[ Katsura feels even more heat pour into his cheeks— he can only stare at his hand as it is caressed and loved on by this man. He blinks a few times at this intimate gesture, gaze traveling back to his partner's face as he could hear his heart drum in his own ears. What the hell was that? He loved it.
Katsura mutters his name, quietly, as in question before their palms are reaching down, under the water, and folding around both of their slick cocks. His voice hangs in his throat, preventing him to question any further— his lips tucking inward briefly before Sakamoto seals his mouth over his.
A very quiet and low hum bellows from his throat as he feels himself being handled. It only takes a matter of seconds before he feels his hips roll forward— carefully and smoothly— against Sakamoto and their palms. He almost forgets what to do with his own hand for a moment, a slight gasp being heard when the pad of his friend's finger skirts over his slit. Katsura wraps his thumb around them both, but the very end of it traces up and down in a repeated motion against the side of Sakamoto's length— right over the thickest vein.
How did he come to this? He would have never imagined being in this situation and really enjoying it with Sakamoto. Tell him this years ago and he would have laughed. Surely their friendship didn't need to bloom because of the loss of a mutual friend, but they both felt a terrible loneliness without that person in their lives anymore. Would being intimate with one another take this kind of pain of way? Of course not— but it was a fleeting pleasure.
Another smooth buck against them— a bit slippery— and Zura feels his back end grabbed. He stops moving everything, practically a deer in headlights at the question. That? Sakamoto was wanting to do that to him? He really couldn't say; he really didn't know what to say. His brain was growing foggy enough as it is and his dark eyes can only stare at Sakamoto for a few moments.
He remains close in Sakamoto's space to respond, and when he does, his voice sounds low and needy; his statement is firm: ]
O—Only if you can make me feel good. [ Coming from Katsura, of all people, it sounded pretty hot, even if there was some hesitance at first.
Then, the worry settles back in his vocals with his next sentence: ] Only if you do it safe..!
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Katsura mutters his name, quietly, as in question before their palms are reaching down, under the water, and folding around both of their slick cocks. His voice hangs in his throat, preventing him to question any further— his lips tucking inward briefly before Sakamoto seals his mouth over his.
A very quiet and low hum bellows from his throat as he feels himself being handled. It only takes a matter of seconds before he feels his hips roll forward— carefully and smoothly— against Sakamoto and their palms. He almost forgets what to do with his own hand for a moment, a slight gasp being heard when the pad of his friend's finger skirts over his slit. Katsura wraps his thumb around them both, but the very end of it traces up and down in a repeated motion against the side of Sakamoto's length— right over the thickest vein.
How did he come to this? He would have never imagined being in this situation and really enjoying it with Sakamoto. Tell him this years ago and he would have laughed. Surely their friendship didn't need to bloom because of the loss of a mutual friend, but they both felt a terrible loneliness without that person in their lives anymore. Would being intimate with one another take this kind of pain of way? Of course not— but it was a fleeting pleasure.
Another smooth buck against them— a bit slippery— and Zura feels his back end grabbed. He stops moving everything, practically a deer in headlights at the question.
That? Sakamoto was wanting to do that to him? He really couldn't say; he really didn't know what to say. His brain was growing foggy enough as it is and his dark eyes can only stare at Sakamoto for a few moments.
He remains close in Sakamoto's space to respond, and when he does, his voice sounds low and needy; his statement is firm: ]
O—Only if you can make me feel good.
[ Coming from Katsura, of all people, it sounded pretty hot, even if there was some hesitance at first.
Then, the worry settles back in his vocals with his next sentence: ]
Only if you do it safe..!
[ and then: ]
One first..!
[ well, duh. ]