[Sakusa has always been a sucker for how traditional Ushijima is, and the Japanese sends a thrill down his body, right down to his curling toes. He carefully tips his glass back to match Ushijima's actions, and, though stuttery in movement, his smirk is in place when he lowers his glass.
Sakusa attempts to act the part of ordinary diner, but he's not nearly as good at it as Ushijima. When Sakusa dislike something, it's plain to see. And when Sakusa is focused on getting something, it's plain to see. His eyes burn pure want as he takes a handful of bites, slow and careful enough to focus on chewing and grinding in tandem.]
This isn't bad. Caviar, right?
[Sakusa can try to carry on like nothing's amiss, but he knows both of their minds are focused in one place only, and it isn't the food. He tests the give of Ushijima's grip, massaging Ushijima's dick in deep, slow circles.
In a way, Sakusa has already won what he wants. The pounded fist, the clenched jaw, the muffled grunt. And yet Ushijima still hasn't given in, not in the way Sakusa craves. He won't be pleased until seeing this through.]
You're looking a little tense, Wakatoshi. Something the matter?
[It's just observation, an observation paired with his foot rubbing directly against the leaking head, but it could very well be taken as provocation. Sakusa stills and waits for an answer, anxious to see what Ushijima does without the stimulation.]
no subject
Sakusa attempts to act the part of ordinary diner, but he's not nearly as good at it as Ushijima. When Sakusa dislike something, it's plain to see. And when Sakusa is focused on getting something, it's plain to see. His eyes burn pure want as he takes a handful of bites, slow and careful enough to focus on chewing and grinding in tandem.]
This isn't bad. Caviar, right?
[Sakusa can try to carry on like nothing's amiss, but he knows both of their minds are focused in one place only, and it isn't the food. He tests the give of Ushijima's grip, massaging Ushijima's dick in deep, slow circles.
In a way, Sakusa has already won what he wants. The pounded fist, the clenched jaw, the muffled grunt. And yet Ushijima still hasn't given in, not in the way Sakusa craves. He won't be pleased until seeing this through.]
You're looking a little tense, Wakatoshi. Something the matter?
[It's just observation, an observation paired with his foot rubbing directly against the leaking head, but it could very well be taken as provocation. Sakusa stills and waits for an answer, anxious to see what Ushijima does without the stimulation.]