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Kenma wakes up first this morning, which is unusual. It's the weekend though; it doesn't really matter, so maybe that's why.
Usually if he wakes up with Kuroo still in the bed he's too hot, sweaty under his shirt, and wants to get up right away. Today he feels only pleasantly warm, which is nice. Maybe it's the arms-length distance between him and Kuroo; maybe it's that he slept in a tank top instead of a t-shirt. Whatever it is, it makes him want to stay in bed a little longer.
He rolls into that distance, closer to Kuroo, squinting at the nape of his neck. Hair meets skin in a soft line, some locks curling the slightest bit upward and others completely smashed. Kenma leans forward and presses his nose to Kuroo's hairline, breathing in the soft smell of shampoo. The collar of Kuroo's shirt is stretched out wide, leaving his neck mostly bared. Kenma presses his lips to the skin, careful.
It's not that hot yet even now, close to another body. Kuroo's shifting just a little bit, on the verge of waking up. Kenma puts a hand to his broad upper back, feeling the expansion of his breath. He opens his mouth and presses the edge of his teeth to Kuroo's skin.
Kuroo hums sleepily.
Kenma noses further down the nape of Kuroo's neck, kissing and biting each of the exposed bumps of his spine, one at a time. He feels comfortable and warm, almost on the verge of going to sleep again. He likes Kuroo's smell.
"Mmm, what are we doing," Kuroo asks, a barely-coherent mumble.
"Not much," Kenma says, voice a raspy whisper. "Just this." He fits his teeth against a rise of muscle at the back of Kuroo's shoulder, biting gently, then breathes against it.
"I like that," Kuroo sighs, then slowly rolls over to envelop Kenma in a hug. "Keep going."
Kenma presses his curled fists into Kuroo's sides, aligning their knees, and bites this time at Kuroo's collarbone. Then, a little more boldly, under his jaw.
They ignore that place where their crotches line up, or at least Kenma does. He can feel Kuroo's cock in a hard line, just beside his own. Something in his stomach is starting to heat.
He kisses at the side of Kuroo's neck, then sucks there, letting his teeth dig in harder this time. Kuroo groans, and Kenma can feel his hips start to move in the tiniest increments. His arms around Kenma stay steady, not tightening, just reassuringly firm.
Kenma bites again, this time into the corner where Kuroo's neck and shoulder meet. Kuroo makes a "hnngh" sort of noise, cock grinding harder into Kenma's hip. Kenma trails a hand to the small of Kuroo's back and bites down harder, not letting go until Kuroo starts panting and the movement of his hips stills.
"You're mean, you know," Kuroo says into his hair.
"I like this," Kenma says.
"Sadist."
Kenma blinks up at him, impassive. Kuroo smiles, hugging him tighter.
Kenma feels hot under the blankets now, but not in a bad way. In an interested sort of way, maybe. His hand on Kuroo's back searches cautiously for the edge of his shirt. When he finds it, he slides the tips of his fingers underneath.
"Mmm," Kuroo says, looking down at him.
Kenma meets his eyes evenly.
"Good morning," Kuroo says, dragging a hand up Kenma's back, into his hair, cradling his head for a kiss.
Kenma closes his eyes and kisses back, pressing his hand fully against the skin at the dip of Kuroo's waist. He likes this. He opens his mouth a little wider. He wants Kuroo tighter against him. Harder.
"You want to?" Kuroo asks against his mouth.
Kenma flushes. "Yeah, I do."
"How, then?"
"I dunno," Kenma says, pulling away and ducking his chin down. He clutches at Kuroo's body with both hands, pulls him closer in. Carefully, he fits his hips against Kuroo's and grinds. It feels good.
"Come back here," Kuroo says, guiding Kenma's mouth back to his for another kiss. This one gets rougher, and Kenma pants into it, feeling needy and cramped inside. He's conscious of the heat under his skin and the way Kuroo is coaxing it out, firm and gentle in turns.
Fingers brush at his stomach, down to the waistband of his underwear, and Kenma shifts, accommodating. Kuroo's hand slips under the elastic easily, fitting around Kenma's cock in a good grip and jerking him, slow and measured. Kenma breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead to Kuroo's shoulder.
The longer Kuroo strokes him, the sweatier it gets. Kenma pants into Kuroo's chest and his temple slides slickly against Kuroo's skin. He reaches down to his briefs and lifts the elastic—it feels like steam should escape, it's so hot—before pulling it over his cock and Kuroo's hand. His underwear gets caught around his thighs; he squirms until he can kick it properly away.
He makes a displeased noise when Kuroo's hand leaves his cock, but Kuroo's just stripping off his own clothes: shirt and boxers, leaving only the long expanse of his body. He flashes Kenma a grin before rummaging around over the edge of the bed. Looking for the lube, probably, Kenma thinks, closing his eyes.
