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“Fucking asshole.” Katou grumbles, arms pushing himself up as he fights with the gravity of wet clothing, the added ASV suit that was clinging like a second skin not helping one bit. At least it mostly felt like nothing, he thinks, even if it's turning uncomfortable, with the way it sticks.

 

“Inspector.”

 

The suspect of his current predicament speaks, smirk practically audible, dripping like the droplets cooling on his body and Katou feels himself scowling, admonishments leaving in a parade, though Kambe has learned to tune this out early on in their partnership. 


Kambe was, smirking that is, though there’s a certain else in those blue eyes, scanning, unbeknownst to Katou, the figure that’s slowly making itself known, wet clothes and all aiding in the way towards the millionaire.

 

Kambe knew of Katou’s supposed physique, his partner was the First Division’s ace, and had been a law enforcement officer for years. All that training and field duty was bound to leave evidence. But the officer in question’s taste regarding fashion was, to put in the least offensive wording within Kambe’s vocabulary, bland.

 

The absolute disregard in accentuating the man’s broad shoulders, tiny, god was it tiny, waist, and long, lean legs makes the rich heir sigh in forlorn. Strong arms, strong thighs, and probable abdominal muscles are also most likely hidden underneath those layers the millionaire cannot fathom why the other man even bats any thought on. 

 

Katou scoffs, –effectively breaking Kambe’s thoughts, the scion curses himself for his wandering reverie in the first place–, flipping a bird at him when he notices that Kambe wasn't listening, a feat Katou is begrudgingly already used to, as he pushes his drenched hair away from where it’s plastered on his forehead, the tips tickling his eyelids, all the while walking towards the other man and his sleek, black ride.

 

Kambe clicks his tongue.

 

“Stop being a shithead for a second, will you.” Katou narrows his eyes, annoyance clear in his sharp angles, looking all the ways that aren't helping Kambe’s attempts at thinking of anything besides less than work appropriate thoughts, at all; the swaying hips and the pointed glare that are doing things that weren't even supposed to be, thank you very much. 

 

“You at least managed to catch those idiots in the car, right? I will throw you if you let them loose.” The inspector continues, too busy wringing what he can of his clothes to notice Kambe’s glazed eyes flitting down on him. 

 

“Of course. No need for such violence, Inspector.” Kambe says slowly, conscience snapping back in place through bundles of self-awareness– he has shame, after all. Public indecency is still a crime.

 

Katou rolls his eyes before it raises, ignoring the irony as he meets his partner’s gaze, and says, “Good, then we’re done.” 

 

“Also,” He adds, walking to the other side of Kambe’s car, the click of the passenger’s door opening strangely loud, and the owner of said car raises an eyebrow in query, “Not a word about your car seat.” 

 

Slam. 


Kambe cringes, a visit to the cleaners, then, he sighs, slipping behind the wheel with an almost silent huff. Katou’s chuckle tells him it wasn’t.

 


 

So. 

 

Kambe miscalculated. Severely. 

 

This was not the visual he was expecting when he let Katou drop from the bridge.

 

Upon arrival to the mansion (they took a jet back, of course), that of which Katou generously berated him for because what the actual fuck Kambe, (though, truly, he should’ve expected nothing less), but that is neither here nor there, because Katou, in all his self-unawareness, once a singular step into their shared bedroom, started stripping. (Yes, they share a bedroom. Yes, it was intentional.)


The thud of shoes being chucked into the corner of the room barely registers in Kambe’s head when all of his razor focus is directed onto the man a mere few steps ahead of him, now discarded of the beige jacket his person always dons, leaving Kambe the image of a sheer, mostly cooled, white button down that’s doing wonders for the bare skin hinted beneath (Kambe would like to thank Katou’s intolerability to the ASV suit, having already disabled it somewhen throughout their ride); the broad and muscled back flexing as Katou unties his tie and tosses it in the general direction of the aforementioned jacket. Someone ought to applaud Kambe for his self-restraint, honestly, for not immediately jumping the taller man, though the simmering heat in his gut is something he couldn’t have avoided, no matter how much he wanted. And he didn’t want to, not really.

 

“Hey, I’m taking the shower first, I’m- ...Kambe?” Katou pauses, two buttons already unbuttoned when he turns to look at the millionaire, and is promptly confused at the glare he’s suddenly given. Or, more specifically, his chest– no, somewhere above? His collarbones?

 

Either answer, Katou is suddenly hit with a wave of self-consciousness, that of which Kambe would kindly call him out for utter idiocy if or when he ever finds out, and wraps his arms around himself in faux cold. “What?” 

