[he knows exactly what he just asked. part of him is growling at himself over it, having done his damnest not to allow the simple hormones of a teenager to run roughshod over the intent to get cleaned up, get something to eat, and go the fuck to bed. goddammit, who the hell is he kidding? denji has the gall to taunt him for being a teenager or not, and he's fucking right. standing here in the open, naked and dripping, the half-devil's a piece of art, and katsuki's eyes traipse from one area to the next. beads of water down his shoulder, glistening trails wandering the valley between his abs, a droplet clinging to the top of his knee, hair damp from the handful of water a few minutes ago, eyes smoldering and hot, a horny handsome unblemished mess of a teenage boyfriend who tosses the notion of dinner over sex right out the fucking window. dinner. right. katsuki's lost his own patience with this battle. as much as he likes to growl about being an adult and snarling when people call him a kid, he's still a red-blooded teenager.
winding one end of the towel in his fist, slowly and deliberately, he draws the fabric hook, and thus denji's broad shoulders, an inch or two closer. captured body, arrested attention, does this asshole realize that he's not immune to his feelings either? denji's still body, frozen eyes, he wants to kiss that half-hung mouth and pump some damn life back into his boyfriend's stupor. it's kind of cute, a simple action like this being enough to put his brain on shell shock.
they've been separated too long. he knows the trauma and fear bred from that ominous day. fuck it! that's in the past, he already said denji would never hurt him in his right mind. it could have been the other way around. he wouldn't care about this boy as much as he did if he let something as stupid as a brainwashed attack stop him from wanting to be with his boyfriend. hands catch him on either side of his head and his eyes narrow in interest, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in a bare smirk of challenge. did that rile him up? good. because if denji didn't act on it, katsuki had every intention to. he presses into the kiss with the same kind of force, pulls his arms and the towel towards him to drag the other blonde flush into his body. a hot kiss, messy with a drip of saliva from the corner of his mouth as he tilts his head and twists his tongue around denji's slick muscle. sharp teeth ghost across the glassy underside of his tongue as he plunges it into his boyfriend's lower jaw, then back up to batter and wrestle the moving muscle.
kissing him even as they move, a low grunt puffing through the lip lock as his back hits the wall. fuck, denji's always been taller than him, duh, but there are times it's made intensely obvious as broad shoulders and toned muscle pin him against the surface behind him. chest to chest, abs flexing along abs, legs tangled slightly in promise of getting really entwined soon enough. fuck this towel; it's in the way. dropped, forgotten, tough-skinned palms now wandering over denji's shoulders, fingers dragging over the angular blades on either side of his spine. touching, roving. more.]
I don't care where. [a hot growl, needy and demanding, half ready to make the decision himself and pounce this bastard into the nearest surface around them. so long as he makes a fucking move! his entire body feels lit aflame, breath coming heavier, blood rushing across his cheeks, the majority of it pooling between his legs as he rubs against denji's hips in horny ruts. he almost-- almost --resist when denji nudges his shoulder, urging him to turn around, but does so because fuck it, he wants this almost more than he can think right now. fingers grip the edge of the sink, muscular shoulders flexing as he braces over the curved dip in the little counter and leans over it. the slope of his back ripples with well-trained definitions, trailing down to his narrow waist and the toned swell of his ass. he can see himself in the mirror, but isn't looking on purpose, not wanting to see the pure lust etched on his face at the moment.
hands slide over his waist, playing with the curve of his pelvis and the starting rim of his glutes. a breathless noise rumbles past his lips, red eyes finally glaring into the reflective surface in front of him. not to see himself, but to see his boyfriend standing behind him, shoulders rocking a bit as he settles in like that, ripcord swaying telltale in the middle of his pretty pecs.]
Haa? I'm never a fucking pillow prince, you dick! [not until he's fucked into a stupor and his arms and legs stop working that is. otherwise, he's as animated as fuck, raking the sheets and grabbing onto denji wherever he can get to. he really ought to reach behind him and fist that bastard's balls for the comment.] Nh... [a finger, just the tip, probing between his cheeks and pushing against his rim. it only takes a second, water-soaked warm muscle parting around the digit's end, and denji's inside. he clenches down on it instinctively, tight ring giving way to a sucking channel of muscle that wants to push him out as much as katsuki wants him to stay in. denji does more than stay in, he pushes right through-] Guh! [knuckle shoved against his hole, a squelch of spit (when the fuck did he lick his finger?) squishing between ring and bone. he arches up on the balls of his feet for a second, fingers rippling on the sink rim, then eases back down to his soles once more.] You got two minutes... before I shove it in for you.
