Heizou stretches languidly on the bed, still barely awake. He lets out a low, satisfied moan followed by a contented sigh before he relaxes again. His body is stiff and aching from the previous night's escapades, echoes of Itto's hands and mouth covering what feels like every inch of him.
When did he last sleep so well?? He doesn't even remember dreaming. Was it exhaustion from the sex or was it Itto's strong arms around him??
Speaking of Itto... Heizou rolls over and there he is. He flops back down, almost faceplanting onto the Oni's chest and fully intending to go back to sleep there. Unless, of course, Itto has other plans.
Wait, wait, where the fuck am-- Oh.
It took moment for Itto to calm the brief jolt of panic that arose in his breast, the innate claustrophobia he felt about being contained in four walls and beneath a roof taking several moments to calm. Even after all that time, aside from maybe Onibaba's home, and that could be considered a stretch. The Oni was jolted from his sleep on the futon, narrowly halted from bolting upright by the sound of Heizou's mewl that elicited a different kind of shiver from him, even if it mingled sickly in him. Yet, the more longer he forced himself to remain on the futon and beneath the sheets, ramrod and stiff as he was, the sooner the events of the last night trickled into his mind.
...And, predictably, it was debauched as hell.
Although he was about to launch into a sunny spiel to mask his discomfort when Heizou cuddled closer into his broad chest, Itto deflated in relief when the detective fell back asleep with nary a word, evidence if the Oni's handiwork splotching the man's skin in spades. Not that he particularly minded, but on the topic of escaping what felt like a cage, well--
Ugh, later. It was all in his head, anyways!
