( his mouth opens, and closes--and then he laughs, as though even he hadn't thought it through completely. it would be rude to offer to rip his shirt apart at the seams, but that may be the only option; it's either that, or unbuttoning his shirt and leaving it on, which wouldn't be a problem, either, and he perks up to say so.
that is, until nanami leans in closer to him--and his shoulders tense, involuntary, a little shiver of pleasure at the sound of his voice. since when is that a thing? normally he's the one in charge, the one controlling and guiding the situation, as though they're both still young, as though nanami's still his underclassman; now, it feels different, unbalanced, and he doesn't even know where to start with that feeling.
nanami's hands move over him, searching for pockets, and he lets it go on for as long as it feels good--naturally, once nanami reaches towards the small pocket at the front of his trousers, he's immediately sliding his own hands down, awkwardly working to try to wrap his fingers around nanami's wrists. )
That's not searching. ( he tries for nonchalant, but it sounds a little too breathy. ) You're groping me. I'm telling.
( --telling who, exactly? he gives a pointed tug on nanami's hands again, almost pleading; the key is right there, so he wants to stop his probing fingers if he can, offering a compromise instead: )
Come on, I'll unbutton your shirt. You can leave it on.
no subject
that is, until nanami leans in closer to him--and his shoulders tense, involuntary, a little shiver of pleasure at the sound of his voice. since when is that a thing? normally he's the one in charge, the one controlling and guiding the situation, as though they're both still young, as though nanami's still his underclassman; now, it feels different, unbalanced, and he doesn't even know where to start with that feeling.
nanami's hands move over him, searching for pockets, and he lets it go on for as long as it feels good--naturally, once nanami reaches towards the small pocket at the front of his trousers, he's immediately sliding his own hands down, awkwardly working to try to wrap his fingers around nanami's wrists. )
That's not searching. ( he tries for nonchalant, but it sounds a little too breathy. ) You're groping me. I'm telling.
( --telling who, exactly? he gives a pointed tug on nanami's hands again, almost pleading; the key is right there, so he wants to stop his probing fingers if he can, offering a compromise instead: )
Come on, I'll unbutton your shirt. You can leave it on.