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Hands On

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His back hits the wall and he knows he’s trapped. His hands come up in a half-hearted attempt to push Koji away from him, but the other man uses all his weight as leverage, hands braced to both sides of Takuto’s face, and one leg already boldly inserting itself between his legs.

He doesn’t want this. Really, he doesn’t.

His hips are caught now, and he doesn’t dare move as that would add friction when he really can’t afford to…oh, there’s the friction anyway, and he can’t help but push against it. A hand slides up his torso then starts to deftly undo the buttons of his jacket. Takuto has to wonder why Koji is so good at this with one hand, no hesitation, no fumbling, as if the buttons themselves hurry to slide out of their holes for him.

Koji doesn’t stop at the jacket, not even bothering to slide it off Takuto’s shoulders. The tie is next, its knot loosened, and left to hang carelessly from Takuto’s neck. Now it’s the shirt’s turn, but this time Takuto doesn’t care whether Koji does it one or two handed, because Koji’s tongue and teeth are doing unspeakable things to his ear and neck, and… oh yes, there, right there.

The cool night air hits his bare chest as the fabric of his shirt is pushed apart. It doesn’t seem to be enough, though, and Koji doesn’t waste time in pulling the shirt out of his pants completely. Then two hands, definitely two hands this time, slip around his waist to the small of his back, only to slide lower and cup his ass, shamelessly pulling him onto Koji’s thigh.

The rough material of the other man’s uniform rubs against his stomach, the cold metal of the buttons biting into his skin. He gasps. The moan he’s been holding back forces its way from his lips and he knows he has lost.

He opens his eyes again and meets Koji’s triumphant smirk with as much irritation as he can muster. But the other just presses his leg harder against Takuto’s crotch and the irritation fades away, swallowed by the throbbing of his cock and the need that surges through him. He doesn’t protest as Koji wedges a hand between them, undoes the belt and the fly of his slacks and slips them down. He gives a choked whimper as the hand wraps around his length and all but pushes into the craved touch.

His hands curl into the folds at the sides of Koji’s jacket, holding on as the other man strokes him with long, firm movements. Again, he feels rough fabric grazing his sensitive skin, and then there’s a hot, hard cock pressed against his own and he doesn’t care when and how and with which hand. Fingers slick with saliva replace the ones already there, wrap around them both, stroking hard and urgent.

Panting breath hits his cheek and Takuto finds Koji’s face close, so close, the other’s eyes not smug anymore but full of want. He lifts his hands and slides them into the silver mass of hair, pulling Koji into a kiss. It’s messy because he can’t really concentrate on kissing, but it’s good and hot and when Koji bites his lip it just adds to the tension in his belly straining to be released.

Koji’s hand speeds up. Takuto knows he’s close, closer and then he’s there, coming over the other man’s hand and his own stomach and some of it probably hit Koji’s jacket, too. The other follows right after him, before slumping against Takuto and making the mess even worse. Takuto doesn’t care. It’s Koji’s uniform after all, he thinks, and allows himself a smirk.