Work Text:
“Guten Appetit!”
Ness sets the hefty plate down on the table with a thump. The steam rolling off of it fills the air with the savory aroma of roasted meat and vegetables. He’s not usually one to toot his own horn, but it’s making his mouth water—he just knows Isagi’s gonna scarf it down, butter him up for seconds and thirds.
He hypes up even the simplest of meals Ness cooks, simply for the fact that he made them. It makes him a very unreliable critique, and while it might not be good for the progression of Ness’s culinary skills, it does wonders for his insatiable appetite for praise.
Very few other things make him feel more whole than when Isagi’s full and sated from food Ness prepared.
On any normal night, he would have already heard the pad of Isagi's hurried feet against tile—if he wasn’t already glued to Ness’s back, distracting him with soft kisses and wandering hands while he cooked. Instead, Ness peeks his head around the corner to see him still slumped on the couch, thighs spread, half his face shielded with his book.
That fucking book.
It must be the best thing since Shakespeare, because Isagi’s had his nose in it for weeks straight now. It’s some kind of manga series with very colorful and vibrant covers. Ness knows because he’s seen them so much the colors are starting to appear in his dreams. The artwork is beautiful, sure. Whatever. But Ness can’t help the wave of nausea they bring about now.
It’s beginning to get a little infuriating, the hold they seem to have on Isagi’s attention. It sounds silly, really, he’s jealous of inanimate objects—but when the already sparse amount of time you have with your boyfriend outside of football is preoccupied by said objects… anyone in his position would feel the same!
Really, it gets to a fucking point.
Ness huffs, his fluffy magenta bangs lifting with the force of it, and slides off his oven mitts angrily. He all but stomps over ‘till he’s standing above Isagi’s relaxed frame. He likes to think he looks menacing like this, fists pressed to his hips.
“Dinner’s ready whenever you are,” he attempts to lighten his voice, but it sounds passive aggressive to his own ears.
And Isagi… doesn’t reply. Doesn’t even look at him.
The little fuck turns the page.
“Yoichi,” he warns, louder.
“Hm?” Blue eyes flit to him then, traveling from his eyes to his apron, but they're torn away just as quickly. “Oh, thank you, but go ahead, Alexis. I’m not hungry right now.”
Not… hungry…
Alexis… not baby, or sweetheart, or love… Alexis.
Hm.
Ness has to take a long, deep breath to keep from lashing out. It’s funny that he says he’s not hungry, considering the fact that they eat dinner together at the same time every single night that they get to spend with each other like this. Isagi has told him that he even saves his appetite during the day when he knows Ness is gonna cook for him. He’s an athlete for gods sake, he’s always fucking hungry.
No, he is hungry. It’s that stupid fucking book that’s making him ignore it.
With shaky hands, Ness undoes the tie of his apron and folds it neatly, placing it down on the coffee table. Then, he calmly plops down on the other side of the couch.
“Whatcha reading?” What could possibly be more important than me?
“Just this manga Shidou’s letting me borrow.” He turns the page again. “Chainsaw Man.”
Ness hums, looking everywhere but the space between his thighs. Isagi’s manspreading habit always got him going at the worst times. He’s supposed to be angry right now, so he looks at his nails instead.
“I didn’t know you and Shidou were so close.”
There’s a huff of laughter from the other man. The sound of a page turning. “We were teammates, not exactly besties. You know how Blue Lock was, though.”
Ness can only imagine, with what little time he spent there. He figures all the guys that participated in that fucked up expiriment share some sort of trauma bond now, regardless of whether they would’ve been friends in any other circumstance.
Plus, there’s no way Shidou would ever stray too far from the tight leash Sae Itoshi has him on. Ness isn’t worried about that, he just wants to complain right now.
“Must be a good book,” Ness lays back casually, swings his feet up onto Isagi’s devastatingly inviting lap. He doesn’t flinch. “You haven't put it down.”
“It’s getting really good, actually,” Isagi perks up, a charming smile curving his lips. And, awe, normally Ness loves how excited Isagi gets to share his interests. “This is volume 9, and shits getting serious. The whole story is pretty dark, but I’m invested now. I have to catch up before Shidou spoils the ending.”
Ness refrains from rolling his eyes. Not that Isagi would notice, anyway. Chainsaw Man is more important.
