It stretches out like that, making out in a way that was almost disturbingly calm for them. No blood, no lashings, no biting words or anything else. Kaito works the kiss deeper, perfectly aware of just how it was with Sora's oxygen constantly running on low, and gradually dwindling still more. When Kaito begins to feel his dying cigarette warming the backs of his knuckles, he casually causes the butt away and yanks on the leash around Sora's neck, cutting off his air completely, and breaks the kiss.

There's a pause, and Kaito meets Sora's eyes, then flick over his face and down. Gauging. One finger is still trapped beneath the collar, against Sora's skin, and was beginning to turn a pale blue, but Kaito ignores it and presses the thumb of that hand against the base of Sora's windpipe. Just a touch, the whip was already doing the work. Shifting, Kaito leans over to position his mouth near Sora's ear.

"Now, wait." His voice is soft and controlled and faintly interested. "If you think you can, Wind King."