 

Kambe is silent as he stalks forward, choosing to ignore the other’s clipped query, with steps light like they always are though his glare is anything but; twin oceans heavy and filled with promises Katou had only ever imagined but will swear he doesn’t indulge in, not in this setting at least, the realness of it, just only ever in the cobwebbed corners of his mind when, dare he allow himself, desire decides to run rampant. 

 

Large hands gently pry Katou’s arms away from himself and he shivers, some from the sudden cold but mostly from the touch, and Katou blinks owlishly when those same hands trace his sides, still clad, featherlight in their tread and finally stopping at his waist, grip firm but loose enough that he could twist away if he so wanted.

 

“Inspector,” Kambe murmurs, head downturned to his palms that were rested on said inspector, marvelling in a way alike to intrigue, as if the sight of Katou between his fingers were a delight enough to behold, and he squeezes once before looking up, mild satisfaction filling him when a nearly inaudible gasp tears from the taller man, inaudible if he weren’t so close, and asks, “Are you aware of what your actions do to me?” 

 

His voice drips sin, Katou’s mind whimpers at him, the question lost when the implication finds itself swirling down to his lower regions.

 

See, sexual tension wasn’t new to these two. The MCPTF division are more than willing to testify for that, unfortunately, but never has it been acted upon. Reasons ranging from the busy lives they lead and the general nature of sex-charged energy: repression and pride. Especially with characters such as Katou and Kambe. 

 

So to say, the unresolved energy between two healthy males finally seeing a crack in the resolute walls they unnecessarily built up is more than akin to a dam breaking, and Kambe’s low, smooth voice does nothing to stop the flooding, either. 


Yes, Katou answers inwardly, though this wasn’t what was in his mind when all he really wanted was to get rid of the uncomfortable cling to his skin as soon as possible, and instead comes out, “Enlighten me.” He breathes, quiet but firm with eyes fluttering to half-lid as he stares down at the shorter male, arms making their ascent and resting on Kambe’s shoulders, pressing in a goad-like manner. It wasn’t necessarily a challenge, more so it was an invitation, and Kambe, in all honesty, would voluntarily jump off the nearest window if for some reason he chose not to accept. So, he accepts.

 

No more words are exchanged when Kambe surges forward, closing the gap between them with a pull of Katou’s body to his own, along with his lips claiming the other’s in a surprisingly careful manner, though the hum that Katou releases is anything but dissatisfied. Arms loop around Kambe’s neck and the man couldn’t have found it in himself to be disturbed at the dampness of Katou’s clothes seeping into his suit, much as he tried, they’ll be bare soon enough, he thinks distractedly. 

 

Hands slip underneath Katou’s shirt and the sudden warmth on his cooled skin has him gasping once more, and Kambe uses this to his advantage, slipping his tongue into the other man’s mouth and relishing in the low moan his partner graces him with.

 

Kambe kneads the skin underneath his fingers while his tongue dances with the other’s and leaves no space untouched, before pulling away with a thin strand of saliva breaking when he pulls too far, but Katou doesn’t even get the time to breathe when his lips are covered once more, teeth nibbling lightly on the skin of his lips before they begin their descent. 

 

Kambe, bed.” Katou groans, the tingling bites then soothing licks to his jaw and down to his neck more than enough to make his focus waver, right alongside the distant promise of marks. Evidence of claim should not be this hot, but Katou finds himself uncaring when the sting on varying areas of his neck registers to his senses. 

 

He feels more than he hears the affirmative hum of Kambe’s agreement before their mouths find each other once more, playful nips and teasing licks more than actual lip-lock, and tumbling more than walking to the sizable bed, though none of them are complaining. Katou finds himself breaking the kiss when the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed and his bottom hits the plush mattress, back flat on the soft surface.

 

Like this, Katou is laid out in front of Kambe; his hair fluffed up more than usual with it having dried from it’s previously drenched state, though it only aids in the visual of the now positively see-through shirt and tight-fitted pants, dusky nipples and willowy thighs outlined invitingly, paired with the sinful expression Katou is sending his way; provocative in its equal measures of alluring and rumpled.

 

“You’re illegal.” Kambe exhales faintly, sounding as if winded, but he’s too preoccupied with lowering his knee on one side of Katou’s thighs and hooking his fingers around Katou’s belt, unbuckling and tossing it aside, to pay attention to his own breathlessness. Once the belt is off and the thump of metal hitting the floorboards resounds within their room, Kambe starts unbuttoning the gray slacks. 

 

Katou huffs a laugh, hips raising up with a lazy smile playing on his lips, “Am I?” He teases, grin widening when Kambe’s pools of ocean gray darken, gaze fixated on his hardening arousal that he’d otherwise be ashamed of if not for the same pitching tent in his partner’s pants. If anything, the harsh tug of his pants sliding off his legs testify as indication for reciprocal desire. 

