Flushed cheeks, clothes discarded, little tongue -- pink, which was red but not quite-- darting out to lap at the redenned mark on tanned skin, a curious little noise passing through the pinken lips. Hands shifted, red-tipped nails dragging down the soft planes of the boy's back and he was granted another noise from the tiny one atop of him.
"Hmm" a curious noise of his own, neat nails trailing, stroking, feeling the boy's soft sides and, fingertips wandering to pet his stomach, feel his chest, play with everything the pliant body had to offer. And the boy obliged, frame twisting, body reddening according to where his lover's lips touched, or in some cases where his lover's lips didn't touch, his kiss-bruised lips parting to let Marluxia know exactly how vibrant colors suddenly seemed, how bright the stars looked when he closed his eyes, how much he loved him.