[ He already knows Rin is hot -- he would have known that even without having seen her naked before. Rin is hot even clothed, after all. With that build and that face, she's almost unbearably hot so long as she's not bitching on and on about something or the other. And now, with the way his thoughts feel hazy from this stupid game -- he almost can't handle the sight of her undressing. Fuuta's movements end up slowing, and he finds himself freezing awkwardly bent over with his sweatpants pulled down to his knees, so he can better stare at Rin slipping out of her clothes.
The sight alone has his stomach clenching tight with desire. Then the shift and slide of fabric out of the way sends a fresh wave of her pheromones washing over him, and Fuuta's knees almost give out from under him; he does end up wobbling awkwardly in place, and it's only the threat of spilling gracelessly over the floor that has him hurriedly regaining his balancing and shucking off his sweatpants. It's just his boxers covering him now, the front tented over his obvious erection, and Fuuta straightens up with a stifled grunt when Rin approaches.
He's quick to blush by default, but his face is definitely a shade or two pinker than usual when Rin's fingertips brush over his cheek. Fuuta can barely bring himself to meet her eyes for a moment before his eyes skip nervously downward, words jittery to match his twitchy gaze. ]
You probably would have been fine? Even if it wasn't me? [ -- wait. Saying that feels bad, actually. Fuuta inhales sharply as his gaze tracks over her collarbone, the gentle curve of her breasts, her flat stomach. ] But ... yeah. Guess it works out. That I ran into you for this stupid g --
[ And then he can't help the way his brain grinds to a halt when his gaze slides down over the front of her underwear. Which ... uh. Sure is more shapely that he remembers? Though he hardly seems scared or disgusted, Fuuta does look confused, visible eye wide when he gives a blink, staring hard at the stretch of fabric over the front of Rin's groin ... even as his face flushes even hotter, lips parting as his breaths growing shallower. Even with his visible confusion, everything else about his body language telegraphs want. ]
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The sight alone has his stomach clenching tight with desire. Then the shift and slide of fabric out of the way sends a fresh wave of her pheromones washing over him, and Fuuta's knees almost give out from under him; he does end up wobbling awkwardly in place, and it's only the threat of spilling gracelessly over the floor that has him hurriedly regaining his balancing and shucking off his sweatpants. It's just his boxers covering him now, the front tented over his obvious erection, and Fuuta straightens up with a stifled grunt when Rin approaches.
He's quick to blush by default, but his face is definitely a shade or two pinker than usual when Rin's fingertips brush over his cheek. Fuuta can barely bring himself to meet her eyes for a moment before his eyes skip nervously downward, words jittery to match his twitchy gaze. ]
You probably would have been fine? Even if it wasn't me? [ -- wait. Saying that feels bad, actually. Fuuta inhales sharply as his gaze tracks over her collarbone, the gentle curve of her breasts, her flat stomach. ] But ... yeah. Guess it works out. That I ran into you for this stupid g --
[ And then he can't help the way his brain grinds to a halt when his gaze slides down over the front of her underwear. Which ... uh. Sure is more shapely that he remembers? Though he hardly seems scared or disgusted, Fuuta does look confused, visible eye wide when he gives a blink, staring hard at the stretch of fabric over the front of Rin's groin ... even as his face flushes even hotter, lips parting as his breaths growing shallower. Even with his visible confusion, everything else about his body language telegraphs want. ]