter now, the seaglass rough around the edges but its surfaces smoothed with weather, with waiting. ]
[ he wonders how long he would. this, at least, he has the courtesy not to ask. ]
[ reactive. a livewire under his palms, thrumming and responsive — he's always liked that about Keigo, liked it in a way that he guesses other people probably like about him, but the dominant hand Guanshan's usually had in their relationship has meant he gets to enjoy it, a hypocrite to every end, bitter or sweet. he thrashes and rolls his hips and Guanshan meets him like a crashing wave, riding the friction between them, the ebb and flow of pressure and pleasure that draws breath and sound out of them, the red tallies Keigo's leaving on his skin beginning to stipple with sweat. ]
[ It's... well, y'know. ]
[ he does. ]
...You're cute when you're not try'na be. [ hardly prone or skilled at compliments, this is what comes out of him after a moment of stillness where he just looks at the boy beneath him. there's more underneath there, trapped behind a mouth that never was especially good with words and learned to rely so heavily on actions and proof through the unspoken. he falls back on it still after the awkward praise that makes his own cheeks burn beneath the smattering of freckles across his skin, moves on to distract from it as he rears back and hooks his thumbs in the elastic band of Keigo's boxers. it's harsh and clumsy, drunk on intimacy, as he coaxes them off of long legs, tossing them aside with the rest of the clothing, and there he sits: on his knees between parted thighs and bent knees, canting his head aside to kiss at the inside of one, sucking up a lovebite at the tender skin over a muscle. ]
[ hands run appreciatively up the length of his thighs, not hiding his appreciation as he skims over sensitive flesh, palm hooking in the dip of a hip and a thumb brushing up over his balls until his hand closes around the base of his cock, holding up upright and on display. ]
[ — a small smile tugs at his mouth. he really is cute. ]
Get yer lube. I needda make sure you don't miss me again for a while.
no subject
[ he wonders how long he would. this, at least, he has the courtesy not to ask. ]
[ reactive. a livewire under his palms, thrumming and responsive — he's always liked that about Keigo, liked it in a way that he guesses other people probably like about him, but the dominant hand Guanshan's usually had in their relationship has meant he gets to enjoy it, a hypocrite to every end, bitter or sweet. he thrashes and rolls his hips and Guanshan meets him like a crashing wave, riding the friction between them, the ebb and flow of pressure and pleasure that draws breath and sound out of them, the red tallies Keigo's leaving on his skin beginning to stipple with sweat. ]
[ It's... well, y'know. ]
[ he does. ]
...You're cute when you're not try'na be. [ hardly prone or skilled at compliments, this is what comes out of him after a moment of stillness where he just looks at the boy beneath him. there's more underneath there, trapped behind a mouth that never was especially good with words and learned to rely so heavily on actions and proof through the unspoken. he falls back on it still after the awkward praise that makes his own cheeks burn beneath the smattering of freckles across his skin, moves on to distract from it as he rears back and hooks his thumbs in the elastic band of Keigo's boxers. it's harsh and clumsy, drunk on intimacy, as he coaxes them off of long legs, tossing them aside with the rest of the clothing, and there he sits: on his knees between parted thighs and bent knees, canting his head aside to kiss at the inside of one, sucking up a lovebite at the tender skin over a muscle. ]
[ hands run appreciatively up the length of his thighs, not hiding his appreciation as he skims over sensitive flesh, palm hooking in the dip of a hip and a thumb brushing up over his balls until his hand closes around the base of his cock, holding up upright and on display. ]
[ — a small smile tugs at his mouth. he really is cute. ]
Get yer lube. I needda make sure you don't miss me again for a while.