Kit wasn't modest when she'd continued for herself. "Can't you let go of me?" he'd ask her ear, his already satisfied self bloated with both blood and pride when she eventually compressed her breath against his forbidding palm. He had half a mind to have her again for that lovely climax, but that wouldn't be sound, given the odds. Nahoya was fast to worry. She gave him the kind of passion in her disapproval that he was  growing a taste for rapidly, when he undid their firm connection. If she meant to discourage, it did not inspire that in him when she remained as she was, a continued monument to his ego, sitting, panting by the sink as he conversed with his clean brother.<br/><br/>He almost fell to his knees suppressing laughter. Goofing around. She was too perfect. He looked at her in a way that would let her know she was being recorded directly into his available memory when she pushed some after-thought bravado with the old Rei's voice. Did she feel like he would attack her, passing by? "Sleep well, Rei." But he stayed to watch her leave, smelling like both brothers. Kitato was meticulous with the kitchen, after she left. It had some sentimental value to him now, after all.<br/><br/>Naho had discarded the towel, sitting on his side of the frame. His eyes widened somewhat at her dramatic entrance, but softened when she did. He leaned into the peck and followed her like a house dog with his attention. Ears would have been raised if that was a human reaction. A man, like his younger sibling, he read what he wanted in her new tenderness and waited impatiently for her to take her side before crossing. He was wearing his comfortable pajama bottoms, striped, and a version of the shirt she'd picked. His face said 'really?' but his eager assumed her answer.<br/><br/>"I missed you too." he confessed. Her body. Naho had never known an appetite before Rei. She was the entire story of his adventurous self. He loved when she was astride him, and was hoping every night, even though he'd not find the courage or window for himself to initiate. Intimacy was still something mystifying to him. Like it was the universe's duty to lead them to each other's limbs. But he knew to be generous, at least, before and after.<br/><br/>He was also drunk on confidence, after having held his brother's interest. It seemed everyone loved Nahoya tonight. He kissed her shoulder, which wasn't uncommon, but the attitude of his lips was. A bit assumptive, a little pleading. He even placed one on her neck, and he was dizzy with initiative now. Master chef and seducer. "You're too  good to me." he said as his feet went on the floor, and he smiled at her. This particular thing between them wasn't all that rare, him on his knees. They'd talk like this sometimes, when he'd simply look at her.<br/><br/>But tonight it meant a different kind of interaction in his head. She'd let him, even though her eyes were pandering at first. "Can I, tonight?" he asked, and his face wore the pride of assuming her excitement. Brave, manly Nahoya, what have gotten into you? If she was not chokingly forbidding, he'd pull at her panties under his shirt, eager to replace their protection with his tongue, and he'd be awfully delighted by the traces there. "Ah, you really did miss me, didn't you?"<br/><br/>It wasn't hard to love his efforts, even if he was none of his brother's animal. Very little gravity. But that's the downfall with gentleness, even when it hopes to lap you. She'd have to decide whether to stay true to what she'd said to Kitato about happiness, or somehow protect him from debasing himself unknowingly, but suffocating his manliness with a refusal.