[ the shivery quality of those words douses gasoline on the firepit in his belly, but it's his whine that's really rattling around in his head, the honey all over the sticky bait trap. it's irresistible — the perfect, pale column of Sizhui's neck. there's very little warning when Getou's other arm wraps around a more slender torso and holds him captively still as his jaw tilts... and his teeth sink. ]

[ the lovebite doesn't break skin, but it's enough to jolt and smart, his lips closing on that fluttering pulse, the lash of tongue and suck enough to leave the skin flushed, hot, chilled, smarting, and sweet. another: softer, suckling the delicate patch of skin just behind his ear. ]

Too uncreative to say "anything your mind can conjure", isn't it? [ this intimate, smoky voice right up against his ear is almost overwhelmed by the trilling, musical white noise all around them, a secret just for Sizhui. and he very much does wonder what this mind could conjure as his lips and teeth graze across the edge of his ear. ] Let's see... at third, we'll move on to another game and resume your torment.

[ this, apparently. this is "torment", the way his hand is oh so gently kneading so low on Sizhui's belly that if it were against skin his fingertips would be fondling black curls. ] Or maybe begin mine. In second place, we'll find something more private.

If you finish in first, [ and his mouth is a smile against Sizhui's neck, because he himself is already laughing at his own words: ] I'll finish in you.

[ and maybe that's the riskiest option. a hedonistic, primal part of him has always taken what it wants when it wants it; giving that animal even a yellow flag is precarious. it's meant to be shrugged off as a titillating joke anyway. ]