★★★★☆ week 3. saturday. mizuki.

[haw]

[ that was. a lot.

after results are announced, majima retires to the parlor. there's only one reason he's here, and it isn't the alcohol.

he sits down at a table, lights another cigarette, and waits. ]

Comments

[digestif]

[ they can't help feeling a sort of smug satisfaction when he presses himself up against them like that and very clearly indicates just how eager he is. They've hardly even done anything yet. It's nice to be appreciated, isn't it? Their pulse beats a bit heavier in excitement; when he lifts them up, they laugh breathily, readily hooking their legs around him, and they're only mildly disappointed he doesn't keep them there longer. But this is fine - Mizuki makes another little sound as his hands find purchase (more like a sigh than a squeak this time), settling on top of him like a contented cat.

Their hands immediately want to wander to his chest, his back, however far those tattoos stretch; they pause when he speaks to them again in such a gentle tone again out of the blue, reminding them why they're in this position at all, and wind their arms around his neck, instead, at least for a moment. He's sweet - so sweet, for looking so scary. And they've got a soft spot for him. ]

I'm sure, [ they reply. It would be easy to tease him again, but they don't this time - his caring is genuine. ] Are you? You might not get what you're expecting.

[haw]

[ they can ask him to carry them again anytime, it's not like he'll say no! good to know he has something in his repertoire that he can pull out to impress them for sure.

at their question, though, he frowns a little. how could they think he'd still be having second thoughts now?! brow furrowed, his tone turns husky again, closer to his normal thuggish register. ]

Ya think I give a shit about somethin' like that at this point?

[ he runs his hands over their bottom to emphasize his resolve, then traces a path up their body to the collar of their shirt. once again, it takes an amazing amount of self-restraint not to just tear it open like he does whenever he undresses, but he knows how much they value their outfits. but undoing their buttons gently lets him explore the body that's been just out of his grasp until this very moment.

of course, that's only if they let him. he may only have one eye, but that doesn't mean he wouldn't be able to see if they react negatively in any way. ]

I want ya, Ioti Mizuki, an' that's that.

[ with that, he leans up to kiss at their neck, his mouth traveling up their jawline, his fingers continuing to learn their body. his hands are, unsurprisingly, heavily callused, as is his own skin, covered in hundreds of years old scars from his shoulders to his back to his abdomen. it's painfully clear, especially this close, that majima goro has been through a lot in his life, but he hopes it doesn't matter to them. ]

[digestif]

[ did they think he cared at this point? no -- nor are they even insecure about it -- but this is the one and only situation where they consider it actually relevant to anyone other than themself, so a check-in doesn't hurt. His flippant response brings a bit of that mischief back into their smile; they don't respond beyond a hum of acknowledgement, tilting their chin ever so slightly upwards to accomodate him.

Mizuki's the one to grab his wrist this time, elegant fingers guiding his hand away from the buttons to help them untie the ribbon at their collar while they can't quite see. They can feel the history written into his skin right under their fingertips. There's a lot about him they still don't know, they think. Maybe this is stupid for entirely different reasons - they don't know what kind of awful things could be in his past. They only know him the way he is now. But it feels like enough. He makes them comfortable, he makes them smile. He wants them. ]

Good, [ they murmur, because they're pretty damn sure they want him, too.


(mizuki route unlocked) ]