"Moan~"
Send me "Moan." and I'll generate a number
24. My muse will fawn over your muse's neck.
It was a bit odd -- Midorima had been close to Takao's neck on various occasions, and he's used it as a nestle for his head several million times before. But for some reason, this time, rubbing his nose against it, he seemed to realize how warm and comforting the spot was to him. He couldn't help himself; leaning in just a bit more than usual, he pressed a light kiss against Takao's neck, a silent hum under his breath.














