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Karasu frowns in annoyance as he stares down at his best friend, who flops down onto the couch in a dramatic display.
”Ughhh,” Otoya groans, squeezing his eyes shut in pain. “My back is killing me.”
Karasu crosses his arms. “That’s what happens when you try deadlifting with garbage form.”
“Excuse you,” Otoya gasps, scandalized. “My form is godlike.”
“Sure, man,” Karasu snorts, rolling his eyes.
But when Otoya lets out another dramatic sigh, he eventually gives in. Karasu never stood much of a chance to begin with, since Otoya had been involved from the start.
“D’ya want me to rub it out for ya?” Karasu asks before his brain is able to catch up to his mouth. He snaps said mouth shut with immediate regret when he realizes how suggestive that sounded. “I- I mean, yer back. The knot in yer back. I could give you a massage. Not, like-”
“You’re literally my savior, bro.” Otoya interrupts, not seeming to care about Karasu’s word vomit as he gives him a relieved smile.
Karasu walks over to the couch, rolling up his sleeves with confidence. “All good, man. I know what I’m doing.”
Otoya raises his eyebrow, his face half-covered as he yanks off his shirt. “Since when do you know shit about massages?” He plops down stomach-first onto the couch.
“Uh, since forever?” Karasu scoffs, straddling the backs of Otoya’s knees. “My sister used to make me give her massages after her volleyball practices, so I've been doing this since I was a kid. Nothing new for me.”
Otoya huffs out a laugh. “Work your magic, then, Doctor Karasu.”
Karasu grins as he places his hands on Otoya’s shoulders and begins working into the muscles, using his thumbs to apply firm pressure in practiced movements. It comes easily to Karasu, the familiarity of it all rushing back to him. He remembers the basic anatomy, where people carry tension, and how to release that tension from their bodies.
As Karasu’s hands gradually start moving lower, gliding down the warm expanse of Otoya’s back, Karasu feels how tense Otoya really is. Guess he wasn’t exaggerating. “God damn, yer tight.”
It isn’t until Otoya lets out a surprised laugh that Karasu realizes he just said something that could be a strong innuendo. He groans. It’s already the second time today he’s done that. “I meant-,” Karasu starts, but stops just as quickly. “Ugh. Ya know what I meant.”
“Mhhmm,” Otoya responds, annoyingly smug.
Karasu glares down at him but decides against saying anything more, choosing instead to drag his thumbs down either side of Otoya’s spine. He feels Otoya’s muscles tighten up under his palms before they give in, loosening up with each drag. Karasu slowly falls into focus, going into autopilot mode until Otoya lets out a breathy sound. And that’s when Karasu begins to malfunction just a bit.
That fucking sound.
Karasu’s hands still, thumbs hovering uselessly over Otoya’s back as his brain glitches.
Why the hell did he have to make a sound like that?
Karasu swallows and forces his hands to keep moving, working down the curve of Otoya’s spine, much slower now. Much more cautious now.
Otoya seems to be totally oblivious to Karasu’s panic right now, which is good, Karasu guesses. Or is it good? Because he feels his sanity quickly unraveling with each sigh Otoya lets out beneath him.
Karasu hones in on a tough knot near the small of Otoya’s back, kneading into it and trying to focus on anything other than the way Otoya’s skin feels so warm beneath his fingertips.
“Ya really are tense back here,” Karasu mutters, thankful that his voice comes out somewhat normal. “Super tight. All over.” He’s talking just to talk at this point and he wishes he could get himself to shut the fuck up somehow.
“Mmh. Yeah, right there,” Otoya hums blissfully. “This feels amazing, bro.”
Karasu instinctively tightens his grip at that, dragged out of his thoughts. His fingers must dig a little too hard into the muscle, though, because Otoya straight up moans and arches into Karasu’s hands like he needs more. The sound and sight go right to Karasu’s dick.
“Holy fuck,” Karasu breathes out, staring down at Otoya’s arching back with wide eyes. After all he gets back from Otoya is silence, he repeats what he just did, testing to see if he can draw that sound out of Otoya again. To his shock, Otoya lets out an even louder moan this time, arching further into Karasu’s hands.
“Jesus, dude,” Karasu pants, unable to hide how worn-out his voice sounds. He’s finding it hard to think, let alone breathe right now. All he can do is keep going, kneading into Otoya’s lower back like a man possessed, trying to solve some mystery hidden deep in Otoya’s muscles. He should really stop, but he just can’t bring himself to - not when every sound coming from Otoya’s mouth keeps spurring Karasu on further and further.
His palms drift down to Otoya’s hips, then lower, to the soft swell of his butt. He squeezes at the flesh experimentally, drawing a sharp gasp from Otoya. “Fuck, Karasu, you’re-” Otoya’s sentence cuts off into a whimper as Karasu firmly grabs his ass cheeks and spreads them, massaging his thumbs in circles. Otoya shifts beneath him, back rising with shaky, short breaths. His face is still buried in the pillow, but the embarrassed flush creeping up his neck is obvious.
