[Kaoru’s heart pounds in his throat, just barely out of time with the beat of the music. It’s distracting. Enticing. Intoxicating. Every movement of Kojiro’s body against his makes him feel a little more lightheaded, like he’s dangerously close to overheating, but somehow it’s the words that are the most powerful of all. Part of him instinctually wants to look for the sarcasm in them. But once the floodgates opened on Kojiro’s honest feelings, there has been no closing them again. It’s all so raw and sincere at every turn that Kaoru feels like he might forget all semblance of grace and trip over his own feet sometimes.
…Which no one needs to know. Ever. The official story is in the increasingly deliberate roll of his hips, the carefully calm laughter he allows to escape for a moment.]
I’ve hardly done anything yet. What if I’m only just getting started? Will you be able to handle it?
[ As if he'd back down now. Kojiro's always embraced every part of Kaoru, taken him all in stride, the good with the bad and everything between. So Kaoru doesn't need to hold back; he's safe with Kojiro, every single hidden part of him. And if this is just the start, Kojiro's awaiting the rest with bated breath.
He's still marveling at these little things, these gentle and gradual realizations. Like the slow-dawning understanding that this is what love means. It means holding this man like he's both fragile and unbreakable. It means aching to know every corner of his soul, all the parts he'd hidden 'til now. It means wanting to care for him and fuck him breathless in equal measure. And somehow, Kojiro knew it would never feel like this with anyone else.
Only Kaoru would be enough.
But he's doing this on purpose now, pushing his ass back against Kojiro the second he realizes there's something to be gained from it. Relentless. Unfuckingfair. Kojiro's hand shifts again, fingers curling loose around Kaoru's throat, tender on that pretty neck, just to keep his head at the proper angle. His lips fall beneath Kaoru's ear, drag along the nape of his neck and back up again. It's nothing new. They've been this close before. Hell, it's not even the first time Kaoru's had Kojiro's cock digging against his clothed backside. But the audience?
[With any luck, the music will cover up the low sound Kaoru exhales when Kojiro’s hand finds his throat. It would be a small mercy, given that there is no disguising the way he swallows hard and leans back against Kojiro just a touch more heavily. God, these jeans really are too tight right about now. The only thing keeping Kaoru from deciding they should come off as close to immediately as possible is that he’s still aware that he looks fucking amazing— he calculated it all too carefully to want to end the night early.
Still, it would make matters easier if he couldn’t feel fingers against his neck. Easier still if Kojiro’s answer had been more combative than fawning. It would have been familiar, and given Kaoru a foothold to dig into while figuring out where to land an answering blow. Being treated at every turn like the irresistible thing he’s dressed himself up as is making him struggle with basic things like remembering how to close his mouth. Shit. It’s all so new still, throwing his mind into disarray in the most intriguing ways.
The crowd doesn’t have to know any of that either, even if Kojiro will inevitably pick moments like this to be sharp for once and catch on. To anyone else, it will appear as if there wasn’t a moment of hesitation before Kaoru is wetting his lips conspicuously and purring back his answer.]
[ Kojiro didn't honestly expect anything less, but there's a lot that can live within the space between expectation and reality. Expectation never dictated that they'd be like this; that Kojiro would ever confess, that Kaoru would be so totally receptive to it, that they'd reach a point where they're practically fucking in the middle of a crowded dancefloor. But Kaoru's defied expectation at every turn, and Kojiro's never been so happy for Kaoru to prove him wrong.
But he's learning things too. Every day, every night, he's learning things he never knew about Kaoru. How he likes to be touched, what words will steal his breath, the subtle shift in his expression when Kojiro's hit a good nerve. Some of it still feels like forbidden knowledge, a new thrill every time Kojiro discovers some hidden facet and fits it all in to this masterpiece of a bigger picture.
