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Summary
From his position on the floor, Langa’s gaze moves up, and up, and up, taking in the man’s long, strong form in an immaculately pressed and form-fitting suit. His hair is styled back, and there’s just the slightest touch of gray in his neatly trimmed sideburns. He sees the instant the man notices his presence, meeting his sharp, molten eyes that look almost red in the light.
“Sorry, Ainosuke. It seems Reki told Langa he could stay for the weekend.”
“Well, that’s no problem at all,” the man says genially. His gaze hasn't moved from Langa. “Reki’s friends are always welcome.”