The thing is, Ness had a whole plan for how the night would go. He’d cook a nice dinner, they’d feed each other and then order from their favorite ice cream spot. Isagi would get ube and Ness would get cherry, and then Isagi would massage Ness’s sore feet while they waited, as a thank you for being such a doting, dutiful boyfriend. And then their ice cream would melt because they’d be too busy devouring each other instead. Ness always gets so horny after a massage from Isagi.
In his mind's eye, it was perfect. The ideal night in.
If only Isagi shared the same idea.
“What’s it about?” Ness begrudgingly asks, digging his sock-clad foot into Isagi’s thigh. He doesn’t even care, just wants Isagi to keep talking to him.
Isagi arches a brow at him, suspicious, but still smiling. Hopeful. He’s so cute it’s infuriating and stupid. “You’re interested?”
“In you,” Ness says too quickly, embarrassingly. He feels his cheeks warm. “And… the things you like. Duh, stupid Yoichi.”
Yuck. Being in love has made him all gooey in the center; he recalls the days where he’d cursed out and kicked and screamed at the striker in front of him longingly.
There’s a knowing look on Isagi’s face, like Ness’s train of thought has stationed in his brain somehow. In a desperate attempt at distracting him, Ness presses his toes into Isagi’s bulge, an almost imperceptible push. Isagi lets out a small groan, his wrist flying up to snatch his ankle, halting his movements. And… has he always been able to wrap his entire hand around it?
That shouldn’t be so sexy to Ness, but alas, it’s Isagi.
“If you say so, Alexis,” he says lowly, his weighted gaze lingering on Ness’s foot in his grip. Is he thinking the same? Then, offhandedly, “I like these.”
Ness wiggles his toes, basking in the sudden attention. “My feet? What a freak…”
“Well, yeah. But I meant these,” his hand slides up, tugging at the ruffle in Ness’s white ankle socks. The soft touch sends a shiver up Ness’s spine. “They’re all frilly… it’s cute. It suits you.”
Oh.
Screw being angry. Ness wants to fuck him.
Ride him ‘till he cries, swallow up all the come in his body and leave him all hollow inside. Have Isagi pound him into his mattress until it caves in on them. Whatever. He just needs him inside him, now. Any hole will do.
He shivers, feeling warm all over from the casual way Isagi compliments him. Like it’s as easy as breathing, and not a chore.
God, what does that say about his self esteem?
“It’s set in this world where people coexist alongside these different devils with different strengths and abilities. Each devil is only as strong as people’s fear of them, though,” he starts to explain, thumb rubbing gentle circles into the sensitive arch of Ness’s foot.
“So, if there was, like, a feet devil…?” Ness tries to keep the moan out of his voice. His clit is throbbing.
Isagi grins at him, all teeth. Ness is suddenly yanked down the cushions as Isagi pretends to cover his eyes with his feet. “Oh, I'm so scared. Please don’t hunt me down and step on me.”
So corny, it’s disgusting. Ness traps his thumb between his teeth in an attempt to suppress a childish giggle. It doesn’t work.
“Too late, pervert,” he whispers, pressing his toes into Isagi’s forehead. Ness feels the pucker of lips through the fabric, ticklish in a way that makes his bones writhe under his skin. There’s an exaggerated inhale from Isagi, as if breathing in Ness’s scent, then an equally exaggerated groan.
Aw, ew. Ness has been walking around the house in those all day, even wore them on his grocery store run earlier. They can not smell good.
“Yoichi,” He sits up on his elbows and lowers his legs back to Isagi’s chest for a better look. “Don’t tell me you’re really into that.”
“Shh. I’m reading, Alexis.”
Sure enough, he’s got the book pulled back open, shoved into his face once again. Ness smacks his lips. Props his head on the cushioned backrest and crosses his arms.
What does he look like giving up that easily?
Slowly, teasingly, Ness drags one of his feet down the length of Isagi’s slouched body. One tap to the space between his legs confirms it.
Isagi is definitely into his feet.
How did he not know that? There’s not many kinks of his that Ness hadn’t already sniffed out and exploited. This is probably the milder of many.
Then again, if he really thinks about it, scours the depths of his mind—he recalls their second official date, where he asked Isagi what his first impression of him was.
“Flexible ankles,” he’d said, without a second's hesitation, and continued slurping his taro milk tea.
Ness blinked at him, his chewing on one of the popping boba balls coming to a stuttered halt. “What?” He asked through a mouthful of lychee flavoring.
“You have great ankles. They move like jelly on the field. Must be how you pull off all those brilliant passes.”
