( like an insect, drawn towards the sweet smell, he lingers, steps forward, works himself towards the interior of the room like he can't let a certain amount of distance stretch between them; his possessive feelings aren't particularly unusual, given the way that he can easily sink towards obsession with certain things, but to be so blatant about it is new, and feels almost like the feelings tumble out of him before he can even think to pull them back. impatient, he swishes around the end of the bed, hands sliding down into his pockets like that might keep him from reaching out to touch esikko again.

the shirt gets a bemused look of dismay: it's not a bad shirt, but it's definitely something that he thinks esikko would like to see him in, more than he'd like to put on. )

Think about it. We get the ribbon, we fuck around with it, take a bath, order room service, fuck again...

( in a drawling tone, amused--but it isn't his birthday, and he really isn't going to deny esikko anything. in some ways, he thinks that going out might be better, if only because esikko will get the kind of attention he deserves, on a special day, from the staff.

--that, of course, does bother him a little, eyes narrowing at the thought, but he tries to push it down. instead, as he pries out a hand to point, playfully, at the bed: )

So am I wearing just a shirt, now? Where's the bottom part?