[ Satoru thinks the color is quite becoming on Suguru... It's not often he gets to see him blush, so he leans in for a kiss after they toss the shirt aside like a little reward. His hands find themselves occupied with holding onto Suguru's waist and snaking down, slipping his thumbs below the waistband and pressing against the little dips created by hip bone.
Suguru can study the mark he left, still colored though fading, and the pressure ushers a low groan against his lips. It's a nice sort of soreness. It makes him tense, then unwind. ]
You can give me as many as you want.
[ Pulling away and giving him some peace, Satoru takes off his own shirt. ]
no subject
Suguru can study the mark he left, still colored though fading, and the pressure ushers a low groan against his lips. It's a nice sort of soreness. It makes him tense, then unwind. ]
You can give me as many as you want.
[ Pulling away and giving him some peace, Satoru takes off his own shirt. ]
The door's locked, right?