[The soap isn't smeared on a loofah, though plenty are hanging here and there. Assorted bath brushes lie out of reach -- maybe on purpose, most likely a coincidence. The body wash finds a palm and he's easing up, encouraging some weight against him as he smears some of that lather over his shoulders, down Takasugi's back. Prep Work. It comes ahead of a massage starting at his shoulders, kneading carefully, inching downward to work taught muscles between his thumbs in mostly circular motions. It's a pattern he won't stray far from, working the tissue with both hands right down to the waterline wherein he'll scoop some up, run it over his back and re-pave an upward path, rinsing as he goes. It's a willfully slow process -- ironic, considering how much he'd fought the concept.
A quick kiss finds the side of Takasugi's head, intentionally ruffling the spot with his nose. This is the part where he gets aroused for literally no reason. Bare minimum.]
How is it?
[Murmured, finally, while smoothing the spot between his shoulderblades. A second hand's fallen to a thigh -- outer, resting idle.]
no subject
A quick kiss finds the side of Takasugi's head, intentionally ruffling the spot with his nose. This is the part where he gets aroused for literally no reason. Bare minimum.]
How is it?
[Murmured, finally, while smoothing the spot between his shoulderblades. A second hand's fallen to a thigh -- outer, resting idle.]