Summer is over, has been for weeks, but this morning is the first time Tokito has woken up feeling chilled rather than damp with sweat. Kubota isn’t in bed, but Tokito knows where to find him. He stumbles out of bed and heads to the bathroom first, relieving himself as he enjoys the feel of the cold tile floor against his bare feet.
Kubota is where Tokito expected, on the balcony smoking a cigarette –probably his first of the day, considering how he’s sitting against the railing, legs everywhere and eyes closed like he’s still asleep. But he’s gotten dressed, wearing pants and a long-sleeved shirt, though his feet are bare.
Tokito shivers as he slides the door open and steps outside. Unlike Kubota, he doesn’t even have a shirt on, just sweat pants and his glove, but he doesn’t really care. He climbs onto Kubota’s lap and tucks in close. Kubota hums and rubs his nose against the top of Tokito’s head.
“You’ll catch your death,” Kubota says. Tokito hears the sizzle of another drag on his cigarette.
“Too late,” Tokito mumbles against Kubota’s throat, not really even sure what his words are supposed to mean because Kubota is warm, and he’s wrapping an arm around Tokito’s shoulders. It feels so damn good to shiver in the cold air and have Kubota pull him closer in response.
Tokito used to hate himself for his morning sentimentality when he and Kubota first started sleeping together. He’d have a cup of coffee or three and wake up sufficiently enough to kick himself over it, feeling utterly mortified by his behavior, and end up harassing Kubota more than he probably deserved just to make up for it. But Kubota hadn’t reacted badly to any of it—the stupid cuddling or the harassment. After a while, Tokito figured they could keep the cuddling and he’d save the harassment for the times Kubota truly fucked up. Like when he forgets to put the leftover curry in the fridge and the kitchen stinks of it come morning.
Both of Kubota’s arms are now rubbing circles up and down Tokito’s back, which means the he’s finished his cigarette, likely flicked the butt between over the railing. Tokito lifts his head and angles for a kiss, which Kubota obliges with a smile against his lips. Kubota’s tongue is warm, and Tokito feels himself growing hard. His body shivers again, but he doesn’t think it has as much to do with the cold anymore.
Kubota laughs quietly, breaking their kiss, then moves his hands to Tokito’s hips. “Up,” he says as he helps lift Tokito onto his knees.
Without the warmth of Kubota’s body against his own, he’s awake enough to feel the cold air and it’s not as pleasant as it was five minutes ago. He’s reconsidering his harassment rule when Kubota takes one nipple into his mouth and sucks gently.
“Oh, shit,” Tokito says as he grips Kubota’s shoulders tightly. Kubota moves one hand up to play with Tokito’s other nipple, and the dual sensations make him moan and buck forward, even though he’s not leaning close enough for his cock to make contact with any part of Kubota’s body.
Kubota releases the nipple in his mouth and sucks in the other one. The pinch of cold air on his wet nipple somehow helps make Tokito’s cock grow even harder, and when Kubota reaches up to actually pinch it—
“Oh, fuck, Kubo-chan. Please.”
Kubota bites hard enough to hurt, but that’s okay because he also tugs Tokito’s sweat pants down, shimmies his own body lower, and takes Tokito’s cock in his mouth.
“Yes, yes, yes, yes.” Tokito knows he’s no prince of eloquence, but Kubota doesn’t seem to mind. He just takes Tokito’s cock in deeply, sucking and licking and occasionally humming like he’s having happy thoughts, and that’s all fine. Tokito can’t hold onto Kubota’s shoulders properly anymore, not if he wants to stay upright, so he lets go and grabs onto the balcony’s railing.
Kubota’s hands are cupping Tokito’s ass, encouraging him to thrust into his mouth, which feels amazing and perfect and Tokito is so damn close to coming but he wants to hang on just a little longer. When, however, Kubota slides a finger between his cheeks and starts rubbing it against Tokito’s hole, well—a man can only take so damn much. Tokito thrusts forward a little too hard, making Kubota gag, but Kubota doesn’t complain, just keeps sucking and rubbing and Tokito comes in his mouth with a short cry. Kubota presses his finger hard enough that the tip slips in, and it burns slightly but even that feels better than it should.
Trying to figure out his body’s reactions to the things Kubota does to it—Tokito can admit he gave that game up a long time ago. Now he just goes with the flow.
Kubota swallows Tokito’s come and slowly lets his cock slip out of his mouth. He tugs him back down into his lap. Tokito can feel how hard he is against his ass, but it’s awkward because, technically, he still has his sweat pants on and he can’t rub properly against Kubota’s cock in order to bring him off.
“Let’s go inside,” Tokito urges, then bites Kubota’s lip and pulls it back slightly, tugging toward the open sliding door.
But Kubota shakes his head and helps him pull his sweats back up. He wraps himself around Tokito’s body in such a way that the chill in the air barely reaches any naked skin despite the lack of appropriate clothing.
“No, I’m good,” Kubota says. “I’m good.”
No, you’re not, is on the tip of Tokito’s tongue, because neither one of them is all that “good,” in the genuine sense of the word. But here, now … yeah, okay. Tokito can accept that with Kubota all around him, all over him, doing his best not to let the cold in, he is good. They both are.
They both are.