Well… he wasn’t expecting Isagi to say it was love at first sight—he would’ve had to beat him bloody for lying. But his ankles…? Ness also has a really nice ass and thighs…
“Hey, don’t make that face. Wanna know my second impression?”
“Hmm?”
“Man, this puppy can bark…”
He dodged the first Jagarico, but the second one smacked him dead in his dumb, smug face.
So maybe the signs were there. But an ankle fascination isn’t the same as a foot fetish. Or maybe they go hand in hand? Maybe Isagi’s just so freaky he couldn’t simply stop at the feet, he has to have the ankles and the thighs too. Probably even the calves, with how many times he’s bitten and licked Ness’s during missionary.
Oblivious to the spiral he’s sent Ness down, Isagi continues skimming and flipping pages, his brows furrowed and lips pouted in concentration. Cute. His hand’s absently stroking Ness’s leg, featherlight. Probably doesn’t even know he’s doing it. Hot.
Biting down on his lip, Ness rubs the hardening outline of Isagi. Slowly, up and down, just feeling him out. Isagi lets out a sigh, and that’s it. Doesn’t give him any other reaction.
No way. Is there fucking crack in Chainsaw Man or what? Maybe he’ll have Isagi read it to him later, when he can actually stand to look at the books again. After it’s well established that Ness is a superior way for Isagi to occupy his free time.
Determined now, Ness digs in harder, applying as much pressure as he would if he was giving Isagi a handy. He feels Isagi’s bulge twitch and thicken against his foot and he kneads it through his shorts, tantalizingly slow. Ness keeps his eyes on Isagi’s face, waiting to lap up any shift in expression.
When he reaches the outline of his tip, Ness slightly curls his toes to grip it, all too familiar with its sensitivity, and Isagi’s lips part with a soft, low noise. The foot that’s resting on his hard chest gets a loving tap, and hope rises from Ness’s belly—
He turns the page.
“Yoichi.”
“Hm?”
Ness brings his other foot down, just like how he sometimes has to wrap both his hands around Isagi’s cock to fully engulf the length and girth. God, he can feel his panties getting damper already. If not for the feel of his boyfriend against his feet, then the act itself.
“Can I take your cock out?”
The whir of the air conditioning fills the silence.
Ness gives the slightest kick to Isagi’s hard crotch.
“Ow—? Yeah, baby. Whatever you want,” he shifts, sinking further into the cushion. Turns the fucking page. “Be gentle with those feet.”
Ness blanches at the casual command. Hates the way his first instinct is to bark out a yes, sir, I’m sorry…
He stops himself, because Isagi’s unbelievable. He probably doesn’t even know what he just consented to, too caught up in whatever’s happening on those stupid pages.
It’s fine, Ness will just have to up the ante. He’ll get Isagi’s attention on him if it’s the last thing he does. Not that he’s particularly used to having to compete against ink on paper, but he thrives on challenge.
Putting all those years of strength training to use, Ness fidgets with the loose waistband of Isagi’s shorts, bent on trying to maneuver them off without using his hands. It’s simple. Isagi likes his legs and his ankles and his feet, so he’ll give him even more reason to.
And then…
Ness realizes two things at once.
One: he’s proud to confirm he is quite dexterous, because he’s able to get the shorts down enough to free Isagi’s thick, stiff cock before he feels a strain or the hint of a cramp.
Two: Isagi’s not wearing any underwear underneath his shorts.
“What a whore…” he whispers under his breath, after he swallows the saliva that pools in his mouth at the sight, of course. It’s completely Pavlovian—not his fault his boyfriend has him so well trained.
It’s just so pretty, an angry red flush to it, curving upwards like gravity can’t handle its weight.
Ness used to loathe Isagi’s dick, mostly because of who it was attached to, and how many people seemed to be vying for it. He just had to try it for himself, see what the hype was all about, and there was no going back after that. It was dangerous, and Isagi knew it, wielded it like a weapon.
All of Ness’s sense had gotten successfully pounded out of him, and the hatred along with it. Sick and unfair, just how perfect it was. An annoying little nuisance with unimaginably good dick, put on Earth specifically to torture Ness.
They’d become so well acquainted over the years, it’s like a friend to him now.
Ness touches the veiny shaft with the ball of his foot, then gasps at the feeling of warm, silky skin.
“Ah, baby…” Isagi’s looking now, leering down when Ness starts stroking him again.