This is no different. The biggest, most obvious bit of new data (or maybe it's just a solemn, blatant reminder) is: Kaoru looks fucking incredible in tight jeans and heels. But there are smaller bytes too. Like how eagerly he moves against Kojiro's body, how readily he melts. Or how hot his skin burns, and how Kojiro can't work out whether that's from exertion or arousal. Or the way his voice goes heated when Kojiro's hand finds his throat, or his stomach, or the curve of his waist, or the swell of his ass. So they can stay like this all night. They can stay like this for a lifetime.
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beefyspaghetti) wrote2021-05-08 06:09 pm
no subject
…Which no one needs to know. Ever. The official story is in the increasingly deliberate roll of his hips, the carefully calm laughter he allows to escape for a moment.]
I’ve hardly done anything yet. What if I’m only just getting started? Will you be able to handle it?
no subject
[ As if he'd back down now. Kojiro's always embraced every part of Kaoru, taken him all in stride, the good with the bad and everything between. So Kaoru doesn't need to hold back; he's safe with Kojiro, every single hidden part of him. And if this is just the start, Kojiro's awaiting the rest with bated breath.
He's still marveling at these little things, these gentle and gradual realizations. Like the slow-dawning understanding that this is what love means. It means holding this man like he's both fragile and unbreakable. It means aching to know every corner of his soul, all the parts he'd hidden 'til now. It means wanting to care for him and fuck him breathless in equal measure. And somehow, Kojiro knew it would never feel like this with anyone else.
Only Kaoru would be enough.
But he's doing this on purpose now, pushing his ass back against Kojiro the second he realizes there's something to be gained from it. Relentless. Unfuckingfair. Kojiro's hand shifts again, fingers curling loose around Kaoru's throat, tender on that pretty neck, just to keep his head at the proper angle. His lips fall beneath Kaoru's ear, drag along the nape of his neck and back up again. It's nothing new. They've been this close before. Hell, it's not even the first time Kaoru's had Kojiro's cock digging against his clothed backside. But the audience?
Well. It's a good thing they can feign dancing. ]
So don't you dare take it easy on me.
no subject
Still, it would make matters easier if he couldn’t feel fingers against his neck. Easier still if Kojiro’s answer had been more combative than fawning. It would have been familiar, and given Kaoru a foothold to dig into while figuring out where to land an answering blow. Being treated at every turn like the irresistible thing he’s dressed himself up as is making him struggle with basic things like remembering how to close his mouth. Shit. It’s all so new still, throwing his mind into disarray in the most intriguing ways.
The crowd doesn’t have to know any of that either, even if Kojiro will inevitably pick moments like this to be sharp for once and catch on. To anyone else, it will appear as if there wasn’t a moment of hesitation before Kaoru is wetting his lips conspicuously and purring back his answer.]
Me? Go easy on you? Never.
no subject
[ Kojiro didn't honestly expect anything less, but there's a lot that can live within the space between expectation and reality. Expectation never dictated that they'd be like this; that Kojiro would ever confess, that Kaoru would be so totally receptive to it, that they'd reach a point where they're practically fucking in the middle of a crowded dancefloor. But Kaoru's defied expectation at every turn, and Kojiro's never been so happy for Kaoru to prove him wrong.
But he's learning things too. Every day, every night, he's learning things he never knew about Kaoru. How he likes to be touched, what words will steal his breath, the subtle shift in his expression when Kojiro's hit a good nerve. Some of it still feels like forbidden knowledge, a new thrill every time Kojiro discovers some hidden facet and fits it all in to this masterpiece of a bigger picture.
This is no different. The biggest, most obvious bit of new data (or maybe it's just a solemn, blatant reminder) is: Kaoru looks fucking incredible in tight jeans and heels. But there are smaller bytes too. Like how eagerly he moves against Kojiro's body, how readily he melts. Or how hot his skin burns, and how Kojiro can't work out whether that's from exertion or arousal. Or the way his voice goes heated when Kojiro's hand finds his throat, or his stomach, or the curve of his waist, or the swell of his ass. So they can stay like this all night. They can stay like this for a lifetime.
All Kojiro wants is more. ]