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winding one end of the towel in his fist, slowly and deliberately, he draws the fabric hook, and thus denji's broad shoulders, an inch or two closer. captured body, arrested attention, does this asshole realize that he's not immune to his feelings either? denji's still body, frozen eyes, he wants to kiss that half-hung mouth and pump some damn life back into his boyfriend's stupor. it's kind of cute, a simple action like this being enough to put his brain on shell shock.
they've been separated too long. he knows the trauma and fear bred from that ominous day. fuck it! that's in the past, he already said denji would never hurt him in his right mind. it could have been the other way around. he wouldn't care about this boy as much as he did if he let something as stupid as a brainwashed attack stop him from wanting to be with his boyfriend. hands catch him on either side of his head and his eyes narrow in interest, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in a bare smirk of challenge. did that rile him up? good. because if denji didn't act on it, katsuki had every intention to. he presses into the kiss with the same kind of force, pulls his arms and the towel towards him to drag the other blonde flush into his body. a hot kiss, messy with a drip of saliva from the corner of his mouth as he tilts his head and twists his tongue around denji's slick muscle. sharp teeth ghost across the glassy underside of his tongue as he plunges it into his boyfriend's lower jaw, then back up to batter and wrestle the moving muscle.
kissing him even as they move, a low grunt puffing through the lip lock as his back hits the wall. fuck, denji's always been taller than him, duh, but there are times it's made intensely obvious as broad shoulders and toned muscle pin him against the surface behind him. chest to chest, abs flexing along abs, legs tangled slightly in promise of getting really entwined soon enough. fuck this towel; it's in the way. dropped, forgotten, tough-skinned palms now wandering over denji's shoulders, fingers dragging over the angular blades on either side of his spine. touching, roving. more.]
I don't care where. [a hot growl, needy and demanding, half ready to make the decision himself and pounce this bastard into the nearest surface around them. so long as he makes a fucking move! his entire body feels lit aflame, breath coming heavier, blood rushing across his cheeks, the majority of it pooling between his legs as he rubs against denji's hips in horny ruts. he almost-- almost --resist when denji nudges his shoulder, urging him to turn around, but does so because fuck it, he wants this almost more than he can think right now. fingers grip the edge of the sink, muscular shoulders flexing as he braces over the curved dip in the little counter and leans over it. the slope of his back ripples with well-trained definitions, trailing down to his narrow waist and the toned swell of his ass. he can see himself in the mirror, but isn't looking on purpose, not wanting to see the pure lust etched on his face at the moment.
hands slide over his waist, playing with the curve of his pelvis and the starting rim of his glutes. a breathless noise rumbles past his lips, red eyes finally glaring into the reflective surface in front of him. not to see himself, but to see his boyfriend standing behind him, shoulders rocking a bit as he settles in like that, ripcord swaying telltale in the middle of his pretty pecs.]
Haa? I'm never a fucking pillow prince, you dick! [not until he's fucked into a stupor and his arms and legs stop working that is. otherwise, he's as animated as fuck, raking the sheets and grabbing onto denji wherever he can get to. he really ought to reach behind him and fist that bastard's balls for the comment.] Nh... [a finger, just the tip, probing between his cheeks and pushing against his rim. it only takes a second, water-soaked warm muscle parting around the digit's end, and denji's inside. he clenches down on it instinctively, tight ring giving way to a sucking channel of muscle that wants to push him out as much as katsuki wants him to stay in. denji does more than stay in, he pushes right through-] Guh! [knuckle shoved against his hole, a squelch of spit (when the fuck did he lick his finger?) squishing between ring and bone. he arches up on the balls of his feet for a second, fingers rippling on the sink rim, then eases back down to his soles once more.] You got two minutes... before I shove it in for you.