“Oh, don’t mind me,” Ness does the toe-cupping thing again, and this time he feels the stickiness of Isagi’s pre leak through his socks. He would be upset if he hadn’t already decided Isagi was buying him another pair. Or two or three. “Just keep reading.”
“Hah…? Are you mad at me?” Isagi is a genius, really. His brain should be donated to science and studied. Ness applies more pressure, grinning when Isagi hisses. “Is this my punishment?”
Ness ignores how ridiculous he makes it sound. Yes, he’s punishing his unappreciative boyfriend by stroking his dick with his feet. Keep up, stupid Yoichi…
“Clueless Yoichi, this is what I have to do for you to look at me?” He asks, a bit breathlessly. Isagi’s hands grab hold of his ankles again, the book falling flat on his chest then sliding to the floor. There’s something poetic about that. “You were too busy to come eat the dinner I made for us, but you’re sure paying attention now. You only respond with your dick, don’t you? Is that all you have to offer me??”
Isagi groans, faintly bucks into the rough strokes, holding Ness’s feet together to make the glide tighter. “You’re… gah, such a greedy little puppy, Alexis. I’m not even allowed to read now? Need all my attention, all the time?”
Well, yes… duh. Of course. So much so that he’s willing to stoop to such measures—
(Not that Ness is adverse to a little feet play. He couldn’t say he was familiar or well versed in it at all, he honestly didn’t see the appeal until all of ten minutes ago, but, come on, they're footballers. It’s a little on the nose, now that he thinks about it.)
—of giving him a footjob just to ensnare his mind, his eyes, his affection again. So what? Is he complaining?
“No, that’s fine,” he turns his nose up, bratty, even as he lets Isagi hump his feet. “Do whatever you want. See how you feel with no pussy for a month.”
That threat just tumbles out before he can stop it, formulated by the underlying, sizzling rage inside of Ness. Before it dawns on him that that would mean no dick for a month. He can’t even last 48 hours without it. Pure torture. His pussy clenches around nothing in protest.
“Alexis, don’t be so hasty,” Isagi follows this up with a nervous laugh, his voice pitching high. “You won’t… can’t keep that from me.”
“I can and will,” he says with all the sternness he can muster, and to emphasize just how true that is, slides his feet off of Isagi’s dick. He settles them at his navel, just above his spongy tip. “Go back to your manga. Chainsaw Man is waiting.”
“Alexis,” Isagi’s sigh is exasperated, like this is all such a big inconvenience. A little bump in the road on the way to his release. “What do you want? I’ll burn the fucking book, just help me come. Please, puppy?”
It’s not very often that Isagi Yoichi begs. Ness feels strung out and high on power. Step one: conquer Isagi Yoichi. Step two: take over the world.
He chews on his thumb again, thinking, watching Isagi’s hips stutter…
“Say you need me to come,” is all he can think of.
“I do. Any part of you, I could get off to anything, just let me have it,” Isagi brings his feet to his mouth for another kiss, gives him those eyes. “Be so useful for me? You’re all mine…”
Ness starts to feel like crying, really. He’ll never get tired of hearing those words in any context Isagi delivers them—the way they seem to wrap around his whole body and squeeze, filling him with glitter and warmth and purpose. He belongs to Isagi.
“Of course I’m yours. I love you,” he’s so touched it wobbles his voice and pinches at his eyes.
“So sweet, Alexis. Show me how much.”
This is how Isagi Yoichi sets his traps. That low, sweet boyfriend voice, those gorgeous big eyes, looking at him like he’s the only person in the world ever. It makes Isagi appear like he can never do wrong, harbors no dark, ulterior motives. Ness knows better. He promises he does.
“Not yet…” he tries not to fall in, but the look in Isagi’s eyes—so dilated there’s hardly any of that blue Ness loves so much—makes him want to hand himself over on a platter and just let the beast in him fucking feast. He’s going to cave so fast, it’s shameful. “You’ll only pay attention to me the rest of the night? And tomorrow?”
It sounds so needy, you’d never guess he was attempting to dominate him.
“I’m all yours. You have my full attention. Especially these perfect legs, god,” Isagi lifts one, pressing a kiss to the protruding bone of Ness’s ankle through the thin fabric. It’s ticklish, makes him squirm and swallow down a giggle. It’s even worse when he darts his tongue out to lick the sensitive flesh.
Spurred on by his responsiveness, Ness continues, gasping a little. “You’re so obsessed with me, you’ll come from just my feet, Yoichi?”
