[He relaxes, softly and by degrees, as Natsuno talks -- lulled perhaps by the sound of his voice as much as by the words. There's something familiar about the way they echo each other across time and space and all the worlds in between; a pair of mirrors, red and clear, always. A reminder: this is where he wants to be.

Anon doesn't say anything, but with how closely they're entwined right now Natsuno can probably feel it anyway -- the way those last words and the kiss tremor right through him, full-bodied and involuntary the way that promise under the cherry tree did. A moment later he pulls up a little too, but it's quick and short-lived and solely to surge upward to catch Natsuno's lips with his own.

It's clumsy and probably kind of painful with how little control he has right now and the angle, but he's too busy continuing to pepper kisses -- a little in apology, but mostly just a mess of motion as though making up for holding himself back all this time. It's warm between them and still tastes like sake and he's muttering incoherently, bits and pieces of things that are little more than breath because he still hasn't learned not to talk while kissing.

Eventually it all melts into a proper kiss, fierce and lingering and distinctly sweeter than the sake. Words can come later.]