[ignored completely. one button after the next twists and reverse-knots through its buttonhole. halfway down, he starts flicking the material open once the plastic round's made the other side. baring aki's chest more and more with each deft twist. not bothering with a second hand because it's a little too damn focused on squeezing the other man's thigh and drawing patterns on his upper leg. a soft warning growl rumbles in his throat as aki dares to move, thumb and fifth finger splayed in pinch on either side of his knee. but when he does little more than bring his other leg up to join the party, straddling his chest, the blonde relents and returns to his work. che! too late to take his chest out of reach when he's already down at his stomach! "nice try" is written all across his face, in the hook of his mouth's corner and dip of his inner brows.
his collar's shoved open, baring the hard bones of his clavicles and the top half of a large messy scar blown open over the center of his powerful chest. he shrugs a shoulder, irritated at his jacket clinging to him when his shirt's getting pushed apart. damn thing, snagging at his elbow and falling back towards his neck the second he moves his arm again. he gives up after a few attempts and with a deft tug, pulls aki's shirt from the hem of his pants. mutual success, his own shirt thrown open and flanking his muscular core with garish red material and highlighting a notable puncture scar torn through his abdomen on the lower right side.
a finger notches in aki's belt, preventing him from scooting any further back without him tugging his belt and fly open. a clink of metal and hiss of leather earn him the former, but the latter's left only half sprung, splayed in a v above his groin. then drops his arm with a grunt of impatience as aki works on his belt.]
Nothing boring, lame, weak, or stupid. [never said he'd answer in detail. as soon as his belt's slithered free and discarded to the floor like an abandoned serpent, he quickly shoves the toe of one annoying dress sneaker (they exist, sue him) and kicks it off with a deft digging press. aki takes a moment to shrug off his own shirt and any thought he had to sit up and divest his own gets snagged at the sight. corded muscle, impressive definition, scars denoting battle, this guy's seen some shit in his life. heh, something tells him aki had no intention of stripping down before he grabbed his damn tie earlier. now he's doing exactly that.] Someone not afraid to show some damn effort.
[dropping back to the bed, he arches his hips with a grunt, fingers gripping at the sheets as his pants yank and shuck down his hips with a hard, skilled pull. cock flopping back against a chiseled v of his pelvis, he tugs a knee up to help aki strip the material off his limbs. a quick twist and he hauls his shoulder and arm from his jacket as the other man deals with his pants and boxer briefs. bringing into view his own scarred shoulder from under the shirt, a second wound torn front to back. his tongue sweeps between his teeth as he works his other arm free, shucking his shirt and jacket as his eyes lock on aki's pants as if they're some kind of prey to devour. before reaching out and hooking his toes into the flared v of his fly, then shoving down to drag aki's pants towards his knees and thigh.] Off. You're overdressed.
no subject
his collar's shoved open, baring the hard bones of his clavicles and the top half of a large messy scar blown open over the center of his powerful chest. he shrugs a shoulder, irritated at his jacket clinging to him when his shirt's getting pushed apart. damn thing, snagging at his elbow and falling back towards his neck the second he moves his arm again. he gives up after a few attempts and with a deft tug, pulls aki's shirt from the hem of his pants. mutual success, his own shirt thrown open and flanking his muscular core with garish red material and highlighting a notable puncture scar torn through his abdomen on the lower right side.
a finger notches in aki's belt, preventing him from scooting any further back without him tugging his belt and fly open. a clink of metal and hiss of leather earn him the former, but the latter's left only half sprung, splayed in a v above his groin. then drops his arm with a grunt of impatience as aki works on his belt.]
Nothing boring, lame, weak, or stupid. [never said he'd answer in detail. as soon as his belt's slithered free and discarded to the floor like an abandoned serpent, he quickly shoves the toe of one annoying dress sneaker (they exist, sue him) and kicks it off with a deft digging press. aki takes a moment to shrug off his own shirt and any thought he had to sit up and divest his own gets snagged at the sight. corded muscle, impressive definition, scars denoting battle, this guy's seen some shit in his life. heh, something tells him aki had no intention of stripping down before he grabbed his damn tie earlier. now he's doing exactly that.] Someone not afraid to show some damn effort.
[dropping back to the bed, he arches his hips with a grunt, fingers gripping at the sheets as his pants yank and shuck down his hips with a hard, skilled pull. cock flopping back against a chiseled v of his pelvis, he tugs a knee up to help aki strip the material off his limbs. a quick twist and he hauls his shoulder and arm from his jacket as the other man deals with his pants and boxer briefs. bringing into view his own scarred shoulder from under the shirt, a second wound torn front to back. his tongue sweeps between his teeth as he works his other arm free, shucking his shirt and jacket as his eyes lock on aki's pants as if they're some kind of prey to devour. before reaching out and hooking his toes into the flared v of his fly, then shoving down to drag aki's pants towards his knees and thigh.] Off. You're overdressed.