“Fill me up . . . inside, plea—haa!”
Kurose moves his hands back to Shirotani’s hips and tightens his grip. He forces Shirotani’s hips down with more force and to his delight, Shirotani doesn’t resist. The sounds falling from his mouth grow louder and louder as Kurose rocks his hips up in tandem.
He wants to kiss Shirotani, assure him that this is alright, convince him of his love but he knows that he can’t yet. The last thing he wants to do is turn Shirotani away with a trivial action that Shirotani may reject.
“Shirotani-san,” he whispers. Shirotani’s eyes are glazed over and for a moment, worry strikes Kurose’s mind. It takes a few seconds for Shirotani’s eyes to focus and he opens his mouth to answer. Instead of a coherent reply, however, what follows is a jumble of half-formed words and breathless gasps and moans.
“Take your time,” Kurose soothes. “I still have not got to enjoy this fully after all.”
Shirotani’s body tenses up; Kurose barely has enough time to curl his fingers around Shirotani’s erection to contain some of his ejaculate as he comes, Kurose’s name on his lips.
“Do I need to restrain you again?” Kurose muses. Shirotani’s body goes lax atop his and Kurose feels, more so than sees, Shirotani shake his head. Kurose kisses the older man’s forehead for the second time tonight before he pulls out. He flips them over and holds himself up over Shirotani’s body as he strokes himself. Shirotani looks expectant and also slightly fearful as he watches Kurose’s actions with blank eyes.
He comes all over Shirotani’s stomach. And it is fascinating to see his own cum mix with the mess he has made on Shirotani’s stomach earlier.
“Ku-Kurose-kun,” Shirotani mewls.
“Sorry, I should have warned you about it before hand,” is his automatic reply.
“No. Not tha-that,” Shirotani hiccups. “Lie down with me.”
Kurose quirks a brow. “If that is what Shirotani-san wants.”
Shirotani offers up a weak smile. Kurose smiles back. He can deal with the mess later. For now, he wants to let himself rest for a short while.