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(fic) sk8 the infinity | joe/cherry
Sweat kink and armpit licking. 583w, explicit.
Kojiro’s in the kitchen, making himself a protein smoothie after coming home from his morning jog, when he feels another body press up against his.
He grins when Kaoru’s hands come around to grope at his chest through his tank top. “It’s a bit early for you to be out of bed.”
“I woke up when you got up,” Kaoru says, nosing at the nape of Kojiro’s neck, the tip of his nose cold against the warm skin. “Mm, you smell good.”
Kojiro laughs softly, not having expected to indulge his husband’s sweat kink at seven o’clock in the morning. Except then Kaoru gets up on his tiptoes and runs his tongue along the same skin he was nosing at before and Kojiro’s knees almost buckle with how dizzyingly hard he suddenly is.
The protein smoothie can wait. He turns around, picking Kaoru up and carrying him back to bed. Kaoru smiles up at him, sharp and predatory, and curls his fingers into Kojiro’s sweat-damp hair to pull him into a biting kiss. His other hand slides up Kojiro’s tank, squeezing at his pec firmly before pinching at his nipple.
Kaoru’s sleep yukata does nothing to hide his erection. Kojiro palms at it, chuckling as Kaoru presses his face into Kojiro’s neck and breathes him in.
“No one would believe me,” he murmurs, slotting his knee between Kaoru’s and grinding their hips together, “that the perfectly put-together Sakurayashiki-sensei gets off on his big, sweaty husband being just that.”
“This is no one else’s business,” Kaoru mutters, which sounds far more sensible than Kojiro wants him.
He fixes that, though, by pushing Kaoru’s head into his armpit. Kaoru inhales sharply and moans, low and throaty. Kojiro isn’t going to lie. It does wonders for his ego.
“Yeah?” Kojiro tugs his tank off and Kaoru scrambles to help him, tugging the material away and tossing it aside.
Kaoru pushes Kojiro onto his back and straddles him. He pins one of Kojiro’s hands against the mattress just above his head, linking their fingers together, and presses his face into Kojiro’s armpit.
“Fuck,” Kaoru sighs, sounding blissful as he rolls his hips against Kojiro.
The close attention is almost a little too much. Kojiro grips Kaoru’s hand tightly to ground himself, to let Kaoru do this at his own pace, and takes a deep breath.
He’s still not prepared for when Kaoru licks his armpit, one long stripe from bottom to top and then another. They’re lucky he’s not ticklish.
“Kaoru,” he gasps out, his hips jerking. He should have gotten them undressed properly.
As if reading his mind, Kaoru reaches down with his free hand, tugging Kojiro’s cock out of his shorts and then tugging his yukata open so he can wrap his long fingers around both of them and stroke. Kojiro moans, his head falling back.
“Are you gonna come?” Kaoru asks, stroking harder.
His yukata has slipped down his arms now, his loose hair is hanging over one shoulder and his eyes are dark with pleasure. It’s a version of Kaoru that only Kojiro gets to see and the thought coils in his gut, possessive and greedy, tipping him over the edge. He comes hard, moaning Kaoru’s name. Kaoru follows close behind.
“Fuck,” he breathes, once his voice is working again. “We should probably get cleaned up right—Kaoru?”
Kaoru has dozed off, snuggling into Kojiro’s armpit. Kojiro sighs, dropping his head back down onto the bed. He figures they can lie like this a little longer.
Kojiro’s in the kitchen, making himself a protein smoothie after coming home from his morning jog, when he feels another body press up against his.
He grins when Kaoru’s hands come around to grope at his chest through his tank top. “It’s a bit early for you to be out of bed.”
“I woke up when you got up,” Kaoru says, nosing at the nape of Kojiro’s neck, the tip of his nose cold against the warm skin. “Mm, you smell good.”
Kojiro laughs softly, not having expected to indulge his husband’s sweat kink at seven o’clock in the morning. Except then Kaoru gets up on his tiptoes and runs his tongue along the same skin he was nosing at before and Kojiro’s knees almost buckle with how dizzyingly hard he suddenly is.
The protein smoothie can wait. He turns around, picking Kaoru up and carrying him back to bed. Kaoru smiles up at him, sharp and predatory, and curls his fingers into Kojiro’s sweat-damp hair to pull him into a biting kiss. His other hand slides up Kojiro’s tank, squeezing at his pec firmly before pinching at his nipple.
Kaoru’s sleep yukata does nothing to hide his erection. Kojiro palms at it, chuckling as Kaoru presses his face into Kojiro’s neck and breathes him in.
“No one would believe me,” he murmurs, slotting his knee between Kaoru’s and grinding their hips together, “that the perfectly put-together Sakurayashiki-sensei gets off on his big, sweaty husband being just that.”
“This is no one else’s business,” Kaoru mutters, which sounds far more sensible than Kojiro wants him.
He fixes that, though, by pushing Kaoru’s head into his armpit. Kaoru inhales sharply and moans, low and throaty. Kojiro isn’t going to lie. It does wonders for his ego.
“Yeah?” Kojiro tugs his tank off and Kaoru scrambles to help him, tugging the material away and tossing it aside.
Kaoru pushes Kojiro onto his back and straddles him. He pins one of Kojiro’s hands against the mattress just above his head, linking their fingers together, and presses his face into Kojiro’s armpit.
“Fuck,” Kaoru sighs, sounding blissful as he rolls his hips against Kojiro.
The close attention is almost a little too much. Kojiro grips Kaoru’s hand tightly to ground himself, to let Kaoru do this at his own pace, and takes a deep breath.
He’s still not prepared for when Kaoru licks his armpit, one long stripe from bottom to top and then another. They’re lucky he’s not ticklish.
“Kaoru,” he gasps out, his hips jerking. He should have gotten them undressed properly.
As if reading his mind, Kaoru reaches down with his free hand, tugging Kojiro’s cock out of his shorts and then tugging his yukata open so he can wrap his long fingers around both of them and stroke. Kojiro moans, his head falling back.
“Are you gonna come?” Kaoru asks, stroking harder.
His yukata has slipped down his arms now, his loose hair is hanging over one shoulder and his eyes are dark with pleasure. It’s a version of Kaoru that only Kojiro gets to see and the thought coils in his gut, possessive and greedy, tipping him over the edge. He comes hard, moaning Kaoru’s name. Kaoru follows close behind.
“Fuck,” he breathes, once his voice is working again. “We should probably get cleaned up right—Kaoru?”
Kaoru has dozed off, snuggling into Kojiro’s armpit. Kojiro sighs, dropping his head back down onto the bed. He figures they can lie like this a little longer.