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Summary
“Are you going to let your hair grow out?” he asks, his fingertips brushing against the sensitive spot on his neck in a way that causes Takasugi to stop playing the shamisen entirely. “You’ll overlap with Zura in character points.”
Takasugi knows better than to ask what the hell Gintoki means by that.
“No, I just haven’t found the time to cut it,” he admits.
Gintoki moves his hand upwards, combing the hair, almost ruffling it as if he doesn’t want to leave one single lock untouched.
“It’s pretty,” he says, with one of his easy, boyish smiles.
Takasugi coffs at the expression on his face. “Oh, you’re already drunk.”
Series
- Part 3 of written on the body