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one inch from the edge of this bed
POINTLESS PORN OF OUR OTP THAT ONLY WE SHIP BECAUSE WE BOTH FEEL LIKE SHIT TODAY
set during some other national championship idk
"You know, I'm pretty sure we're not supposed to do this in the locker room. In fact, I can hear Shin-chan's glasses cracking already." If he were to walk in on Takao and Murasakibara standing too close to be anything but intimate in the empty locker room, with Murasakibara's hands pushing Takao's shirt up. "How did you even find me, anyway?"
"That's why Mido-chin's boring," is all Murasakibara says in response, before kissing Takao square on the mouth, long and slow and lewd. He tightens his grip on Takao and Takao goes weak at the knees, clinging to Murasakibara's jersey, eyes closing involuntarily.
"Wait, wait just one second, Atsushi--" Takao's breathless, half laughing as he speaks, and he squirms in Murasakibara's grasp. Ah, really? He wants to do it here? Well...
"Huh? Why should I?" Murasakibara frowns at him, leaning in to kiss Takao again, lips landing on the corner of his mouth. Close enough.
"Don't you have a match soon?" Translation: shouldn't you be with your team? Really, this guy has no sense of responsibility whatsoever.
"In a bit." Right now, he's preoccupied with pulling down Takao's shorts, thumbs dragging over the arch of Takao's hip bones and hooking along the band of his underwear to expose his cock. "Are you going to watch us play, Kazu-chin?" he asks, before licking his lips and taking the head into his mouth sloppily.
"Ah-- I-"
The lockers rattle as Takao backs into them, hands tangling into Murasakibara's hair as he goes to town on him, working over his dick until Takao's more than half hard and shivering in Murasakibara's grasp, his hips arching involuntarily against the heat of his mouth.
Murasakibara absently pulls Takao closer by hooking an arm around the back of his thighs, kneading his ass with his free hand idly. He likes the way Takao tries to hold back his voice when he sucks on him just a little too hard and tongues the slit of his head, so he does it again and again, until the only sound echoing in the dark room is the wet sound of his mouth on Takao's cock, and Takao's harsh breathing.
"Wow, Kazu-chin really likes it here..." Murasakibara's mouth is swollen red, his eyes lazy and pupils dilated. "Right?" He drags his tongue along the underside and kisses the tip and watches Takao as he does it.
"Yeah," Takao gasps, pushing dishevelled strands of hair away from Murasakibara's face. He's sweating, and he can feel the flush already heating his face growing hotter. "Come on, Atsushi, don't tease."
"I'm not teasing," Murasakibara says, pressing kisses along the inside of Takao's thighs, leaving a mark here and there. He strokes his fingers over him again, cupping his balls. "Anyway, did you hear me earlier? I asked if you're gonna watch the next match, but you didn't answer."
"I am, so you better win--!!" And get on with it. Growing impatient, Takao groans and tugs at his hair insistently.
Satisfied, Murasakibara doesn't answer. Not out loud, anyway. He wraps his mouth around Takao again, bobbing his head over his cock rhythmically, sucking noisily. Takao throws his arm over his eyes, unable to keep watching Murasakibara watch him and oh god
"Yes yes yes right there, Atsushi I-"
He holds Takao down by the hips, intent on drawing Takao's orgasm and possibly his brains right out from his cock even as Takao tries to buck deeper into his mouth while he cums. Despite Murasakibara's best efforts, Takao slowly slides to his knees as Murasakibara draws back from him, swallowing and making a face. He's panting, his body shaking and he jolts when Murasakibara sinks down between his knees and licks the head of his cock once, twice more.
Murasakibara pulls back and sits on his haunches, looking at Takao with a clearly self satisfied look on his face. "So even Kazu-chin can look erotic."
"It's your fault," he says, and then adds, "What was that for?"
"I was hungry," Murasakibara answers. He stands up slowly, stretching with a faint crack of bones. "I'm not anymore, and I guess I should go win that match for you to see. So don't be late, okay!"
