[ He very nearly comes on command that first time, and he really shouldn’t have expected Kojiro to back down at the warning. Kaoru can’t help thinking it’s a little selfish—of who, he’s not entirely sure—that he’s the one to come first every time they have sex. It’s never for a lack of trying, but Kojiro manages to wring his orgasm from him or hold his own off no matter what the circumstances are. Someday, Kaoru is going to find a way to turn the tables on that, but that day is not today.
He’s weak to Kojiro’s words as much as his touch. It may sound like filth, but there is tender sentiment between each line that Kaoru can feel rumbling in Kojiro’s chest. Though it’s hard to admit, both because he’s a bit shy about it out of bed and preoccupied with other thoughts in it, he wants all of those same things; to feel Kojiro inside of him every day, to not need to let go of each other at the end of the night when they part ways to their respective homes, to pretend like they aren’t in love when they visit each other at work. Kaoru is a greedy bastard in more ways than one, and out of everything he values, he craves Kojiro’s time and attention above all else.
With Kojiro’s hips hammering into him, his hand stroking over him, his words wooing him, there’s little hope that he’ll last. The teeth on his neck are what pushes him over, harsh enough that he knows there will be a lasting mark there he can secretly admire in the mirror later. Kojiro likes to pretend he isn’t obsessed with Kaoru’s flawless pale skin, as if it isn’t as much a canvas for his love as paper is for Kaoru’s brush. Kaoru, for his part, likes the marks far more than he tends to let on. He’s already shaking with the start of his orgasm when Kojiro promises more tonight, and the tension of his body snaps as he comes. His back arches away from Kojiro’s chest as he screams with ecstasy, reaching up and behind him to grip Kojiro’s hair and anchor himself in place. ]
no subject
He’s weak to Kojiro’s words as much as his touch. It may sound like filth, but there is tender sentiment between each line that Kaoru can feel rumbling in Kojiro’s chest. Though it’s hard to admit, both because he’s a bit shy about it out of bed and preoccupied with other thoughts in it, he wants all of those same things; to feel Kojiro inside of him every day, to not need to let go of each other at the end of the night when they part ways to their respective homes, to pretend like they aren’t in love when they visit each other at work. Kaoru is a greedy bastard in more ways than one, and out of everything he values, he craves Kojiro’s time and attention above all else.
With Kojiro’s hips hammering into him, his hand stroking over him, his words wooing him, there’s little hope that he’ll last. The teeth on his neck are what pushes him over, harsh enough that he knows there will be a lasting mark there he can secretly admire in the mirror later. Kojiro likes to pretend he isn’t obsessed with Kaoru’s flawless pale skin, as if it isn’t as much a canvas for his love as paper is for Kaoru’s brush. Kaoru, for his part, likes the marks far more than he tends to let on. He’s already shaking with the start of his orgasm when Kojiro promises more tonight, and the tension of his body snaps as he comes. His back arches away from Kojiro’s chest as he screams with ecstasy, reaching up and behind him to grip Kojiro’s hair and anchor himself in place. ]