( he does it again, the tongue thing, and the pebble of what might as well be called arousal at the back of his throat turns into a boulder that he tries to swallow down, eyes stuck fast on the pink circle of kuroo's lips. what ink? it could be gone already, staining akaashi's tongue -- he doesn't taste anything because his mouth is dry, humidity in the air and the scant space between them that seems void of anything that would help, save the easy, wet oasis of kuroo's mouth. he's jealous of his own thumb, suddenly, bitten and damp. he wants to sink his teeth into kuroo's lips in retort.
it's a near thing. the trail his thumb leaves down kuroo's chest is shiny and wet, catching the light at some angles when akaashi swivels his body, left and right, seated more solidly atop him. he says a personal fuck you to anyone who might've used akaashi and passive, again, in the same sentence -- because his hips roll wantonly against the rising landscapes of an eager erection, shorts curling tightly up his thighs. )
I'm into it. You.
( which is probably obvious at this point, but just in case. his body halves, stopped a hair's breath away from the mouth that started all this. if he could regale the events of tonight in the future, he'd blame it all on kuroo. it's his fault for being so charming, or so handsome, or so honest, or for having such a kissable mouth. how did akaashi ever stand a chance?
he didn't, which is why the space between them parts until it dissolves into nothing, and their mouths are on each other, akaashi's heart thumping wildly in his chest. he hasn't kissed very many people in his lifetime, but his inexperience is perhaps lost in the gasp he presses lowly, silently into kuroo's mouth, catching one of his lips to drag his teeth across, claiming an almost fierce desire on him, like the salt on kuroo's lip is from more than just the heat. )
You can take it off, ( is a murmur that caresses kuroo's chin whenever they pull back, sharing a brief glance to his hand still balled in akaashi's shirt. )
no subject
it's a near thing. the trail his thumb leaves down kuroo's chest is shiny and wet, catching the light at some angles when akaashi swivels his body, left and right, seated more solidly atop him. he says a personal fuck you to anyone who might've used akaashi and passive, again, in the same sentence -- because his hips roll wantonly against the rising landscapes of an eager erection, shorts curling tightly up his thighs. )
I'm into it. You.
( which is probably obvious at this point, but just in case. his body halves, stopped a hair's breath away from the mouth that started all this. if he could regale the events of tonight in the future, he'd blame it all on kuroo. it's his fault for being so charming, or so handsome, or so honest, or for having such a kissable mouth. how did akaashi ever stand a chance?
he didn't, which is why the space between them parts until it dissolves into nothing, and their mouths are on each other, akaashi's heart thumping wildly in his chest. he hasn't kissed very many people in his lifetime, but his inexperience is perhaps lost in the gasp he presses lowly, silently into kuroo's mouth, catching one of his lips to drag his teeth across, claiming an almost fierce desire on him, like the salt on kuroo's lip is from more than just the heat. )
You can take it off, ( is a murmur that caresses kuroo's chin whenever they pull back, sharing a brief glance to his hand still balled in akaashi's shirt. )