[ There’s a desperation in that second kiss, the way Bandou presses back into it with a latch of arms around the shorter man, ensuring they’re body-to-body for the duration. Tatara can’t help a pleased sort of half-sigh that slips out in the process. Oh, how he’s missed skin-to-skin contact; it’s nearly enough to make him shiver, just at that sensation alone.
He’s quick, however, from that point on to pry them apart enough to drop little kisses elsewhere, along collarbones and sternum, where he pauses. A hand brushes over a familiar sigil -- the one that marks them as family, (if not by blood relation), Tatara’s own to match just out of sight for the moment, on his shoulderblade.
He wonders, distantly and fleetingly, if this mark still keeps away stomachaches like Bandou once proclaimed it to. Can he ask that...? It’s probably best not to. He’s not sure whom his clanmate belongs to, is the shinki of, but he’d rather they not potentially be stung, or worse. So he’ll leave it be, trailing touch down, down, below a navel, and...
Fingers pause there, at the waistline of his pants, poised to undo them in no unclear fashion, but waiting. Even -- or perhaps especially -- with as drunk as Bandou is, consent is an important prerequisite here, before they can move forward. With an earnest glance upward: ]
sleepin' with the boss's right hand man, eh? ;3
Date: 2017-06-20 08:58 pm (UTC)He’s quick, however, from that point on to pry them apart enough to drop little kisses elsewhere, along collarbones and sternum, where he pauses. A hand brushes over a familiar sigil -- the one that marks them as family, (if not by blood relation), Tatara’s own to match just out of sight for the moment, on his shoulderblade.
He wonders, distantly and fleetingly, if this mark still keeps away stomachaches like Bandou once proclaimed it to. Can he ask that...? It’s probably best not to. He’s not sure whom his clanmate belongs to, is the shinki of, but he’d rather they not potentially be stung, or worse. So he’ll leave it be, trailing touch down, down, below a navel, and...
Fingers pause there, at the waistline of his pants, poised to undo them in no unclear fashion, but waiting. Even -- or perhaps especially -- with as drunk as Bandou is, consent is an important prerequisite here, before they can move forward. With an earnest glance upward: ]
Is it okay, San-chan?