he draws back the swatted hand, holding it up to his face, not a one of those statements enough to make takasugi flinch. if anything, the red on rinne's face and the little white lies are making him a bit easier to read. he's got to be overwhelmed, or deeply touched by what little reception they received, especially considering that comment he made quietly as they let the audience's waning energy wash over them.
right. he doesn't flinch at all, until a scent that isn't his makes his skin prickle.
it must've transferred when takasugi rubbed the back of his palm against him, this scent. as the pleasure of it warms his blood, he pauses awkwardly to take it in. to which, it... really does smell good, this particular musk of rinne's. not that he'll comment on it any. he can hold it in, even as a heat spreads down his belly and he feels a sudden strange urge to shove rinne over into the grass. at least, for now. )
Giving the cold shoulder to your first fan? Hey, it's totally fine to admit you had a good time. No need to feel embarrassed about it. Thinking on it, I really should've lugged Mini Arahabaki out here to record us. Lack of foresight on my part. Though, judging by the audience reaction, they might've taken matters into their own hands. Who knows. We might hear some gossip later about how a couple innocent citizens were accosted by a couple fox-men.
( negging rinne is a good distraction, as he refastens the scraped shamisen. and because he can't resist, heady with the smell of everything blooming and of all that sweat: )
You sure love to comment on how gorgeous I am all the time, don't you?
no subject
he draws back the swatted hand, holding it up to his face, not a one of those statements enough to make takasugi flinch. if anything, the red on rinne's face and the little white lies are making him a bit easier to read. he's got to be overwhelmed, or deeply touched by what little reception they received, especially considering that comment he made quietly as they let the audience's waning energy wash over them.
right. he doesn't flinch at all, until a scent that isn't his makes his skin prickle.
it must've transferred when takasugi rubbed the back of his palm against him, this scent. as the pleasure of it warms his blood, he pauses awkwardly to take it in. to which, it... really does smell good, this particular musk of rinne's. not that he'll comment on it any. he can hold it in, even as a heat spreads down his belly and he feels a sudden strange urge to shove rinne over into the grass. at least, for now. )
Giving the cold shoulder to your first fan? Hey, it's totally fine to admit you had a good time. No need to feel embarrassed about it. Thinking on it, I really should've lugged Mini Arahabaki out here to record us. Lack of foresight on my part. Though, judging by the audience reaction, they might've taken matters into their own hands. Who knows. We might hear some gossip later about how a couple innocent citizens were accosted by a couple fox-men.
( negging rinne is a good distraction, as he refastens the scraped shamisen. and because he can't resist, heady with the smell of everything blooming and of all that sweat: )
You sure love to comment on how gorgeous I am all the time, don't you?