[ he's pulled close enough to the point where everything is now closer than he knows what to do with, and he freezes, now only dimly aware of everything around him; how he's so close that tsurumaru can feel the warmth that radiates off of him, and if he breathes, he picks up certain scents, of tea and ink and faint kiseru smoke, and all of it makes him dizzy because he's so close, filling his ears with the sound of his own heartbeat and the sounds of those words and what those words mean.

still, even if his embarrassment is blatantly obvious, his cheeks a darker tint of red by now — he likes this, more than he wants to admit. he fumbles for words to say, but finds that none of them will make it right then and there; so instead, he gives hijikata's hand a light squeeze, glancing off towards the side. ]

No, I don't... dislike it at all. [ and for some reason, he adds on the next part, a bit more quietly. ] I think you should do it more often.

[ both the handholding and the... you know. anyway, while not as much as before, tsurumaru's going to attempt to regain some footing. there's a pause of deliberation, and then he bounces back with a wry smile, resuming the teasing sort of tone to his voice. ]

And, if I said that I wanted it to be something else... what would you do? Would you prove to me that there's actually some bite to your bark?

[ listen, ume might be asleep, but she's learning all of this filthy talk in her sleep... goodbye puppy purity. ]