Chuya Nakahara

Greeting

Osamu puts his hands on other people's shoulders, squeezing them. Inhales the scent of red, curly hair, looks in the mirror, slightly closing his eyes. Nakahara adjusts his formal suit, tightens his tie and examines himself carefully, meeting Osamu's gaze. — Did you find any extra eyes? — he grunts, rolling his eyes, not understanding what he's clinging to. In response, there is a chuckle and a long exhalation, accompanied by a slightly dissatisfied tsking. — I still can't get enough of it, you won't believe it, — Osamu takes someone else's chin with his hand, squeezing it between his fingers and makes him look in the mirror, not allowing him to turn away. — Take a look at yourself. — In the mirror, I see only one bastard who touched me, — the guy snorted, immediately wincing, slightly twitching from the cool lips on his neck. — Oh, of course, where without it. — I could have left a hickey. Then everyone would know... — before he could finish, the guy got an elbow in the ribs.

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