”Fuck, yeah. I’d be lucky to.” He ruts his dick into Ness’s calves that are still pressed to his lap. “The best in the league, right? Gonna let me defile them? Paint them in my cum?”
Shit. The mental image of Isagi’s hot ropes of cum being sprayed all over Ness’s feet nearly shatters any resolve he has left. Maybe his freakish boyfriend is onto something…
”Don’t know…” he attempts to sound troubled while clearly basking in the assault of kisses, licks and nips to his ankles, the desperate furrow of Isagi’s brow. He might be the first person in history to end up with hickeys on his calves and ankles. “These have made me millions, you know? Cant be too careless with them.”
“Let me take care of them, baby, please. Make them feel so good, only I can,” all wounded puppy, glowy eyes. The way his thumbs dig into his calves, kneading the soft give of his flesh, suggests he’ll be anything but gentle though. “They deserve to be worshipped, Alexis.”
He can’t argue with that.
Ness relents, nods, moans out a breathless please, come here…
He folds pliantly as Isagi spreads his legs, can practically feel the stars and hearts in his own eyes as he settles in between them, his face hovering just centimeters away. Ness puckers his lips for a sweet peck, one that Isagi happily gives him. One that Isagi forces into something deeper, dirtier, gripping Ness’s chin and forcing his mouth open for his tongue to lick into. Ness tastes his own scented lotion, artificial vanilla and peach.
A feral growl is poured into his mouth, Isagi’s hands traveling down the length of him to squeeze his thighs so hard it stings, stings so good. His hips rut into Ness’s pussy, heated skin against his clothed, damp folds, and Ness tangles his fingers in his silky hair, tugs like he’s taming an eager dog.
Ness pulls away to see the damage, and oh, he’s always loved how Isagi looks with his fringe down and messy. So mature and sexy.
“What’s got Yoichi so worked up?” He wonders, though he knows.
“Don’t play coy…” Isagi breathes and it sounds like a disbelieving laugh, his face burrowing into the crook of Ness’s neck. His other hand weaves into his mess of curls, yanking slightly at the root. Then, the deliberate press of his hard, exposed cock to the inside of Ness’s thigh—he gasps. “You know exactly what you’re doing.”
“You’re so hard for me, baby,” he laughs, attempts to rock his hips up, chasing his shaft with his pussy. He’s uncomfortably wet now and feeling neglected. “Put it inside.”
Isagi nods his head and leans back up.
Before Ness’s lust-clouded brain can make sense of what’s happening, his legs are being hiked up above his head and pressed together at the ankle. The thick, biteable muscle of Isagi’s bicep bulges from the strain, using just one hand to keep them locked there.
Ness feels him rub the heated tip of his cock along the backs of his thighs, leaving behind smears of pre. He groans. “No, not there, Yoichi…”
“No?” He coos softly, meanly. “I thought you wanted me to cum like this?”
They gasp in tandem when Isagi’s hot cock slides between the tight crease in Ness’s plush thighs, forcing its way past the resistance. Parting and splitting them like it’s his pussy. Ness clenches them on instinct, clamping down around him, and his reward is the throaty moan Isagi lets ring.
“See? I’m just finishing what you started, baby.”
The sight is unnecessarily lewd, his tip peeking out from between his legs with every quick thrust, red and hot. And Ness lays there, takes it like a good puppy, lets Isagi rut into him and get his fill.
“These legs are magic—fuck. Distract me so much when we practice,” he’s panting, smearing his pearlescent pre all over Ness’s tanned thighs. “I want you to—ah—suffocate me with these fat thighs next, okay? You’ll sit on my face and let me make it up to you, won’t you, Alexis?”
Ness’s pussy tingles like there’s stars in them in response. He stretches out on the couch, baring his belly button like a dog asking for rubs. “Mmm, yes. Need to ride on your tongue, it’s been so long.”
“Yeah? I miss you feeding me—uhn uhn uhn,” Isagi’s skilled hips drive his fat dick in and out, the slick sound of it filling the space between them. “So soft, Alexis. How’re you so soft?”
Ness is a little offended by how surprised Isagi sounds. He does not play about moisturizing—Isagi knows this. He’s bought him countless refills of his outrageously priced body oils and lotions, has massaged them into every crevice of his body himself.
A bite to the meat of his calf knocks all the thoughts out of him.
“Lift your shirt up. Play with your tits while I fuck your thighs.”