 

Katou’s grin breaks into a sharp inhale almost immediately after he’s pantsless, when a tongue presses onto his thinly clothed length, a light suction to his tip before pulling off just as quickly as it arrived. 

 

“Tease.” Katou flushes, red dotting his cheeks and Kambe only smiles in response, though the pleased look in his eyes gives away how much of he is, in fact, a tease. 

 

Bastard, Katou muses. 

 

Kambe leans back then, giving Katou a full view of his torso, who leans up on his elbows and tilts his head much like an adorable puppy in confusion, and, if anyone asks, Kambe simply couldn’t have resisted the chaste kiss he presses to Katou’s forehead before he starts peeling off his layers. He’s more than happy at the splosh of rose tinting cheeks he receives in return. 

 

One by one, the pieces of his suit find themselves scattered on the floor, and soon enough Kambe ends up with his torso bare where champagne eyes shamelessly take in every contour and defined angle of the firm muscles presented to him. Kambe notices, it was quite impossible not to, when the searing heat of molten gold was practically burning holes through his chest, and lifts an elegant brow with amusement clear in his expression. 

 

Katou doesn’t meet his eyes, not yet, so Kambe watches with heightening arousal as Katou whistles appreciatively, piercing lust evident in specks within his eyes, those that were still raking unabashedly and taking their fill, “I didn’t know I was getting a show.” He says, teasing lilting across the cadence of his voice, and it does nothing but fuel Kambe’s painfully hard, painfully restrained, cock even more. 

 

“I didn’t know you’d enjoy a show.” Kambe chuckles, intonation rising in question but it's promptly cut off when Katou bites his lower lip, and then meets Kambe’s eyes, with the sweetest smile gracing his lips as if innocent from his brazen ogling. He drops from his elbows and onto his back, arms raising in invitation for the other man to slot in between, and of course, Kambe does, completely enraptured, and presses a fleeting kiss to Katou’s lips before pulling back, though there isn’t an inch apart in between them. “You like what you see, then?” He whispers, teasing back in an intended hush, his words a hum on Katou’s swollen lips while his fingers deftly make their way to unbutton the offending material that is Katou’s shirt, his and Katou’s breaths intermingling. 

 

Instead of answering though, and Kambe certainly wasn’t expecting it, Katou grinds his hips upwards, right into Kambe’s own hardness, and rips a moan from both their throats; the rough friction enough and telling of how pent up they truly are. Katou’s lashes flutter, grazing Kambe’s high cheekbones as his functions momentarily short-circuit, “You tell me.” He exhales shakily, already strung with just the rigid friction, hot breath brushing over Kambe’s lips. 


Kambe hums his assent, leaving a short peck to the corner of Katou’s lips before he lets a portion of his hardly constrained self-control loose and thrusts down in return, a sharp snap of his hips angled just right, and–

 

“Oh fuck!” Katou cries, a punched-out moan right into Kambe’s ear, and to hell if it doesn’t spiral Kambe’s shit poor self-control into flaring arousal.

 

Kambe all but rips Katou’s shirt off, briefly pulling the latter up to completely rid of it then smashes their lips together, newly found passion fueling their veins as Kambe purposefully presses their hips, his hands on the cooled skin of Katou’s bare waist as he guides it, using his hold onto it to chase the needed friction and effectively losing all grace for raw pleasure. 

 

“Kambe-“ Katou whimpers against his lips, cut off by his own moan, and Kambe’s hips stutter in response, groaning as he feels pre-cum dampening his underwear and pulls away just long enough to regain some semblance of perseverance, he will not be coming in his pants like some teenager, excuse him. 

 

That being said, it is also the exact moment of when he makes the mistake of looking down at Katou. 

 

Christ,” Kambe curses, eyes glazing over, “Katou, aren’t you a sight.” He breathes out, winded, as he looks at the man underneath him. 


Katou’s eyes are hazy and filled with unbridled desire, his chest rising in heaving breaths, flushed skin adorned in purple-red bruises running across his jaw to neck, one leg trapped to his side and the other folded by his waist, and his boxers tented obscenely with a noticeably darkened spot at the front. He already looks so filthy, and Kambe is delirious with how it’s only the start.

 

“Much as I love the view,” Kambe purrs, voice thick with restraint, which doesn’t go unnoticed to the other man, sending a wave of almost painful arousal behind his navel, Kambe continues, “I need us actually on the bed, if we want to be comfortable.” 

 

There’s a promise there, and it has Katou swallowing in anticipation. Nodding, he pushes Kambe off of him to grab what he needs while he himself crawls to the middle of the bed.

