Oh Suzaku. He genuinely does want to embrace, to hold him close and just bask in having Suzaku look at him without the shadow of their war against each other lingering behind his eyes. He’s missed this man so very much.
But he’s become more and more aware as they’ve sat there kissing each other that they’re in a very public place in the middle of the afternoon and most people are walking into the club stone cold sober. He draws back after another kiss, cupping Suzaku’s face in his hands to prevent him from leaning in for more.
“I’m less of an exhibitionist than you might imagine.” He can’t take Suzaku back to his room - too soon to be reminded of the blood - and he’s not fond of the idea of doing a walk of shame in front of Suzaku’s suitemates either. He waves over a succubus who’s been hovering far too near (the little parasite) and murmurs a request for a clean private room. She points the way and he swings his legs off of Suzaku’s lap, catching his hand to encourage him to get up and follow.
“I can pay more attention to you if we’re somewhere by ourselves.” He snatches up the bottle of wine too and with their palms joined, pulls him through the crowds towards the little backstairs that lead up to the poky private bedrooms that are little more than a bed and a shelf of alarming lovemaking aids.
They’d held hands before, back before Japan had been conquered, just two boys dragging each other around the backwoods of Suzaku’s family home, heady on the fact they finally had a friend. Those had been innocent times and he does hope Suzaku’s maintained some of that innocence. For all that he said ‘I’ll do whatever you want’ if Suzaku picked up the fuzzy handcuffs he’d die.
no subject
But he’s become more and more aware as they’ve sat there kissing each other that they’re in a very public place in the middle of the afternoon and most people are walking into the club stone cold sober. He draws back after another kiss, cupping Suzaku’s face in his hands to prevent him from leaning in for more.
“I’m less of an exhibitionist than you might imagine.” He can’t take Suzaku back to his room - too soon to be reminded of the blood - and he’s not fond of the idea of doing a walk of shame in front of Suzaku’s suitemates either. He waves over a succubus who’s been hovering far too near (the little parasite) and murmurs a request for a clean private room. She points the way and he swings his legs off of Suzaku’s lap, catching his hand to encourage him to get up and follow.
“I can pay more attention to you if we’re somewhere by ourselves.” He snatches up the bottle of wine too and with their palms joined, pulls him through the crowds towards the little backstairs that lead up to the poky private bedrooms that are little more than a bed and a shelf of alarming lovemaking aids.
They’d held hands before, back before Japan had been conquered, just two boys dragging each other around the backwoods of Suzaku’s family home, heady on the fact they finally had a friend. Those had been innocent times and he does hope Suzaku’s maintained some of that innocence. For all that he said ‘I’ll do whatever you want’ if Suzaku picked up the fuzzy handcuffs he’d die.