[While Solomon's resisted (or tried to) all things suggestive or otherwise explicit during their time in here, there's very little physical protest when Takasugi presses on; the bite to his thigh earns a twitch of disapproval -- surprise? A combination of both, though it's something he's earned for all those meals most probably. A grunt marks that exposure, feigned displeasure abundant.]
You're taking this too f--
[The combination of his mouth and the augmented sensation of a beejer with the bathwater special has him shutting up in a hurry -- audibly sucking in a breath and holding it, shifting his weight in place. An elbow has him braced against the side of the tub, his opposite hand finds a place atop Takasugi's head. The hair there's gripped, but there isn't a lot of weight to speak for. He's not trying to drown him, and Takasugi's doing a fine job of getting him riled up.]
Ha. [An audible release of breath. A leg shifts, hooking over his shoulder. Fingers rake down the back of his head, slicking his hair back and kneading the base of his skull.] You don't listen.
[While arching his back, trying to somehow offer more of himself in this awkward ass tub...]
no subject
You're taking this too f--
[The combination of his mouth and the augmented sensation of a beejer with the bathwater special has him shutting up in a hurry -- audibly sucking in a breath and holding it, shifting his weight in place. An elbow has him braced against the side of the tub, his opposite hand finds a place atop Takasugi's head. The hair there's gripped, but there isn't a lot of weight to speak for. He's not trying to drown him, and Takasugi's doing a fine job of getting him riled up.]
Ha. [An audible release of breath. A leg shifts, hooking over his shoulder. Fingers rake down the back of his head, slicking his hair back and kneading the base of his skull.] You don't listen.
[While arching his back, trying to somehow offer more of himself in this awkward ass tub...]