[ no sooner than Suguru's had the chance to whisper kanpai has Gojou emptied the ochoko and made himself a mistake. the laughter that follows from Suguru is the resigned sort, what comes from living with someone and knowing them almost as well as they know themselves. it's too late to warn him now, so instead he'll just take a sip and put it back on the table, turning to tend the idiot's pride. ]

[ his t-shirt's thin. that's the thought he has as he starts petting his chest, encouraging some of that cough and burn to go away with his own warm, exploratory touch... and after a beat, it occurs to him that he's better off with skin-to-skin contact, and so slips his hand right up the front of his shirt. ]

You're meant to enjoy it slow and savor it. [ these are the words of a lesson, but not the tone of one; Suguru's voice his too low, his eyes too lidded. his fingers don't intentionally brush up against a nipple when he's trying to lecture him, either. ] ...But sometimes I have trouble pacing myself, too.

[ his gaze flickers down and his hand follows it, fingertips caressing over the center of abs, settling at the top button of his jeans... and when he looks back up, gives it a tug, pulling the waist open. ]

Oops. See what I mean? [ bet he's not coughing now. ]