He tried not to hear them on most days, but their little scene today was interesting to him. Kitato was done with avoiding the opportunities of this house. The guilt he'd felt was transferred onto the woman now, and he was elated for it. He'd been designed to be free, with that rambunctious heart of his. With some new focus, he could translate the muffled things through the wall easily. He particularly loved her monologue. It was breakfast for his ego, that his actions stayed with her when Naho didn't.<br/><br/>He'd not let the opportunity go to waste, and let her walk her infinitesimal steps by his door. She didn't suspected his intentions because she was still pretending, somewhat. Nahoya had the radio on in the kitchen, and Kit also listened to the stove as it came alive. At least for now, the older brother was busy. And the more leisurely minded boy could slip in to the bathroom while Rei's preferred temperature was starting to build milk on the mirrors. She likely wouldn't hear the door close or when essentially clean shorts landed in the wicker basket. When he slipped in, she was thinking of herself in a dark light, and it took her a moment to register the additional body nestled in the steam with her.<br/><br/>"You have to be thorough." he said and waited for her to be all manner of alarmed. She couldn't really scream, and his finger pressing both his lips reminded her of that, if she forgot. Kitato was a bit of a god with her, now, retaining all the shadows between his long muscles that handsome but softer Naho had lost to complacence, perhaps like he'd also lost her, in a way. It was already greeting her a little, alert but not entirely vulgar, which flattered its own, swinging size as he came close enough to snatch up her towel. A man like a deer, and like a beast.<br/><br/>"I'm the only one who knows exactly where to clean you." as though she needed his merits. This heat was much more pleasant than the frustrating layers of sweat, even though both had their charms. This was homely, safe, and private. How many times had he used this space and tried not to think of her, while still smelling her products when the hot water warmed the ceramic designs? Another daydream. He had the cloth and wiped himself with it once, as though to make it right, to clean it of its cleanliness, touching it to the length she'd adored reluctantly.<br/><br/>And then he bent to start below her knee and lather on his way up her thigh, the water collecting in his valleys. He ignored it when it ran over his face as he looked up at Rei. He seemed remarkably reasonable, if she forgot about trying to reject him. Like this was their oasis. That slight smirk said it knew what she wanted, anyway, by the time he'd drawn half a circle around her triangle, to scrub her stomach and lift the cloth toward one of her orbs.<br/><br/>Naho had seen himself in the metal of the sink, and admired the face a few seconds, but when he touched the chin he realized he had to let the rice cook by itself. He made sure the kitchen was safe and doing its own work before he hurried to the bathroom, wondering if at least the mirror in the cabinet would still be steam free. A man like Nahoya would have a few home-body tricks to get a reflection, anyway. There were other tricks taking place in the chamber.