[ The affection Ritsuka is searching for is there in spades as Soubi kisses him softly, almost reverently. It's strangely cozy, pressed close together like this--Ritsuka's small body is almost as warm as his mouth, as his tongue, when Soubi slides his own against it, lures it into responding. As new and strange as these sensations must be to Ritsuka, they're almost as novel for Soubi, what with an underlying tenderness he's not used to.
That small noise--whatever it is--causes Soubi to gather Ritsuka just a little closer, to run the tip of his tongue slowly along the roof of Ritsuka's mouth, and to give a light sigh of his own, glad of and reassured in the fact that Ritsuka is holding as tightly to him as he is to Ritsuka, his hand sliding from his cheek to the back of his neck, long artist's fingers combing gently through soft black hair. He notices when the wall behind him suddenly isn't there, but he doesn't break the kiss. ]