( he's not prey, but he's being guided like a pet--like a dog on a leash, or perhaps more accurately, like a snake held between pinchers, outstretched at a distance, wary of poison fangs. his chin lifts, steady, above gojou's hand, but it's only another moment of this, walked through the room, before their weights twist; he's used to fighting, used to combat, used to weaving himself around with ease, just as gojou is: he's just not used to being shoved onto a bed, knees buckling as his weight teeters and he hits the mattress. in complaint, the springs wheeze beneath his weight; he only has enough time to dig his elbows in and shift himself up to lay properly before he has sudden company.

he should have expected this. should have expected it from the beginning, rather than tensing up for some kind of battle of pride--but he's completely out of his depths, here, feeling his own heart beat, feeling gojou's heart beat, feeling his breath, his touch, the weight of strong muscle and slim hips and long arms and legs draped all over him.

his head sinks back into the pillows, and he tries to stare up at the ceiling. he knows gojou's looking at him like a cat that's got the cream. )

Moving...? ( he parses it with a huff of breath, disgruntled--mostly because he's caught off-guard. sure, he'd heard that their lodgings here would be temporary, but he hadn't given it much thought. mostly because he's never really had to think about where to stay, before: with kenjaku and company, space had been provided, and after that, he'd just tagged along with everyone else.

a small swallow, as he closes his eyes. )

'We'. ( what kind of place we should look for. of course he'd get roped into this. but if he's going to make good on his personal pledge to look out for gojou, what else is he to do? )

...Somewhere with grass. A garden. Somewhere to put plants.

( his hands slide down, palming over gojou's upper arms before he stops himself. ) Somewhere with sun. Windows. You'd want that too.