[Ritsuka's eyes slide slowly closed as Soubi kisses him - wet and warm and gently probing - and his fingers clench in the fabric of Soubi's jacket. These kisses never feel bad exactly, more like something Ritsuka doesn't know how to process.
It's strange, letting Soubi coax his way into the tender warmth of Ritsuka's mouth, past teeth - Ritsuka self-consciously reminds himself not to bite down, even if Soubi might enjoy it - until their tongues meet. Ritsuka is glad Soubi hasn't had a cigarette yet this morning.
He makes a soft sound in response to something Soubi does - he can't identify any individual stroke of Soubi's tongue, which seems to be all over his mouth at once - and opens his mouth a little wider, trying to taste honest affection in the depths of the kiss.]