[With eye locked on Solomon, too focused for the amount he can actually see in the darkness, and a smile toying on his lips, Takasugi appears lucid. In some regard, he is, his senses cross-wired between dull and alight, culminating as a sharp churning in his gut.
Hopefully that's not vomit waiting to happen.
There's no need for anything especially rare to allow their whim of physicality to meander as it pleases. A small bottle of oil, meant for massages but certainly crafted with other uses in mind, is among the clutter in his drawer. Takasugi will reach for it if necessary, though he's not thinking about anything so specific.
Only the sensation of hands wandering his body. Takasugi's sash melts away, jostled enough to fall open with ease. His posture folds in the same manner, swaying closer to Solomon just as he had in the bar.
But this time he's not stifled with whatever reservations his companion had been gripped by. Lips find his neck and Takasugi sighs; if Solomon won't taste his blood, he can at least feel the coursing of his breath.
Like that, he enjoys what superficial satisfaction Solomon's grazing touch can give him. Until the man opens his mouth not to press red into his skin, but to speak.
He groans, body stiffening not against Solomon's heat but his words. Does the man want simplicity? Is he capable of it? An odd thing to wonder, when Takasugi is usually left questioning if the man has any real depth.
His petulance has left him unsteady.
Simplicity had become a lost cause long ago. When the last of it eroded, Takasugi can't pinpoint. Each shared night of drinking had simply tasted worse, and left him more intoxicated, than the last.
A hand travels up poised spine, nestling fingers into damp hair. His grip twists, he pulls as if he intends to rip a chunk out of the man. The violence is diluted, like every other damn thing between them, but Takasugi can't stop himself from trying to rend more.
As he always does, it's just more blatant in his inebriation.]
I don't care about simple. [Shoulders crested forward, he shifts and positions his mouth against Solomon's neck. As if ready to sink his teeth in, and show the man just how to tear out a throat.] Don't hold back.
no subject
Hopefully that's not vomit waiting to happen.There's no need for anything especially rare to allow their whim of physicality to meander as it pleases. A small bottle of oil, meant for massages but certainly crafted with other uses in mind, is among the clutter in his drawer. Takasugi will reach for it if necessary, though he's not thinking about anything so specific.
Only the sensation of hands wandering his body. Takasugi's sash melts away, jostled enough to fall open with ease. His posture folds in the same manner, swaying closer to Solomon just as he had in the bar.
But this time he's not stifled with whatever reservations his companion had been gripped by. Lips find his neck and Takasugi sighs; if Solomon won't taste his blood, he can at least feel the coursing of his breath.
Like that, he enjoys what superficial satisfaction Solomon's grazing touch can give him. Until the man opens his mouth not to press red into his skin, but to speak.
He groans, body stiffening not against Solomon's heat but his words. Does the man want simplicity? Is he capable of it? An odd thing to wonder, when Takasugi is usually left questioning if the man has any real depth.
His petulance has left him unsteady.
Simplicity had become a lost cause long ago. When the last of it eroded, Takasugi can't pinpoint. Each shared night of drinking had simply tasted worse, and left him more intoxicated, than the last.
A hand travels up poised spine, nestling fingers into damp hair. His grip twists, he pulls as if he intends to rip a chunk out of the man. The violence is diluted, like every other damn thing between them, but Takasugi can't stop himself from trying to rend more.
As he always does, it's just more blatant in his inebriation.]
I don't care about simple. [Shoulders crested forward, he shifts and positions his mouth against Solomon's neck. As if ready to sink his teeth in, and show the man just how to tear out a throat.] Don't hold back.
[A demand given in earnest.]