“Oh, yeah,” he moans out, because why didn’t he think of that? He hikes up the loose fabric, exposing more soft skin and chiseled lines to Isagi’s greedy, predatory eyes. His gaze holds physical weight, sinking into Ness’s skin while he feels up his own stomach, teasingly thumbing his hardened nipples. “Want me to put on a show for you, Yoichi?”
“Want you to get my pussy wet for me,” he corrects, but he isn’t exactly looking away. In fact, he brings the bundle of Ness’s legs to the side for a better view, lifting them higher so his thick ass is on display underneath his short shorts too. If Ness was any less flexible, he’d be struggling to breathe now. “God, you don’t have to try, baby. Don’t have to do anything. You’re already so sexy, just made for me to use you.”
Ness whimpers, pinching his nipples between his fingers as he cups his protruding pectorals—his tits. He never stops looking at Isagi’s face, contorting in pleasure and reciprocating the stare with reverence. Isagi’s a dream he doesn’t want to wake up from, everything he has ever needed or wanted. Ness is afraid he’ll disappear if he diverts his gaze for a second.
And he’s being so good for him, letting him use him like this, making him feel so good. The thought makes tears pinch his eyes once more, blurring his vision.
Isagi leans up to stroke the fluffy curls from Ness’s forehead, the hot and heavy pressure of his cock still pumping in and out of his slick thighs. “Don’t know how I got so caught up in something else when all of this was right here waiting for me,” he coos, knowing exactly what Ness wants to hear—the bastard.
Isagi reads him like a book on and off the field, and the feeling of being so spread open and known, but still cherished and accepted, is something he never wants to go without, hooked on the slightest taste of it.
Hot kisses and the bulk of a tongue are pressed to Ness’s calf, and then Isagi’s teeth are clamping around the frill of his socks and pulling them off with a snarl. So beastial, so sexy~ ♡
“Ah, there we go,” his voice is husky, cloying honey in his ears. “Germany’s little moneymakers, yeah?”
Before Ness can respond, Isagi licks a broad stripe from his ankle to the sole of his foot, and turns his brain and body into useless static.
“Yoichi…!”
One of his polished toes is sucked into his warm, wet mouth then, and mmm, ahh—Ness didn’t know his feet were this sensitive, the pleasure ripples all the way up his leg, flooding his stomach. The tight clench of his thighs provides a delicious friction to his throbbing, aching pussy, and Ness lets a loud moan rip as he digs his nails into his puffy nipples.
“Feels so good, Yoichi, hng— feels like I’m gonna—”
“Don’t,” he says, slapping his ass in warning. The sharp sound cuts through the air, and it stings so good, adding to the euphoria coursing throughout Ness’s body in burning undulations. “You’re cumming on my face, right after I—fuck—paint these cute thighs.”
He’s getting close, Ness can tell. His rhythm is bordering on frantic, doggish, his breathing heavy. “Ready for it, puppy?”
“Mmm—always. Yoichi, I love when you use your puppy to come,” Ness is moaning more than coherently speaking, squeezing tighter around his cock in an attempt to milk it out. “Give it to me — need it, please!!”
Isagi curses, abandoning his worshipping of Ness’s toes in favor of watching the noisy glide of his cock between the plush meat of Ness’s thighs.
“You can feed it to me when you’re done, fuck it into my mouth, smear it all over my pussy so you can taste yourself inside me. Taste the mark you left…”
Pulling him closer with a hand to his hip, Ness feels the heavy press of his taut balls to his asscheeks, and that seems to do him in. Isagi shoves in all the way, grinding his balls against Ness’s ass. Tightening his grip on his ankles enough to bruise, he groans out his name, and spills all over his thighs and stomach.
Ness sighs, heavy and content, like he was the one who came instead. He knows that’s not too far from his grasp, though. If the hungry way Isagi’s eyes are watching his cum leak into the divots of Ness’s abs are anything to go off of—he’s gonna get eaten off the bone.
Just to rub salt on the wound, Ness gathers up some of his sticky release from his bellybutton presses it into his mouth, moaning like a whore at the salty taste of Isagi.
“You’re insatiable, ‘s so hot,” Isagi shakes his head. It feels like he’s a little mad about it. Ness wants to be punished for it. “I should ignore you more often.”
Ness gasps, scandalized, and uses his legs to push him backwards onto the couch. He mounts him in one swift movement, making quick work of removing his shorts and panties. “You’re gonna eat those words, little Yoichi.”
“You promise? I’m starving…”
And, well. They’ll just have to reheat the food when they’re done.