It figures that Shuuhei couldn't even manage to put decent compulsion behind his statement, but… at least Kensei seems interested? As Kensei's hand travels up his arm, Shuuhei lightly sucks in a breath as anticipation skitters ahead of Kensei's touch. By the time that hand is at his throat, Shuuhei think he might be the one liable to obey any command that might proceed from Kensei's mouth at that moment. Which is why, when Kensei tells him to speak more clearly, Shuuhei doesn't hesitate this time.
"Mark me. I want for anyone who looks at me to know I'm yours." He bites his lip momentarily. "The neck is probably best for that, but I want you to pick the spot."
--- But that is always the way, though, isn't it? Kensei grunting or barking some orders, and Shuuhei diligently following them. That has been the division of labour in their work and their relationship both. This instance, though, breeds opportunity for Shuuhei to walk along the other side of that equation for once. And yet it does not surprise Kensei that he does not truly take that opportunity. Still, Kensei is already minorly impressed by the more firm tone Shuuhei takes the second time.
"That so..?" He says, not really asks, his tone lilting towards amusement. I want you to pick the spot, Shuuhei says. That still leaves quite some freedom in his hands. His thumb slides along the brunet's jawline once more, as though contemplating. Deep brown eyes follow the vertical and horizontal lines upon his partner's face. A few jagged, and organic, and one stark and neat. He barely remembers what Shuuhei looked like without them, when he met him.
His free hand moves, hooking fingers into the other's obi to pull him closer, toe to toe. Like this, Shuuhei's greater height is apparent. Kensei has never been bothered by this, but he knows Shuuhei has. Perhaps an introduction to the advantages of Kensei's stockier build will change his mind a little. It is easy, after all, for the captain to lean in and press his lips just above Shuuhei's choker, where a second ago, his hand had been. It had now shifted, alongside its counterpart, to Shuuhei's waist. "Here?" He mutters, dragging his lips across the cold, onyx material of that iconic choker. Lips press again, softly, to his clavicle. He has to pull Shuuhei's uniform slightly to the side for that one, which means it won't show, if he chooses there. However, Kensei would argue, no one said he could not leave more than one, nor that he couldn't choose both visible and invisible marks..