[ Sinew and muscle tighten and lock, Nishikiyama's voice dying somewhere in his throat. Orgasm floods him in a hard wave; his body relaxes after release. He comes off it. A long moment passes as Mine kisses him. Seems he's someone to lick Nishikiyama's wounds. His own lips follow along tiredly, the earlier desperation he'd felt dispelled and splattered across the other man's stomach. For once, Nishikiyama doesn't think. He just isβ he is whatever the two of them are right now. Yakuza, weren't they? Supposedly, it'd been what they wanted.
It takes him a while to remember. His cock wanes in the other's hand, and his eyes open once more, moving up towards Mine's face to check on him. He doesn't quite pull from him, but his kisses are lazier against Mine's own. Even the taste of tobacco, whose is whose, is hard to distinguish anymore. They just taste like each other now.
Nishikiyama thinks of something to say to Mine: ]
I don't know what's happening anymore. We're both fucking crazy.
no subject
It takes him a while to remember. His cock wanes in the other's hand, and his eyes open once more, moving up towards Mine's face to check on him. He doesn't quite pull from him, but his kisses are lazier against Mine's own. Even the taste of tobacco, whose is whose, is hard to distinguish anymore. They just taste like each other now.
Nishikiyama thinks of something to say to Mine: ]
I don't know what's happening anymore. We're both fucking crazy.
[ All of it complaint without any bite. ]