eijun's head tilts back, resting against the headrest, mouth open and cheeks flushed, hair still thoroughly mussed.

he's altogether too lovely. the warmth koushuu feels bloom in his chest is part anger, but only directed at himself for finding eijun so captivating, for dragging eijun back down with him just because he can't help himself.

one day eijun will stop letting him do that, but until then—