（ once he's tidied sasuke up to his satisfaction, mouthed at his softened cock and licked the saltbitter taste of come from wherever it was smeared or smudged, he lets himself be hauled into a sort-of embrace, letting their limbs tangle up as he drapes himself along sasuke's side. he's still fully clothed and abruptly doesn't want to be — he could use the void, but instead he hauls his shirt off over his head with a disarming wriggle out of sasuke's reaching radius, and then kicks his pants off with equally as little ceremony. the articles are shucked to the floor, and then he returns to his prior position.

skin-on-skin contact is almost a panacea — he sinks into it with a contented murmur of noise. clearly, he is fine to take a break and just luxuriate in some good ol' fashioned cuddling. ）

S'called subspace. It's when endorphins and adrenaline sort of hit a sweet spot in your brain and everything but the moment falls away. For a lot of people it's the aim of a scene. （ softly, ） Takes a lot of trust.

（ not always. not with everyone. but people like them — yeah. ）