[ Who said this scrawny little runt could do that, huh? The swiping at the stray bit of juice. Someone like Fuuta is not supposed to have any appeal to him at all. He's loud and yappy (pot, kettle, etc...), he looks like he's never exercised a day in his life, and with those eyebags when is the last time he even slept (again, there's something very hypocritical in this assessment)?
And yet Narumi's gaze follows every last little bit of movement as Fuuta cleans off the small mess made on his face.
... Narumi could make a bigger mess out of it.......
Alright, fine, fuck it. The tongue running over his lips gets to be too much, and Narumi's on his feet and grabbing Fuuta by the collar of his sweatshirt in an instant. ]
You want to make this a competition? Fine, I'll give you a competition.
[ He says as he starts to mindlessly tug Fuuta along to...? He's not sure to where, but he at least still has his wits about him enough to know they should take this somewhere a little more private. ]
no subject
And yet Narumi's gaze follows every last little bit of movement as Fuuta cleans off the small mess made on his face.
... Narumi could make a bigger mess out of it.......
Alright, fine, fuck it. The tongue running over his lips gets to be too much, and Narumi's on his feet and grabbing Fuuta by the collar of his sweatshirt in an instant. ]
You want to make this a competition? Fine, I'll give you a competition.
[ He says as he starts to mindlessly tug Fuuta along to...? He's not sure to where, but he at least still has his wits about him enough to know they should take this somewhere a little more private. ]