What kind of greeting is that? [Eiri rolls his eyes as he lets the door shut. There's a lack of actual exasperation, of course; he's far too pleased to see him. (Pathetic.) Soothed, even, some, as much as he can be when he's in this wretched city, anyway. (So weak, little Eiri.) He locks the door, swiftly, like that's going to keep out any niggling thoughts. Or memories. Yokozawa is here, he can focus on that now.

He faces the older man, reaches out for the lapels of his jacket while stepping closer, his grin twisting into a familiar smirk.] And now that you're here, sleeping is the last thing I intend to do. [He leans in for a kiss, little more than a nice and smooth fitting together of their lips, despite his suggestive words and damn there's just no reason for a simple kiss to feel almost as good as being safe back home.

So he draws out of it a little sooner than he normally would.] How was your flight. [It's barely a question because really who cares, but small talk is better than feeling this (pathetic, weak)...off.]