Whereas Sizhui has kissed someone else before, although he's never felt anything like this. He immediately wants more, which confuses half of him, the opposite half overriding that without much effort, regardless of how much he tries to keep his mind from being addled. How is it such a simple thing can make one's thoughts scramble?

Half-lidded eyes blink once, twice, forcing their way open slightly wider on the second motion so he can watch Itto's expression for a moment. It seems as if he's sincerely enjoying the liplock, coaxing the cultivator deeper with his tongue and Sizhui's all too happy to oblige, against his better judgment. There's a breathless gasp when they come apart, the faint trail of spit, heavier panting following that, then Sizhui's eyes are wider, his forehead creased in confusion. Time for us? What does he mean? He's unsure, but what he does know is he doesn't want Itto to pull away anymore.

He slackens, lowers an arm from Itto's chest and lets the man touch his face, astonishment overtaking his features at how gently he caresses him, the way he entices with sweet, honey-tongue words— and Sizhui sinks into the role of wooed partner so easily. His throat works with some effort around the lump there, he reaches with his other hand to hook Itto's wrist, keeping that hand against his face as he locks eyes with the oni. “No,” he strains at first, softly clearing his throat before attempting again, “No, I don't want that. To share you.” How does he have the right to say that? It doesn't feel like he should, and yet there it is, coupled with Sizhui trying to press closer in an attempt to reach Itto's lips. “You would choose me to fill such an important role?”