[There it is, the laugh. It stirs him up warm in the chest under the sting of the marked skin. He doesn't even care that the amusement is at his expensive. If he can get Higekiri to laugh, that's all that matters to him. Being silly, being endearing, being obedient.
A shy, half-mischievous smile manages to touch the edge of his lips, and then it all but vanishes when the sword brushes up by his neck.
The jump in his pulse should be fear, but it isn't. It's excitement. A thrill. He keeps his neck brandished, as if he would be more than willing for Higekiri to slit his throat open, more than willing to let Higekiri cut his neck clean across the middle.
A breath he didn't realize he was holding escapes him. He reaches up to take Higekiri by the head as the lips come down. He consumes them hungrily, his mouth coppery. One leg weasels out from between Higekiri's legs, followed by the other. He drapes both up over Higekiri's waist, squeezing the knees at the bottom of the ribs.]
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A shy, half-mischievous smile manages to touch the edge of his lips, and then it all but vanishes when the sword brushes up by his neck.
The jump in his pulse should be fear, but it isn't. It's excitement. A thrill. He keeps his neck brandished, as if he would be more than willing for Higekiri to slit his throat open, more than willing to let Higekiri cut his neck clean across the middle.
A breath he didn't realize he was holding escapes him. He reaches up to take Higekiri by the head as the lips come down. He consumes them hungrily, his mouth coppery. One leg weasels out from between Higekiri's legs, followed by the other. He drapes both up over Higekiri's waist, squeezing the knees at the bottom of the ribs.]