[Minato is rewarded for his explorations; the skin across Akira's neck, vanishing into the unbuttoned collar of his white undershirt, is flushed a very deep scarlet, radiating heat against those exploring fingertips. another light chuckle tumbles from Akira's lips as he watches his companion rock back, opening himself up-- inviting Akira in further-- with palm dug into the ground and fingers still curled around black locks]
[it's almost too much. it's almost enough to completely steal Akira's breath away, leaving him speechless in the face of someone so. . . so beautiful. as it is, he spends a few moments just staring, eyes darkening with tongue pinched between his lips. any thoughts about how strange or weird this situation may be immediately fly out of the window]
[. . . he suddenly doesn't care. he doesn't care at all!1 the only thing that matters is the young man before him, and the unguarded willingness lining every line of his body language]
Guess it might be. . . [people do tend to reduce physical attraction to "legs" or "tits" or "ass," don't they? honestly, Akira cannot say that he would choose one over the other. but in this moment, it is Minato's legs he wants the most] But I don't care too much about that.
[and there goes the sock, stripped completely from Minato's calf and foot, tossed aside much like the articles of clothing preceding it. the delicate lace and ribbon don't matter. not nearly as much as the exposed skin he now holds in his hand, free for the taking]
. . . I care about you, though.
[is the last thing Akira says before he positions himself on both knees in front of his partner, one hand gliding up across the front of Minato's thighs to hike up the skirt of that dress. the other comes to rest against the back of his knee, propping it up gently so Akira can dip his head and brush warm lips across the skin just above]
[and he lingers. the kiss is gentle, but he lingers, gaze flicking up to watch Minato's expression through tousled bangs, to gauge how much he is enjoying this]
no subject
[it's almost too much. it's almost enough to completely steal Akira's breath away, leaving him speechless in the face of someone so. . . so beautiful. as it is, he spends a few moments just staring, eyes darkening with tongue pinched between his lips. any thoughts about how strange or weird this situation may be immediately fly out of the window]
[. . . he suddenly doesn't care. he doesn't care at all!1 the only thing that matters is the young man before him, and the unguarded willingness lining every line of his body language]
Guess it might be. . . [people do tend to reduce physical attraction to "legs" or "tits" or "ass," don't they? honestly, Akira cannot say that he would choose one over the other. but in this moment, it is Minato's legs he wants the most] But I don't care too much about that.
[and there goes the sock, stripped completely from Minato's calf and foot, tossed aside much like the articles of clothing preceding it. the delicate lace and ribbon don't matter. not nearly as much as the exposed skin he now holds in his hand, free for the taking]
. . . I care about you, though.
[is the last thing Akira says before he positions himself on both knees in front of his partner, one hand gliding up across the front of Minato's thighs to hike up the skirt of that dress. the other comes to rest against the back of his knee, propping it up gently so Akira can dip his head and brush warm lips across the skin just above]
[and he lingers. the kiss is gentle, but he lingers, gaze flicking up to watch Minato's expression through tousled bangs, to gauge how much he is enjoying this]