( there’s a dreaminess in the murmured admission; he can’t say why either, but that’s simply the case. typically flavor doesn’t have much influence on his kink—for the most part, in his experience, flesh and blood just taste like flesh and blood, though offal and other organs can be a bit different. he had admitted frankly to J that he had started to tire of the taste after having eaten around half of his body; he had resorted to things like soy sauce and ponzu to provide a little more interest in that arena. he isn’t sure if that would be the case with kazuya. could he tire of eating someone who had such bizarre sweetness to their blood?
makoto is tense, and the two are far too close for it to be something he can hide. he waits, and when kazuya answers, his breath catches in his throat. he moves a little bit so he can look up to kazuya rather than hide his face away, brows knitting together as he tries to grapple with the sort of reply to this he’d never even considered he might receive. )
Really? You—even though I… ( he stumbles over his words far more than kazuya did in his explanation, something like three or four or more years’ worth of steadily-accumulating fears and anxieties forming trip-wires in his throat. he blushes fiercely, the tips of his ears burning red-hot.
he tries to find a different way to phrase it that hopefully wouldn’t be received as obvious or annoying. ) I-I just always thought that others would be grossed out by it, though—I didn’t really expect you to want to do it as well. ( his arms tighten around kazuya’s waist. ) I thought I wouldn’t really like it if it were done to me, but… it was really thrilling, and I was really excited when I noticed that you seemed to like it too…
no subject
( there’s a dreaminess in the murmured admission; he can’t say why either, but that’s simply the case. typically flavor doesn’t have much influence on his kink—for the most part, in his experience, flesh and blood just taste like flesh and blood, though offal and other organs can be a bit different. he had admitted frankly to J that he had started to tire of the taste after having eaten around half of his body; he had resorted to things like soy sauce and ponzu to provide a little more interest in that arena. he isn’t sure if that would be the case with kazuya. could he tire of eating someone who had such bizarre sweetness to their blood?
makoto is tense, and the two are far too close for it to be something he can hide. he waits, and when kazuya answers, his breath catches in his throat. he moves a little bit so he can look up to kazuya rather than hide his face away, brows knitting together as he tries to grapple with the sort of reply to this he’d never even considered he might receive. )
Really? You—even though I… ( he stumbles over his words far more than kazuya did in his explanation, something like three or four or more years’ worth of steadily-accumulating fears and anxieties forming trip-wires in his throat. he blushes fiercely, the tips of his ears burning red-hot.
he tries to find a different way to phrase it that hopefully wouldn’t be received as obvious or annoying. ) I-I just always thought that others would be grossed out by it, though—I didn’t really expect you to want to do it as well. ( his arms tighten around kazuya’s waist. ) I thought I wouldn’t really like it if it were done to me, but… it was really thrilling, and I was really excited when I noticed that you seemed to like it too…