Karasu’s hands hover at the edge of Otoya’s waistband, afraid to cross the unknown line and risk fucking this all up. Slowly, he lets his fingers slip under, dragging the fabric of Otoya’s shorts down just enough to expose the round curve of his ass.
Karasu moves without thinking, stuck in a lustful haze. He leans down and softly presses his lips to the dip of Otoya’s lower back. One kiss. One more. He flicks his tongue out, slowly licking a stripe up Otoya’s spine.
He feels Otoya jolt dramatically beneath him, letting out a muffled groan into the pillow. Karasu pulls back slightly, trying to gauge his friend’s reaction. Otoya’s face is hidden by the pillow but there’s no mistaking the way he’s arching his ass into the air, trying to bring himself closer to Karasu.
Karasu feels crazed as he grabs at Otoya’s ass cheeks again, spreading them and diving in. It’s like he has no control over his body, completely giving in to his dark urges as he licks wide over Otoya’s entrance.
“F-fuck, man!” Otoya cries out.
Karasu groans as he feels Otoya’s rim twitching against his tongue. This is the most turned on he’s ever been in his life, and he can’t even think of anything coming close. He licks him again, slower this time. Otoya whines loudly, his hips twitching helplessly beneath Karasu’s tight grip.
Karasu buries his face in between Otoya’s cheeks, tongue working to pull him apart from the seams. Otoya gasps as Karasu manages to push his tongue past the tight ring of muscle. He jerks his ass back against Karasu’s mouth, trying to take even more from him. Karasu starts flicking his tongue sharply, fucking it in and out of his hole.
The sound of Karasu’s slick tongue dragging along Otoya’s rim is so lewd - a wet slurp that echoes throughout the room as he continues to devour the boy beneath him. Each time Karasu pushes his tongue forward, Otoya clenches around him, creating a soft, squelching sound straight from Karasu’s deepest fantasies. Everything about Otoya is so intoxicating that Karasu feels like he’s eight beers in. He can’t get enough.
“Nghh, fuck,” Otoya moans as Karasu’s tongue fucks particularly deep into him. “Karasu, fuck, I-“
Karasu groans against him, flicking his tongue once more before finally pulling back with a heavy breath. He slides his hands back up Otoya’s ass instantly, thumbs tugging gently at his spit-slicked rim, puffy with need.
Otoya pushes his face further into the pillow, moving his hips back in a silent request.
Karasu doesn’t waste any time, taking his pointer finger and tracing gentle circles where his tongue had just been. He keeps teasing the rim, reveling in the feeling of Otoya shivering beneath him. Slowly, he pushes his finger inside. Tight, wet heat envelopes Karasu’s finger. He works his finger in gradually, watching for any and every reaction from Otoya.
As Karasu squeezes in a second finger, he hears Otoya suck in a pained breath. He freezes, fingers stilling inside of Otoya.
“Are ya good?” He asks, praying that Otoya isn’t about to freak out and end their friendship forever.
“M’fine,” Otoya mumbles softly into the pillow. “Just never done this is all.”
After a beat of silence, Karasu feels Otoya push back onto his fingers, trying to take him deeper. “Keep going.”
Karasu slowly starts moving his fingers deeper inside, and Otoya lets out a quiet sigh. He begins to scissor his fingers inside of Otoya, twisting and searching until Otoya lets out a punched-out groan, jolting his body back.
“Holy shit,” Otoya pants. “What was that?”
Instead of answering him, Karasu presses deep into the spot again, seeking out more of that sound that came from Otoya.
“There!” Otoya cries out, rocking back helplessly onto Karasu’s fingers as he curls them just right. “Please, Karasu. Don’t stop.”
Karasu gladly follows his orders, scissoring his fingers at an angle until he hits that spot again. Otoya arches his whole body, thighs trembling as he lets out a high-pitched moan that goes straight to Karasu’s aching dick.
Karasu doesn’t know how much more of this he can take before he straight up comes in his pants.
He starts fucking Otoya faster and harder with his fingers, the squelching sounds getting louder with every stroke. Otoya doesn’t hold back his moans as he fucks himself back on Karasu’s fingers.
By the time Karasu gets in a third finger, they’re both a mess. The heat coming from Otoya’s inner walls is so enticing as it envelopes Karasu’s fingers. He needs to be inside of Otoya so fucking bad. It feels like his life depends on it.
Karasu leans down, lips brushing against Otoya’s neck as he continues fucking into him with his fingers. “Yer making so many noises, man,” he mutters against his flushed skin. “Driving me crazy.”
“Can’t help it,” Otoya whines, rolling his hips back desperately. “Feels so- ah! Feels so good, Karasu.”
