( his lip juts out, as though he wants to make a case for the tie--like that he should have been the one to loosen it, given that it's part of the whole shirt deal, but he keeps his mouth shut, keeps his complaints quiet. testing, he lifts their joined hands, first; there's little resistance, there, which means that both of his hands are meeting up at nanami's collar, working nimbly at the buttons there, running down the length of his shirt.
he's trying--and failing--to think of some kind of smartass remark; it's playing out across his face, a little ghost of mischief, before he gives up on it. more important is the way his hands gently move to tug at nanami's shirttails, pulling them up out of his trousers so that he can finish unbuttoning.
long fingers can't help themselves, fanning out across nanami's toned stomach, dipping beneath the open fabric. )
Why don't you tell me what we're doing here. ( his gaze bats up again, hands blindly sliding down to start to work nanami's belt open. ) In detail, so I don't go too far.
no subject
he's trying--and failing--to think of some kind of smartass remark; it's playing out across his face, a little ghost of mischief, before he gives up on it. more important is the way his hands gently move to tug at nanami's shirttails, pulling them up out of his trousers so that he can finish unbuttoning.
long fingers can't help themselves, fanning out across nanami's toned stomach, dipping beneath the open fabric. )
Why don't you tell me what we're doing here. ( his gaze bats up again, hands blindly sliding down to start to work nanami's belt open. ) In detail, so I don't go too far.