Lips parted to exhale a long, muted sigh.

Nothing helped. Among the silky darkness covering his vision, the silence formed between the two, strong and hot breath against skin, nothing seemed good enough to follow. Minutes ago, Chikage had come with such an idea to help him get a little better in fights, but Mikado thought that put that fabric under his eyes wasn't something done with good intentions. Not that his proposal was well-intentioned… Well… Coming from that man, he knew he couldn't expect anything normal.

He could remove it, yet didn't.

It was as if the unknown cheered, excited him to the point of having to hide the smirk that grew on his face. He wouldn't walk up to the man and ask something like that, but didn't deny when asked - and not just for education. Besides, the Toramaru's leader didn't help on this subject either.

"I'm not sure how this will help me…"

Mikado stated, squirming a bit when feeling the man's palm sliding over his thigh, eyes squeezing even if capped. He felt himself sinking more and more on the comfortable couch, the dangerous path.

"In many ways. For example, do you know with which hand I'm touching you right now? Where will I touch next?"

And everything was too pleasant for the man, having the boy beneath him, ready for anything he did, glad for anything he could do. Chikage wasn't the kind of person who just did things quickly to get done soon— He would wait until could draw all kind of good expressions from the other, to have Mikado moaning and asking him when would be the next time with a smile painting his lips.

"Well, uh… That's your right hand, and I have no idea what you're going to do next. I-I don't really think you need to understand fighting to know this, I thought these things happened only on mang—!"

His speech was swollen by Rokujo's lips, that claimed his calmly at first - soon biting it down to gain fully access of his mouth, savoring the sweet flavor of the soda the teen drank before it started. The darkness didn't help, making the feeling of those fingers against cloth roam all over his body, the man's scent of perfume invade his lungs and savvy tongue entwine with his; everything served right to leave the boy in a beautiful mess when Chikage gave him a pause, kissing his cheeks and jaw and neck and everything else instead. Every time he gave the teenager a mark on the pale skin took the opportunity to steal more kisses, leaving him way breathless than before.

And that left the boy so distracted that didn't realized when that hand on his tight moved for belt, undoing it. Actually, it wouldn't be noticed if it wasn't for the heavy 'clang' against the floor, increased thanks to his keen hearing - and he could felt cheeks burning from the hand that continued, opening his zipper and slightly lowering his pants at once.

"C-Chikage-san…"

The kisses, bites and sucks never stopped, causing the boy of doing nothing against it, just accepting the increase of temperature, the pleasure which overflowed in his veins, the arousing making the tips of his body get icy and hot at the same time. The way he grabbed his—

"A-Ah!"

He wanted to have covered his face with his hand, but the elder was already holding his wrists above his head. When he did this? How was he positioned exactly? That blindfold wasn't just making him blind, but also slower, for what it seemed. Yet no less enjoyable.

"Chikage-san…"

"Shh. I will make you feel good."

His hand circled the base, massaging slowly to the tip, picking up his own rhythm gradually. It wasn't like he was very experienced in that, and what helped him was the fact that the boy wasn't either. Sounds began to form deep in his throat as the heat in his belly grew, Mikado finding them higher than they should really be, cold sweat started flowing on his neck, and sometimes the redhead suddenly stopped his movements just to provoke, or to hear a 'no' or 'more please'.

He wanted more.

Chikage's fingers gripped the tip of his member before distancing themselves and continue with the pace, starting to move faster, unlike his lips that stopped in just his mouth, covering every moan that embarrassed the leader of the Dollars too much. He wanted more, wanted that sinful mouth to completely devour him, the grip on his wrists to broke them and drip as poison, that hand to free him of that feeling that was so close, so close but still not enough. If a few moments ago he didn't know what to expect, now everything he wanted was more - to have, to feel, to see—

Of course.

At the come of his bliss, the cloth was withdrawn from his eyes, only to show a wide, contented smirk upon him.

And even on the completely messed up state he was, he smiled back.