( yes, okay, good. he rests a little easier once kuroo takes the lubricant, his body soothing out the arch his spine had gathered at some point, laying almost flat on the floor with his thighs propped up on kuroo's hips. there's a few seconds of fumble, of kuroo's reassuring hands and akaashi's eyes fluttering shut just a moment — and then he says nekoma and akaashi's eyes light up again, rising up on his elbows to get a better look at kuroo.
and himself, it seems. his body looks like a warzone in some areas, bitten flesh burning red like led signs lighting up, saying kuroo was here, and here, and here, the sight of which isn't unpleasant. he might have to wear sweats ( in summer ) to practice, and he marvels in the thought, having secrets to keep hidden and the truth for kuroo's dirty mind only. the angry flare of his teased cock curves upwards on his belly, leaking a thick pool of precome on his stomach that puddles and spills down the tracks of his abdomen muscles. he watches it, mouth slightly agape, head tilted to the side as if it's the most curious thing he's ever seen.)
Okay.
( silly, he thinks. now he can never say nekoma again. )
Ye — haa, yes and no. ( he says unhelpfully, although he can't be entirely blamed. wayward, intrusive fingers steal the majority of his thoughts, hips swiveling eagerly against them. there's an evident burn but not an unfamiliar one — not even an uncomfortable one, just a pressing reminder that this is happening, the kind of stuff you wake up in a cold sweat after dreaming about. ) Finger myself? Yes — yeah. Get fucked? No.
( he watches the captain's fingers disappearing between his legs, shining in some angles of the artificial light over head. entranced, maybe. the only thing he has to compare it to is his own time hidden behind locked doors and under the head of the shower, which isn't a fair compare and contrast, really. kuroo's fingers are so mindblowingly different and — and better, at that, deeper and braver and more experienced. akaashi wonders if masturbation will ever be the same. ( it won't. he has reality to back up his fantasy fodder now. )
gracefully, one of his hands reaches downwards to wrap a hard o behind the weight of his heavy balls, as further protection against coming too early. akaashi gives his question a few fleeting moments of hard thought, licking his lips again as he eyes kuroo's collarbone, his bare chest. he takes offense at the short still resting on his lean hips. )
You'll lay on your back, I think. ( he poses it as a question, despite the wording. ) And I'll sit on it. And then you can come inside me. Okay?
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and himself, it seems. his body looks like a warzone in some areas, bitten flesh burning red like led signs lighting up, saying kuroo was here, and here, and here, the sight of which isn't unpleasant. he might have to wear sweats ( in summer ) to practice, and he marvels in the thought, having secrets to keep hidden and the truth for kuroo's dirty mind only. the angry flare of his teased cock curves upwards on his belly, leaking a thick pool of precome on his stomach that puddles and spills down the tracks of his abdomen muscles. he watches it, mouth slightly agape, head tilted to the side as if it's the most curious thing he's ever seen.)
Okay.
( silly, he thinks. now he can never say nekoma again. )
Ye — haa, yes and no. ( he says unhelpfully, although he can't be entirely blamed. wayward, intrusive fingers steal the majority of his thoughts, hips swiveling eagerly against them. there's an evident burn but not an unfamiliar one — not even an uncomfortable one, just a pressing reminder that this is happening, the kind of stuff you wake up in a cold sweat after dreaming about. ) Finger myself? Yes — yeah. Get fucked? No.
( he watches the captain's fingers disappearing between his legs, shining in some angles of the artificial light over head. entranced, maybe. the only thing he has to compare it to is his own time hidden behind locked doors and under the head of the shower, which isn't a fair compare and contrast, really. kuroo's fingers are so mindblowingly different and — and better, at that, deeper and braver and more experienced. akaashi wonders if masturbation will ever be the same. ( it won't. he has reality to back up his fantasy fodder now. )
gracefully, one of his hands reaches downwards to wrap a hard o behind the weight of his heavy balls, as further protection against coming too early. akaashi gives his question a few fleeting moments of hard thought, licking his lips again as he eyes kuroo's collarbone, his bare chest. he takes offense at the short still resting on his lean hips. )
You'll lay on your back, I think. ( he poses it as a question, despite the wording. ) And I'll sit on it. And then you can come inside me. Okay?