（ he feels more than sees it, the narrowing of that focus like the apex of light in a pinhole camara that inverts the visible world. that inversion is still present in him when sasuke slings a leg over him and settles across his hips, a deliberate shift that slots his dick against the cleft of his ass. there's a heightening of interest that fills out his cock, and he drops a palm down against sasuke's thigh, pushing him in a soft, slow grind that's almost more casually than wilfully intimate.
his eyes, however, are on sasuke's, the contact broken only when the boy looks down and writes a series of characters in hiragana. the sentiment of it does not surprise him. it couldn't, after everything, but his breath does hitch faintly when he realizes what's written. there's something achingly soft in his expression, as if he were a man standing in a childhood home for the last time, knowing that when he steps across the threshold he will never return to all that was loved and lost within those walls.
but still, despite the gesture he still tuts faintly and reaches for sasuke's hand, laving the negligible hurt with his tongue. once he's satisfied, he doesn't quite let him escape — just slips his hand to the boy's wrist, encircling it with his own hand. his index finger and thumb overlap broadly, and even though sasuke is neither small nor delicate — dizzyingly — he seems so in the moment. then the moment is gone, and cy nuzzles in against his palm. ）
no subject
his eyes, however, are on sasuke's, the contact broken only when the boy looks down and writes a series of characters in hiragana. the sentiment of it does not surprise him. it couldn't, after everything, but his breath does hitch faintly when he realizes what's written. there's something achingly soft in his expression, as if he were a man standing in a childhood home for the last time, knowing that when he steps across the threshold he will never return to all that was loved and lost within those walls.
but still, despite the gesture he still tuts faintly and reaches for sasuke's hand, laving the negligible hurt with his tongue. once he's satisfied, he doesn't quite let him escape — just slips his hand to the boy's wrist, encircling it with his own hand. his index finger and thumb overlap broadly, and even though sasuke is neither small nor delicate — dizzyingly — he seems so in the moment. then the moment is gone, and cy nuzzles in against his palm. ）
Tell me about your home.