Takao laughs, and leans back against the lockers with a grin. "Of course not. I'll see you there."
set during some other national championship idk
"You know, I'm pretty sure we're not supposed to do this in the locker room. In fact, I can hear Shin-chan's glasses cracking already." If he were to walk in on Takao and Murasakibara standing too close to be anything but intimate in the empty locker room, with Murasakibara's hands pushing Takao's shirt up. "How did you even find me, anyway?"
"That's why Mido-chin's boring," is all Murasakibara says in response, before kissing Takao square on the mouth, long and slow and lewd. He tightens his grip on Takao and Takao goes weak at the knees, clinging to Murasakibara's jersey, eyes closing involuntarily.
"Wait, wait just one second, Atsushi--" Takao's breathless, half laughing as he speaks, and he squirms in Murasakibara's grasp. Ah, really? He wants to do it here? Well...
"Huh? Why should I?" Murasakibara frowns at him, leaning in to kiss Takao again, lips landing on the corner of his mouth. Close enough.
"Don't you have a match soon?" Translation: shouldn't you be with your team? Really, this guy has no sense of responsibility whatsoever.
"In a bit." Right now, he's preoccupied with pulling down Takao's shorts, thumbs dragging over the arch of Takao's hip bones and hooking along the band of his underwear to expose his cock. "Are you going to watch us play, Kazu-chin?" he asks, before licking his lips and taking the head into his mouth sloppily.
"Ah-- I-"
The lockers rattle as Takao backs into them, hands tangling into Murasakibara's hair as he goes to town on him, working over his dick until Takao's more than half hard and shivering in Murasakibara's grasp, his hips arching involuntarily against the heat of his mouth.
Murasakibara absently pulls Takao closer by hooking an arm around the back of his thighs, kneading his ass with his free hand idly. He likes the way Takao tries to hold back his voice when he sucks on him just a little too hard and tongues the slit of his head, so he does it again and again, until the only sound echoing in the dark room is the wet sound of his mouth on Takao's cock, and Takao's harsh breathing.
"Wow, Kazu-chin really likes it here..." Murasakibara's mouth is swollen red, his eyes lazy and pupils dilated. "Right?" He drags his tongue along the underside and kisses the tip and watches Takao as he does it.
"Yeah," Takao gasps, pushing dishevelled strands of hair away from Murasakibara's face. He's sweating, and he can feel the flush already heating his face growing hotter. "Come on, Atsushi, don't tease."
"I'm not teasing," Murasakibara says, pressing kisses along the inside of Takao's thighs, leaving a mark here and there. He strokes his fingers over him again, cupping his balls. "Anyway, did you hear me earlier? I asked if you're gonna watch the next match, but you didn't answer."
"I am, so you better win--!!" And get on with it. Growing impatient, Takao groans and tugs at his hair insistently.
Satisfied, Murasakibara doesn't answer. Not out loud, anyway. He wraps his mouth around Takao again, bobbing his head over his cock rhythmically, sucking noisily. Takao throws his arm over his eyes, unable to keep watching Murasakibara watch him and oh god
"Yes yes yes right there, Atsushi I-"
He holds Takao down by the hips, intent on drawing Takao's orgasm and possibly his brains right out from his cock even as Takao tries to buck deeper into his mouth while he cums. Despite Murasakibara's best efforts, Takao slowly slides to his knees as Murasakibara draws back from him, swallowing and making a face. He's panting, his body shaking and he jolts when Murasakibara sinks down between his knees and licks the head of his cock once, twice more.
Murasakibara pulls back and sits on his haunches, looking at Takao with a clearly self satisfied look on his face. "So even Kazu-chin can look erotic."
"It's your fault," he says, and then adds, "What was that for?"
"I was hungry," Murasakibara answers. He stands up slowly, stretching with a faint crack of bones. "I'm not anymore, and I guess I should go win that match for you to see. So don't be late, okay!"
Takao laughs, and leans back against the lockers with a grin. "Of course not. I'll see you there."