Karasu groans, lightly biting and scraping Otoya’s neck with his teeth. “Want more?”
Otoya nods frantically.
Karasu leans back, slowly withdrawing his fingers from Otoya, who whimpers at the loss. His hands shake as he fumbles with the zipper of his sweats, finally freeing his aching cock. He strokes his hand over his length, smearing the precum from his tip down his shaft. And suddenly he’s guiding himself forward until he’s pressed up against Otoya’s entrance.
As he slowly pushes in, every inch of him is overwhelmed with pure heat. Otoya’s walls feel like a velvety heaven that Karasu never wants to leave. His body clenches around him, so tight and perfect, and Karasu’s having a hard time catching a breath. He keeps pushing forward, burying himself further and further into Otoya’s warmth.
The two of them let out a collective groan as Karasu bottoms out completely inside of Otoya. Karasu holds onto Otoya’s hips like they’re an anchor, his grip so tight it’s bound to leave marks on Otoya’s soft skin for days.
“Fuck, ‘Toya,” he groans, nosing at Otoya’s neck. Karasu huffs as he sharply thrusts forward, unable to control himself any more. He establishes a harsh rhythm, brutally fucking in and out of Otoya who is quickly coming undone beneath him. He’s moaning into the pillow like he’s trying to muffle the sound, but Karasu can hear everything. Every whine, every gasp, every moan. All for Karasu.
It’s driving him insane. He wants to save the sounds in his brain forever.
Karasu snaps his hips forward again, watching in a haze as Otoya moans beneath him, hands gripping the couch cushion holding on for dear life while the couch creaks loudly with every thrust.
Karasu leans over, chest brushing Otoya’s back, and starts leaving open mouthed kisses along the nape of his neck.
“So fucking tight,” Karasu moans against Otoya’s skin, his voice gravelly and low.
Otoya whimpers, pushing back to meet each of his thrusts, but Karasu notices the way Otoya’s shoulders have started to shake like his arms are about to give out. Karasu pulls out just enough to get a good grip on Otoya’s hips and flips him around, coaxing him into his lap as he sits back against the couch. Otoya ends up settled over Karasu, thighs straddling his sides. He lowers himself cautiously, gasping as he fully sinks back down onto Karasu’s cock.
Karasu waits a moment before giving an experimental roll of his hips.
It draws a fucked-out moan from Otoya, who throws his head back, lips parted in pleasure, hands clinging onto Karasu’s shoulders tightly.
Once Otoya starts moving down to meet his thrusts, Karasu thinks he might die. He’s never felt anything like it, wrapped up so tight in Otoya’s heat. He throws his head back against the couch with a surprised moan, praying he doesn’t come immediately like some inexperienced loser.
Karasu opens his eyes back up to a sight that snatches the breath straight from his lungs. Otoya is staring back down at him, eyes hooded and cheeks flushed bright red as he grinds down into his lap.
Karasu reaches out, cupping Otoya’s cheek and pulling him in for a desperate kiss. Otoya makes a surprised noise against his mouth, but immediately melts into the kiss. He opens his mouth, and Karasu takes the opportunity to plunge his tongue inside. Otoya whines, fisting his hands in Karasu’s shirt as he sucks on his tongue.
They lose themselves in the kiss as they grind against each other, mouths sliding together hungrily. Their breaths are just as intermingled as their bodies as they move together, seeking out more pleasure.
“Fuck, keep riding me just like that,” Karasu groans, hands sliding up to grip at Otoya’s hips. He slams him down on his cock and thrusts up into him at the same time. Otoya shrieks, his hands scrambling to find purchase on Karasu’s upper back. Otoya lets out a deep moan, coming completely untouched between them. His hole spasms wildly around Karasu’s cock, milking a powerful orgasm from him. Karasu’s thrusts become frantic, and he snaps his hips one last time before burying himself to the hilt. He comes hard, spilling deep inside of Otoya and filling him up like he owns him.
“Fuck,” Karasu breathes out. He sinks back into the couch, completely spent, dragging Otoya down with him.
Otoya mumbles something unintelligible into Karasu’s shoulder.
Karasu pauses, looking down at Otoya curled against him. “You okay?” he asks, voice serious for a moment.
Otoya gives a lazy thumbs up, not even bothering to lift his head. “I can’t feel my ass.”
“Nah, man,” Karasu snorts, hand sliding down to settle on the small of Otoya’s back and tracing light circles. “You’re being dramatic.”
Otoya draws his head up from Karasu’s shoulder to look at him, as if studying him. As soon as their eyes meet, Karasu leans in again to capture Otoya’s lips in a soft and unhurried kiss. Otoya sighs softly into Karasu’s mouth, kissing him back without hesitation, and Karasu gets the feeling that he’ll be offering Otoya another massage very, very soon.