[ The more days he goes without encountering someone in an intimate manner, the darker his suit becomes. One can’t even say it’s been too long since the last, mark below his navel a faint gray at best, and yet his mind has kicked with racing thoughts that inspire the need for movement. So, he walks, wanders aimlessly, ending up deep in the belly of the vale where vines fall in thick curtain.
A familiar scent catches his attention and gives rise to vivid memory that curls an itch in the back of his mind. Not of the sweaty grind and not of the violent choke of throat, but of the soft moment in afterglow when he had laid himself on the body beneath his and had relaxed.
Inspiration that has him draw closer to the source. He hasn’t forgotten the sharp tongue of this exorcist; Rokurou snorts, stepping up behind him and sliding strong forearms down around his neck and over his chest. It feels good, touching, establishing contact, as that sudden urge had promised. ]
no subject
A familiar scent catches his attention and gives rise to vivid memory that curls an itch in the back of his mind. Not of the sweaty grind and not of the violent choke of throat, but of the soft moment in afterglow when he had laid himself on the body beneath his and had relaxed.
Inspiration that has him draw closer to the source. He hasn’t forgotten the sharp tongue of this exorcist; Rokurou snorts, stepping up behind him and sliding strong forearms down around his neck and over his chest. It feels good, touching, establishing contact, as that sudden urge had promised. ]
More what?
[ As if he doesn’t know. ]