[Fudou was under no illusion that he didn't play a role in putting Sakuma in the state he was in when they first reunited. In fact, there's still a part of him that placed the blame entirely on himself. He'd done it. He hurt Sakuma. He was the one who left him there.
With one arm around his waist securing him so he doesn't slip off, Fudou lowers his head to Sakuma's shoulder and kisses him there, over his clothes, the gesture infinitely more chaste than the wanting, lustful kisses from just moments before.
Sakuma Jirou smiles again, now. His body lacked most of the tension it had before. He was willing to go home, at ease as he did, and had forgiven him and allowed him back into his life. There was no other option for Fudou than to be by him and do whatever he could for him, for all the hardship he'd been through in the past.]
Let's go home, then, [he murmurs against that shoulder, slipping his hand out from under Sakuma's shirt and tucking the fabric back in (though not as neatly as it was earlier).] I'll make dinner, and have you for dessert.
no subject
With one arm around his waist securing him so he doesn't slip off, Fudou lowers his head to Sakuma's shoulder and kisses him there, over his clothes, the gesture infinitely more chaste than the wanting, lustful kisses from just moments before.
Sakuma Jirou smiles again, now. His body lacked most of the tension it had before. He was willing to go home, at ease as he did, and had forgiven him and allowed him back into his life. There was no other option for Fudou than to be by him and do whatever he could for him, for all the hardship he'd been through in the past.]
Let's go home, then, [he murmurs against that shoulder, slipping his hand out from under Sakuma's shirt and tucking the fabric back in (though not as neatly as it was earlier).] I'll make dinner, and have you for dessert.