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scriveynerTitle: our resistance
Fandom: Samurai Flamenco
Characters/Pairing: Gotou/Masayoshi
Rating: NSFW/E
Length: 361
Summary:
“You’re particularly forward today,” Gotou murmured as Masayoshi straddled his lap. Masayoshi was already blushing, arms resting on Gotou’s shoulders, and Gotou brushed his thumb over Masayoshi’s hip, feeling the warmth of his bare flesh where his shirt rode up past the waist of his trousers.
Masayoshi leaned forward, so that Gotou’s face was pressed into his shirt and he could no longer see Masayoshi’s face. “Do you like it?” he asked, the faintest hint of a stutter in his voice. “When I’m forward…?”
He wasn’t at quite the right angle in Gotou’s lap to feel how enthusiastic Gotou’s lower half was about this development, so Gotou had to rumble an affirmative into Masayoshi’s shirt. Masayoshi’s hands pulled tighter in the fabric of Gotou’s shirt, his breath was hot against Gotou’s ear as he asked haltingly, “can I fuck you?”
Maybe it was a good thing that his face was pressed into Masayoshi’s shirt because Gotou was pretty sure he just invented a new shade of red. Gotou wet his lips, hands tight and firm on Masayoshi’s hips; slender and easy to hold and so familiar. Masayoshi wriggled a little, clearly concerned at Gotou’s lack of reaction. “Gotou-san?”
The thought of Masayoshi pressing him down into the mattress was not without appeal, though. Gotou lifted his head and looked up at Masayoshi, who had turned red as well at his request. “Maybe you need a little more practice?” he suggested, and Masayoshi glared down at him, brow furrowed.
“Please,” he insisted. “How can I get practice if you won’t let me? I want to-” he was cut off by Gotou kissing him, his eyes widened comically in surprise. “Gotou-san,” he said again, stubbornly, when they parted.
“Okay,” Gotou said, and Masayoshi kissed him again, barely able to contain his excitement.
Fandom: Samurai Flamenco
Characters/Pairing: Gotou/Masayoshi
Rating: NSFW/E
Length: 361
Summary:
“You’re particularly forward today,” Gotou murmured as Masayoshi straddled his lap. Masayoshi was already blushing, arms resting on Gotou’s shoulders, and Gotou brushed his thumb over Masayoshi’s hip, feeling the warmth of his bare flesh where his shirt rode up past the waist of his trousers.
Masayoshi leaned forward, so that Gotou’s face was pressed into his shirt and he could no longer see Masayoshi’s face. “Do you like it?” he asked, the faintest hint of a stutter in his voice. “When I’m forward…?”
He wasn’t at quite the right angle in Gotou’s lap to feel how enthusiastic Gotou’s lower half was about this development, so Gotou had to rumble an affirmative into Masayoshi’s shirt. Masayoshi’s hands pulled tighter in the fabric of Gotou’s shirt, his breath was hot against Gotou’s ear as he asked haltingly, “can I fuck you?”
Maybe it was a good thing that his face was pressed into Masayoshi’s shirt because Gotou was pretty sure he just invented a new shade of red. Gotou wet his lips, hands tight and firm on Masayoshi’s hips; slender and easy to hold and so familiar. Masayoshi wriggled a little, clearly concerned at Gotou’s lack of reaction. “Gotou-san?”
The thought of Masayoshi pressing him down into the mattress was not without appeal, though. Gotou lifted his head and looked up at Masayoshi, who had turned red as well at his request. “Maybe you need a little more practice?” he suggested, and Masayoshi glared down at him, brow furrowed.
“Please,” he insisted. “How can I get practice if you won’t let me? I want to-” he was cut off by Gotou kissing him, his eyes widened comically in surprise. “Gotou-san,” he said again, stubbornly, when they parted.
“Okay,” Gotou said, and Masayoshi kissed him again, barely able to contain his excitement.
