Suguru’s hand is placed around your shoulder, and it travels to your back, slowly rubbing up and down your spine. He leans in, resting his cheek near your ear.

“Whoever you’re eyeing is a lucky bastard. If I was him,” Suguru whispers, his mouth so close that his lips brush your earlobe, “I’d kiss you right now.”

He brings the other hand to your cheek, his thumb tracing over your bottom lip.

“Is that so?” You chuckle, looking up at him.

“Mhmm.” He hums, his breath hitching when you giggle. “I would kiss you slowly…”

Suguru’s mouth travels across your jawline, leaving kisses in its wake. He pauses right by your ear. “I’d kiss you until your legs were too weak to hold you up. Then, I’d press you into the first flat surface I was able to,” he murmurs against your skin, “And I’d keep going until you forgot your own name."

"And when you were about to pass out from exhaustion,” he continues, his hand moving from your cheek to the back of your neck and squeezing slightly, “I’d ask a very important question.”

“What would that be?” You breathe, your own hand gripping at his shirt. He can feel your body almost shaking with anticipation.

“If you’d finally stop screwing around,” Suguru says, his mouth moving closer to yours, “And just ask for what you want…”

His lips ghost against your cheek, “Instead of trying to drown your feelings in alcohol, when I’m right here…” 

He lets the words sink in for a moment. “I’m right here,” he repeats in a whisper, “And I refuse to keep doing this stupid dancing-around-each-other bullshit."