[Zhao chuckled softly in response. There was no depreciation within the tone that came directly from the Chinese man's throat. Rather, it was a light-hearted amusement, appreciation for the one-eyed man in front of him. The shyness was always cute when Majima displayed it. The hesitance, the awkward stumble... Zhao found it endearing.
It was not something he expected from the other. It ran discordant to the image he had of the Mad Dog of Shimano. Reconciling the two together was sometimes, often times, hard to do.
He liked this young pup. He couldn't put his finger on one aspect and say why but he knew what he felt was genuine and appreciative. It was nice to see this person, to meet a man in his prime and see the insecurities and the strength both. Not one covering the other or diminishing the other. Simply coexisting. One person, genuine and real.
Zhao took a deep breath and let it out slow as his eyes roamed over Majima's full form. His hand moved on instinct before he had thought things throw, a undeniable draw to the thing which he made a move. And yet at the last minute he caught himself, his hand strayed to another path. His fingertips grazed softly over Majima's face and glided past his chin, down his throat, and slid partially down his chest. He flicked off one of the buttons of Majima's shirt.
Said no words, only stared at Majima with a faint smile tugging at his lips.]
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It was not something he expected from the other. It ran discordant to the image he had of the Mad Dog of Shimano. Reconciling the two together was sometimes, often times, hard to do.
He liked this young pup. He couldn't put his finger on one aspect and say why but he knew what he felt was genuine and appreciative. It was nice to see this person, to meet a man in his prime and see the insecurities and the strength both. Not one covering the other or diminishing the other. Simply coexisting. One person, genuine and real.
Zhao took a deep breath and let it out slow as his eyes roamed over Majima's full form. His hand moved on instinct before he had thought things throw, a undeniable draw to the thing which he made a move. And yet at the last minute he caught himself, his hand strayed to another path. His fingertips grazed softly over Majima's face and glided past his chin, down his throat, and slid partially down his chest. He flicked off one of the buttons of Majima's shirt.
Said no words, only stared at Majima with a faint smile tugging at his lips.]