no subject

[Mukuro's words coincide right as Chikusa pulled up the dress to his chest, one arm wrapped around it and fingers curled gently into the fabric to hold it in place. The back was still completely bared open, the opening brushing against the back of his arms and keeping the bumps of his spine exposed to the cool art. The look was deceptively delicate with that alone. Add in the wispy flow of the dress around his bare legs, and he made a sight.]

[None of that really mattered to Chiksa. What mattered was that order, the way it drew him closer without the slightest hesitation using long obedient strides. Whether Mukuro would seal the outfit in place or tear the fragile garment off, there'd be no complaint from him.]