[he feels like a fucking dog with how much his ears perk as Hasebe utters a single, approving sound, and the boy's body continues to tremble -- now, not with fear, but tension, with muscles going tired from their unusual ways of being held and a new weight he doesn't know, of wanting to keep this moment as it is, untainted by moving too quickly]
[patience isn't one of his virtues, but the voice in his ears and at his back slows him, the syrupy description giving him pause, the blade clicking as it shifts in his grip and he watches his a head of hair shifting in the corner of his vision]
Good. [he wonders if he can even feel his breath, where it rests so closely that it's easy to picture a glasgow smile splitting him open -- but as for himself, his lips don't even quirk up]
[the tip of his tongue dips into that groove, tasting steel that has no doubt been saturated in viscera during Hasebe's long wars, but he doesn't want to know, doesn't want to think about that, only wants to think about the way he twists and reacts behind him, where he might feel this -- ]
[in his head? along his spine? somewhere rigid and awakening? his mouth closes over the blunted back of the sword and his teeth drag with a scrape that is nothing like a battle, might be more like cutting down to the bone]
no subject
[patience isn't one of his virtues, but the voice in his ears and at his back slows him, the syrupy description giving him pause, the blade clicking as it shifts in his grip and he watches his a head of hair shifting in the corner of his vision]
Good. [he wonders if he can even feel his breath, where it rests so closely that it's easy to picture a glasgow smile splitting him open -- but as for himself, his lips don't even quirk up]
[the tip of his tongue dips into that groove, tasting steel that has no doubt been saturated in viscera during Hasebe's long wars, but he doesn't want to know, doesn't want to think about that, only wants to think about the way he twists and reacts behind him, where he might feel this -- ]
[in his head? along his spine? somewhere rigid and awakening? his mouth closes over the blunted back of the sword and his teeth drag with a scrape that is nothing like a battle, might be more like cutting down to the bone]
[he does these acts with reverence]