He nods, biting his lip and scrambling up and off. His hands linger over Haruto's body as he gets up, stroking his palm over the muscles over his ribs and the sides of his waist. He never spent a lot of time thinking about other dude's bodies being beautiful, or anything. Probably on purpose, really... But in the moonlight, he can't describe Haruto as anything less. Though he'd never say it aloud.

When he finally manages to break away, he lunges unsteadily into the tent, flopping onto his side with no grace whatsoever. He stretches his back, covering his face for a moment, before he moves his right hand down to his cock beneath his boxer briefs. The mere memory of Haruto's hand on it a moment ago is electrifying, and he puts his curved forefinger between his teeth as he waits, sucking gently on the knuckle.