[ he's so perfect and pale and pretty under him, skin flushed and nipples pointed up just begging for attention; he can feel Satoru's cock nestled up against his own and growing thicker with need. those jeans do indeed leave so little room to the imagination or for the taking, his kimono much more forgiving... not that he's making use of it when Gojou's forcing a soft groan at him with his kiss. ]

[ there's the flavor of sake still on his tongue, too. kissing Gojou practically drives him dizzy, sucking on the curious invasion of his tongue. it sends him driving his hips down again, eager to prove Gojou's words true. ]

[ he still laughs at them. oh, that's just like Satoru.... ]

I am. I just think we need to make some rules. [ Suguru knows his aversion to the word... but the clicking teeth of his jeans fly going down hopes to interrupt his complainants, fingers pulling open and peeling denim flaps apart as far as they will go. ] The kind of rules you'll enjoy.

[ fingers dig in; Satoru's cock is hot and turgid in his hand. a few shifts of fabric and his own joins it, pressing them together with his surging hips, his large fist wrapped around — stroking them both with a sweet little sigh of relief. ]

Things like... you aren't allowed to touch yourself— [ an emphatic squeeze, ] —without thinking of me.