( He stills when Gojo grabs his wrist, eyes lifting back up to his face. It's a fact that he wouldn't force it, is already ready to give his friend space before he talks, but there's nothing that suggests his touch is unwelcome and so whatever anxiety had risen easily dissipates again. ) Tch, you wouldn't know shy even if I force-fed you the page from the dictionary.
( Sweet nothings.
But Gojo is kissing his throat then, and if Geto thought he'd get through this with his wits about him than he now knows he's absolutely wrong about that. Already his pulse lifts, skin tingling. His other hand settles on a hip, holding the other man steady, a fine shudder running through him. )
Satoru. ( That old purr amped up. ) What is it?
( Don't think he's lost all his skills of perceptiveness when it comes to his best friend. They've just been rusty. )
no subject
( Sweet nothings.
But Gojo is kissing his throat then, and if Geto thought he'd get through this with his wits about him than he now knows he's absolutely wrong about that. Already his pulse lifts, skin tingling. His other hand settles on a hip, holding the other man steady, a fine shudder running through him. )
Satoru. ( That old purr amped up. ) What is it?
( Don't think he's lost all his skills of perceptiveness when it comes to his best friend. They've just been rusty. )