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Osamu’s hands come around his waist, warm and firm as they smooth over his skin. He’s still not clean , but Osamu promised more and Kiyoomi know’s he’ll come through. So he can deal with this for now, because there’s no point in washing up when he knows they’ve only just started to make a mess.
So.
He tries not to roll his eyes when Osamu sidles up to him, soft cock strategically sliding between the cleft of his thighs, chest pressed to Kiyoomi’s back. “Yes?”
“Don’t get all mean with me. I had your cock in my mouth.”
Kiyoomi scowls, slaps Osamu’s hands but the other presses closer, cheek to cheek so he’s absolutely smothering him. “You’re ruining the mood, why would you say that-”
“Kiyoomi,” Osamu's breath fans out across his face, lips brushing against his temple. “Kiyoomi, baby,” Osamu’s hands, squeezing at his thighs, his waist, his chest. “Stop whining.”
The way his heart is racing, there’s no way Osamu can’t feel it, not when he’s stuck to him like a second skin, grinding into him slow, savoring the press. Kiyoomi’s mouth goes dry and he swallows around nothing, shuddering when Osamu's hand dips between his legs, fingers pressing into the skin of his inner thigh.
“I’m gonna make you feel good, okay, baby?”
Okay baby , as if Kiyoomi’s not warmed up enough, building up a sweat before they’ve even started. It’s gross , Osamu’s being gross , but Kiyoomi’s moans, low and needy, pressing his face into the pillow when Osamu presses his thumbs into his hip bones and grinds his cock into the cleft of Kiyoomi’s ass.
“Be nice,” he mumbles, lips pressing into the pillow.
“Hmm?” Osamu’s half on top of him, whispering right into his ear, sleazy and hot, “what was that?”
“I said be nice this time.” Kiyoomi bites back, narrows his eyes in a warning. Post-orgasm his brain is still fuzzy around the edges, and he doesn’t have it in him to kick up a fuss. The heat is back, simmering warm under his skin, that uncomfortable kind of fever that begs for him to do something about it, but his body’s loose, too relaxed for the kind of fuck he needs.
“But you like it when i’m mean.” as if whispering it right into his ear wasn’t enough, Osamu punctuates it by wrapping his hand around Kiyoomi’s cock, fingers and palms sliding over the skin.
Kiyoomi moans, rolls his hips back. “ Osamu .”
Osamu hums, kisses the spot behind Kiyoomi’s ear. “Okay, okay. I’ll be gentle. Whatever you want baby.”
Something indignant rises up in him, white hot and embarrassed, but all there is to do is whine and turn his head for a kiss. It’s awkward and he bumps noses with Osamu till he reaches back to cup his face and kiss him properly.
“Osamu,” he breathes, licks his lips when they part.
In response he gets Osamu gently turning him to lie flat, hand skimming over his stomach, resting at the curve of his neck. Kiyoomi hums, pulls Osamu in by the nape for a kiss, tongue laving at the crease of his lips till he opens up, willing and hungry.
It doesn’t take much to get him worked up - Kiyoomi figured he’d be casual in bed the way he is about everything else, but Osamu’s easier to rile up than expected, with a pride to rival even Kiyoomi’s.
It’s hot, actually, the way Osamu laves his desire all over Kiyoomi, wants him bad enough to let him know.
There’s some scuffling under the pillow and Kiyoomi breaks away, scowling till Osamu gets up properly to retrieve the bottle of lube from the side of the mattress, not caring at all that he’s killing Kiyoomi’s vibe.
When Osamu trips over his pants and flops onto the bed, Kiyoomi groans, rolling away from him. “That’s it. You’re ruining the mood.”
“ Baby , baby, Koomi,” Osamu drapes himself over Kiyoomi’s back, kissing behind his ear. “I love you. I love you. Look at me.”
Kiyoomi squirms. “You’re just saying that because you want to fuck me.”
Osamu’s hand slows over Kiyoomi’s stomach. “I love you and I want to fuck you. And if I ruin the mood, I can just build it back up again, can’t I?”
He turns over, narrowing his eyes. Osamu meets his gaze, smiling. His heart squeezes pitifully in his chest and rolls on top of Osamu, cupping his jaw as he kisses him. “I love you.”
Osamu’s hands come to his waist, pulling him down so their bodies align and their cocks slide together, slow and hot. Kiyoomi moans into his mouth, hips jerking as he grinds down.
“You still want me to be gentle?”
Kiyoomi groans, burying his face in Osamu’s neck, cheek pressed to his skin, feeling the rumble of his laugh coming up from his chest. “You’re the worst.”