( he whimpers, half-feverish and half-conscious, as wataru seems to pull out, squeezing his legs like he means to forbid it. but wataru relaxes him— the little nibbles should scare him, should make him alarmed in the memory of something unwelcome, but they don't; he finds a soothing sort of rhythm to the way wataru tugs and sucks at his skin, the same way he likes the way wataru's tentacles feel (a little bit silly, a little gentle and charming) against his wings, and both both sensations pair to make him melt, relaxed against him, very much like putty. (it's the cooler water, ironically, that keeps his temperature a little better balanced.)

a low, pleasant sort of whine escapes him when his awareness slowly floods the rosy warmth inside his head again, more of wataru pushing inside him causing his wings to stiffen— and then relax again, sinking flat against the water, fanning out in anticipation. ah, ah, )

... P-push... ( he exhales, turning his nose into the crook of wataru's neck, dragging his warm lips against it, ) ... Push in deeper, where you were before, it's— ( painful ) —it's wonderful, you're wonderful, Wataru... ♪

( wataru had said he'd loved eichi's voice, but eichi thinks he's come to love wataru's; the way he says love, love, the way it sounds against his ear and makes him shiver, the way he talks when he holds him, brushes his hands through his hair—

wataru in him felt wonderful, but eichi thinks maybe this is just as nice, or maybe even better. fortunately, nothing's asking him to choose. )

I like it... Mmh, I love it, how you feel in me... ♪ I love your pretty colors; the way you feel around me ♪ ( ah - mm, he rests his weight a little heavier on him to help the tentacles get easier in, tired but willing still. his stomach presses light against wataru's own- eichi's a little warmer than even the rest of his body. ) I'll sing only for you, Wataru, Wataru, Wataru... ♪