[ the purple color shifts to a warmer, eichi's lips close and soft, when the tentacle reaches out to trace them. wataru's hands, too, trace, the curve of eichi's hip when he leans forward. ]

"Of sorts"...? [ he tilts his head, another tentacle happy to trail up his leg, sliding beneath the chemise again. it's a motion completed thoughtlessly, the tentacles having a mind of their own—or at least one linked closer to his most basic instincts, that go well with the strong beating of his heart against his chest, his fascination with the bird— no, angel in front of him. ] We're already playmates! Is there something closer?

[ a genuine question, even as the tentacle beneath his chemise prods what it can wrap around before trailing to his entrance instead, pressing flat against it. probably feels a little weird, given the suckers; for wataru, too, it's a strange sensation, and the color of his skin—lower half, not the human part—flushes a small myriad of rainbow before it settles again.

If there is, [ he whispers, ] then yes! I'd like to be. You're different...♪ It's interesting...♪