[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
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. ]