[Natsume had only been teasing, but now he's cracking an eye open to peer at.. well, the top of Kazuya's head. That little sorry had sounded more guilty than he'd expected. Especially since he'd expected a denial. He tucks that thought away for later, when his brain wasn't still feeling gently melted along with the rest of his body.
Lazily, Natsume's hand finds its way over to ruffle Kazuya's hair. Sure, he can sniff. Weirdo. Natsume knows he just smells like sweat and the musk of sex, and.. hm. Surely Kazuya couldn't sense that, right?
But again. Thinking about it requires effort, and right now he was too pleasantly worn out to care. His shoulder did ache, though.]
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Lazily, Natsume's hand finds its way over to ruffle Kazuya's hair. Sure, he can sniff. Weirdo. Natsume knows he just smells like sweat and the musk of sex, and.. hm. Surely Kazuya couldn't sense that, right?
But again. Thinking about it requires effort, and right now he was too pleasantly worn out to care. His shoulder did ache, though.]