[The answer is no, he absolutely doesn’t save for anything that might be found in Mukuro’s own ridiculous hoard of outfits. Which, don’t get him wrong, had been something he’d considered asking permission to look through if worst came to worst.]
[But the word doesn’t even have a chance to leave his mouth before Mukuro is making him moan and sink against his lips. His hips twitch up into his master’s touch as he’s stroked, eager for the contact. There’s no way Chikusa can deny him. He certainly doesn’t want to. It’s apparent in how his hand fists into Mukuro’s shirt, and he dips his other down around the curve of his ass.]
no subject
[The answer is no, he absolutely doesn’t save for anything that might be found in Mukuro’s own ridiculous hoard of outfits. Which, don’t get him wrong, had been something he’d considered asking permission to look through if worst came to worst.]
[But the word doesn’t even have a chance to leave his mouth before Mukuro is making him moan and sink against his lips. His hips twitch up into his master’s touch as he’s stroked, eager for the contact. There’s no way Chikusa can deny him. He certainly doesn’t want to. It’s apparent in how his hand fists into Mukuro’s shirt, and he dips his other down around the curve of his ass.]