[The gentle kiss has his ear twitching appreciatively, automatically, a reflex that Jyuto might be embarrassed about if he wasn't completly focused on the rhythmic feeling of Akira's hands against his scalp, so much better than the hurried, frantic way he'd tried to emulate it on his own countless nights before. His teeth find Akira's upper lip again, rolling the warm flesh and savouring the taste of him, and he nuzzles against the side of Akira's nose. It's a spot of affection that's there before Jyuto has a chance to think about it, such a stark contrast to his usual teasing haughtiness, but as natural as the air between them.]
Good. [Thank you.] I wouldn't let you leave even if you wanted to.
[Even if he tried to make a run for the window, Jyuto's hands would be there to stop him. For a moment, he considers reaching back to his belt, where a barely concealed harness sits under the dark curtain of his coattails and a pair of handcuffs rest against his hip; considers how easy it would be to restrain him now, finally, the one target who's managed to elude him for so long. He has to laugh to himself at how little that seems to matter now, when there are far more important things like the taste of his favourite brand of cigarettes lingering on Akira's lips, or the low rumble in the back of the other's throat that sends something electric down his spine.]
So much for my reputation, hm? [He lets a hand fall down to cup the side of Akira's cheek, far too much fondness for the pretense of professionalism they've halfheartedly maintained until now.] Who'd have thought.
no subject
Good. [Thank you.] I wouldn't let you leave even if you wanted to.
[Even if he tried to make a run for the window, Jyuto's hands would be there to stop him. For a moment, he considers reaching back to his belt, where a barely concealed harness sits under the dark curtain of his coattails and a pair of handcuffs rest against his hip; considers how easy it would be to restrain him now, finally, the one target who's managed to elude him for so long. He has to laugh to himself at how little that seems to matter now, when there are far more important things like the taste of his favourite brand of cigarettes lingering on Akira's lips, or the low rumble in the back of the other's throat that sends something electric down his spine.]
So much for my reputation, hm? [He lets a hand fall down to cup the side of Akira's cheek, far too much fondness for the pretense of professionalism they've halfheartedly maintained until now.] Who'd have thought.