The sheets feel like a trap around his body, but he doesn't want to let go of them yet. He's naked from the waist down, and he feels like it, vulnerable and hot. There's a draft as Kuroo returns, squishing in against Kenma's body. Where their skin presses together now, Kenma feels like he's going to burn up.
He lets Kuroo touch him as he likes. He leaves light kisses on each of Kenma's cheekbones, and on his bottom lip. He drags his palm up the back of Kenma's thigh, over his ass, to his waist. His nose dips to Kenma's sternum, where his shirt has ridden up; Kenma feels the flicker of a tongue against his chest, and jerks. Kuroo comes back up, grinning into Kenma's shoulder, and wraps his hand around Kenma's cock again.
It's like that for a few moments, before Kenma abruptly grips at Kuroo's biceps and says, "More."
"What kind of more," Kuroo murmurs, rubbing his fingers over the head of Kenma's cock.
Kenma breathes unsteadily, in and out, before deciding, "Nothing too messy."
"Hmm..." Kuroo lets go, hand drifting away. "Can I get messy?"
Kenma buries his face into Kuroo's collarbone. "If you want."
"Then, how about..." Kuroo moves his thigh a little, until Kenma's cock slips into the open space between his legs.
Kenma grips tighter at Kuroo's arms, breath catching, before he says, "Yeah."
It's a second of Kuroo managing the lube, slicking between his thighs and over Kenma's aching cock, positioning them. It's another of Kenma holding his breath against the sensation, feeling the dark, needy thing in the bottom of his stomach swirl, almost swallowing him up.
"Kenma," Kuroo says, soft but plaintive. He pulls at Kenma's hip.
Kenma moves just a little, breathing out hard. Kuroo's legs are tight, almost trembling. He thrusts properly once, twice, listening to Kuroo's uneven breathing, and then settles into something like a rhythm. He ducks his head to bite at Kuroo's shoulder again, and Kuroo grunts with it, thighs pressing in tighter somehow.
It's sweaty. It feels like a fuck, and it feels good. Kenma pants down against Kuroo's chest and grips at his ass; Kuroo's panting just as hard, fist bumping irregularly against Kenma's belly as he jerks himself. Kenma bites his neck and he groans, loud.
It doesn't last forever; it can't. After a little while Kenma comes, harder than he has in a long time, gasping in great sweeps of breath against the side of Kuroo's neck. Eventually he slumps fully into Kuroo's chest, pressing his forehead there.
Kuroo moans above him, hand working faster as he mumbles, "Kenma, Kenma, please, ah."
Sleepy now, Kenma reaches down and finds Kuroo's balls, squeezing them a little. Kuroo gets louder, and louder still when Kenma presses his fingers against the smooth skin behind them. He's still slippery down there, it's easy to rub in hard.
At the point where Kenma ducks further under the covers—he bites hard at Kuroo's stomach, and then his hip—Kuroo goes silent other than the ragged sound of his breath. Kenma bites the same place harder, and sucks lazily, digging his teeth in until Kuroo's whole body shudders. Kuroo keeps stroking himself as he comes, but his other hand reaches down blindly for Kenma. Kenma catches the hand and squeezes it, watching the rapid heave of Kuroo's belly. After a moment or two, he pulls his mouth off the skin of Kuroo's hip with a pop.
He eyes the indents he's left with his teeth. The mark is going to be impressive, but it probably won't match the biggest one he's ever done.
"Fuck," Kuroo says eventually.
Kenma shifts up the bed until his head pokes out from under the covers. He squints; it's gotten bright in their bedroom.
"How're you doing?" Kuroo asks, sounding slightly drunk.
"I'm going to take a shower," Kenma says. He's still in his tank top and he's sweaty underneath it, now. He throws the covers onto Kuroo and gets up.
Kuroo hugs the mass of blankets and says, "Kenma, I love you so muuuch."
Kenma ignores him, pulling off his shirt; he uses it to wipe off the worst of the sweat and some of the lube. He doesn't mind the lube so much, really. It's nice stuff, it doesn't leave him feeling sticky like some of the others they'd tried.
He's only been in the shower for a minute or so before Kuroo jumps in after him. He hugs Kenma from behind, long arms wrapping all the way around Kenma's body. Kenma relaxes into the embrace. Combined with the spray of the shower, he feels warm and clean, inside and out. It's not sweaty like it had been in bed.
"I'll wash the sheets if you make us breakfast," Kuroo murmurs into his ear.
Kenma frowns, reaching for the soap. "You were going to do the laundry today anyway."
"You're ruining my fun," Kuroo says, kissing his wet hair. He gets a bit of the soap and starts rubbing Kenma's back.
Kenma closes his eyes. It feels nice.
"Breakfast, breakfast," Kuroo is whispering, like he's trying to hypnotize him.
"Fine," Kenma says, elbowing him. "I'll try."