[ fyodor touches as if this is but a fleeting thing; a moment that will not last long because it will be taken by someone else but he also doesn't touch in a starved manner. the way he sets his fingers along chuuya's jaw, into his hair is worshipful and possessive, but also careful. everything he commits to memory. ] I suppose nothing is wrong with this place if you want to get technical about it.

[ he leans into the touches of chuuya's lips: ] And only a fool would be ashamed to be seen with you. [ to bear witness to having chuuya's attention.

the nip causes fyodor to sigh, lean into it as even such a light touch causes red to bloom across his pale skin. the fingers on the small of chuuya's back curl around his shirt in return. fyodor's control is formidable even if he's indulging himself. ]