[ Akaashi's saying something. Kuroo feels it more than hears it, at first, the thrum of his body changing when he speaks and interrupting the winding tension palpable in his thighs. The words only register when he's slacking off, bobbing up on Akaashi's length in shallow gestures to catch his breath after recognizing the signs of someone ready to come.
He'd been ready for a mouthful. Had been expecting it and looking forward to it after a whole year's worth of imagining what it would be like if fate would be so kind to let aliens invade the earth and create the unlikely scenario of two of them doing this. The unlikely, in the end, wasn't that unlikely at all - but Kuroo's expectations are still getting blown out of the water, and Kuroo thinks he might consider being more religious if whichever deity that created Akaashi would favor him more.
Kuroo pulls off him, wiping his mouth with the back of a hand as he looks up, taking in the dots of blood welling on Akaashi's lip, at the mess of his hair, at the look of determination in his eyes. ]
You're killing me. [ He's completely done for. ] Yeah. Akkachi, yes, I want to.
[ Kuroo takes the offered tube from Akaashi's hands, ends up holding it in his mouth first as he soothes the setter down to calm somewhat - running both hands over his thighs, over his halves, wide sweeping circles that reach up and around his waist and back down between Akaashi's legs. He flips the cap on the tube with his teeth, freeing one hand to catch it as the tube drops and Kuroo spits the cap out to follow; it's a practiced dexterity, borne out of previous intimacies with himself and a handful of infrequent encounters, and Kuroo admits that he's glad for it. ]
I'm not being patronizing, alright? [ His voice is rough around the edges, and he's squeezing lube on his fingers, ditching the tube aside as he warms what he can of the lube using only one hand. He's using the other to drag knuckles along the seam of Akaashi's thigh, running it down on the inside where Kuroo's own teeth marks are livid red against the pale. ] Say something if it hurts. Like... I don't know. Nekoma. If you want me to stop.
[ Kuroo doesn't know about kink negotiations - at least not yet - but he knows about biology, and internet pornography, and discussing consent with girls who confess and assume they have to put out on the first date because entitled asshole jocks are an unfortunate reality in Tokyo schools. He keeps his nose clean.
It only makes sense for that attitude to extend here, in the confines of his bedroom - in the company of someone even more exacting and ruthless than he is. ]
Have you done this before?
[ He might have done better to ask that before he's pressing two fingers against Akaashi's rim, smearing the lube around and teasing at penetration with gentle but firm nudges. Kuroo can feel a thigh muscle jump under his other hand, kneads against it in reflex, ends up pushing further into Akaashi than he meant to when he shifts his weight between his own knees. ]
—Fuck, Akaashi. Talk to me. [ Talk to me, he asks, even though he's breaching him up to the third knuckle of one finger in measured strokes, teasing in a second before they both get the catch to catch up on breathing. ] How do you want this?
no subject
He'd been ready for a mouthful. Had been expecting it and looking forward to it after a whole year's worth of imagining what it would be like if fate would be so kind to let aliens invade the earth and create the unlikely scenario of two of them doing this. The unlikely, in the end, wasn't that unlikely at all - but Kuroo's expectations are still getting blown out of the water, and Kuroo thinks he might consider being more religious if whichever deity that created Akaashi would favor him more.
Kuroo pulls off him, wiping his mouth with the back of a hand as he looks up, taking in the dots of blood welling on Akaashi's lip, at the mess of his hair, at the look of determination in his eyes. ]
You're killing me. [ He's completely done for. ] Yeah. Akkachi, yes, I want to.
[ Kuroo takes the offered tube from Akaashi's hands, ends up holding it in his mouth first as he soothes the setter down to calm somewhat - running both hands over his thighs, over his halves, wide sweeping circles that reach up and around his waist and back down between Akaashi's legs. He flips the cap on the tube with his teeth, freeing one hand to catch it as the tube drops and Kuroo spits the cap out to follow; it's a practiced dexterity, borne out of previous intimacies with himself and a handful of infrequent encounters, and Kuroo admits that he's glad for it. ]
I'm not being patronizing, alright? [ His voice is rough around the edges, and he's squeezing lube on his fingers, ditching the tube aside as he warms what he can of the lube using only one hand. He's using the other to drag knuckles along the seam of Akaashi's thigh, running it down on the inside where Kuroo's own teeth marks are livid red against the pale. ] Say something if it hurts. Like... I don't know. Nekoma. If you want me to stop.
[ Kuroo doesn't know about kink negotiations - at least not yet - but he knows about biology, and internet pornography, and discussing consent with girls who confess and assume they have to put out on the first date because entitled asshole jocks are an unfortunate reality in Tokyo schools. He keeps his nose clean.
It only makes sense for that attitude to extend here, in the confines of his bedroom - in the company of someone even more exacting and ruthless than he is. ]
Have you done this before?
[ He might have done better to ask that before he's pressing two fingers against Akaashi's rim, smearing the lube around and teasing at penetration with gentle but firm nudges. Kuroo can feel a thigh muscle jump under his other hand, kneads against it in reflex, ends up pushing further into Akaashi than he meant to when he shifts his weight between his own knees. ]
—Fuck, Akaashi. Talk to me. [ Talk to me, he asks, even though he's breaching him up to the third knuckle of one finger in measured strokes, teasing in a second before they both get the catch to catch up on breathing. ] How do you want this?