 

Kambe doesn’t miss the chance, so he taps the very plump behind before bolting off the bed, right on time as he laughs at the matching glare-and-kick he receives in reply. 

 

“Take HEUSC off.” Katou calls out to the scion, propping himself on his elbow as he watches the man rummage through the bedside drawer, and grows confused at the furrowed brows that take place on Kambe’s features. “What’s wrong? Can you really not take HEUSC off?” Katou puffs out, eyes already rolling to the heavens but he’s met with a disagreeing noise, the light clunk of the earring hitting said drawer only serving Katou’s confusion. 

 

Kambe clears his throat, hip resting on the wooden furniture as he crosses his arms, staring down at Katou with– uncertainty, or was it apologetically? Katou wouldn't say, but he's slightly distracted at the tauten biceps across those delicious pecs–

 

“There’s no more condoms.” Kambe mumbles, –right, situation at hand, Katou slaps himself figuratively–, which is contrastively unlike his usual tone of confidence, and paired with the incredulity of what he’s regarding and Katou’s own embarrassing, distracted thoughts, it makes Katou choke out a surprised laugh. 

 

Katou looks at Kambe’s surprised, and mildly chagrined face, with glinting amusement, “Fucking asshat, and here I thought it was something else.” He’s vaguely aware he’s smiling, probably too dopely for the given situation, but it was too much with how penitent Kambe looked over a problem with such a simple solution. Katou asks with what he hopes sounds like reassurance, and smiles, mischief gnawing at the insides of his cheeks, “You’re clean, no?” 

 

Katou delights in the arousal that skirts through Kambe’s gaze as he nods, so Katou continues, “Expectedly. Well, I’m clean too, and there’s a bottle of lube in my bag, if you’ve run out with that as well.” He grins, shit-eating in all its definition as the scion throws him an unimpressed look, but pads to Katou’s bag to retrieve the bottle all the same. 

 

Kambe plops the tube beside Katou before stripping off his pants and climbing on the bed as he resumes his previous position on top of the latter. Spreading his thighs, Katou lets the millionaire slot himself between his legs as his hands find themselves in Kambe’s hair. 

 

They meet halfway, already familiar with the dance of their lips, the taste of one another never seeming to be enough no matter how much of their fill they take.

 

As they kiss, languid and savoring, Kambe’s hands start to travel. He places them lightly on Katou’s waist, squeezing incrementally before ascending, the hum he receives a purr on his lips as he continues upwards, flattening his palms on Katou’s abdomen, tracing the hard lines up to his sternum, then spreading them across his chest fugitively, the featherlight weight of his palms grazing the very tips of Katou's nipples, and Kambe smirks at the abrupt intake of breath below him. 

 

Katou gasps at the sudden feeling, back arching off the bed at the ghost-like touch to his nubs that leaves goosebumps on its surrounding skin, and Kambe swallows the sound, all too proud of himself as hands lower to grasp at his shoulders, nails digging crescents into the flesh there. He presses his thumbs experimentally, and the keen whine shoots straight to his cock as it affirms his theory.

 

“Sensitive, are we.” Kambe says, sly eyes twinkling as though he just found out about a vital lead in some high profile case, pulling away from cherry red lips as he imprints the inspector's jaw-slack expression to memory when he takes the nipples simultaneously in between two fingers each, twisting and tugging until they perk up, taut and stiff and begging for his attention.

 

Katou’s wavering gold meet his own blue-grays and the former opens his mouth to retort, but Kambe swoops down and takes a nipple in his mouth with one quick motion, and the only sound that leaves Katou’s throat is a high moan, his hips involuntary twitching upward at the spike of mixed pain and pleasure, and as a result his erection rubs across the firm muscle of Kambe’s abs. Katou feels the slick of his wet underwear rub against his hard length at the unintentional grind, and he’s torn between the pleasure from that and the teasing his sensitive nipples are being subjected to.

 

His unadulterated sounds of pleasure are reducing Kambe's resolve, unknowingly, with his stifled wheezes and startled moans; the millionaire's confined cock feels all the definition of angry at the lack of relief, but Kambe’s eyes are more pupil than iris as he chooses to ignore his near unpleasant hardness, mind one-tracked as his tongue swirls around the poor nub with the occasional nip of his teeth while the other nipple gets tugged and played with two of his fingers, alternating between that and flicking it with the back of his nail, cock jerking at every needy whine he’s pulling from the inspector. His unoccupied hand trails downward to grip at one of Katou’s thighs, groping the underside and drowning at the quiver in Katou’s breathing. 

 

Kambe only pulls away when a cry of stop, fuck, it's too much tears from Katou’s lips, and he’s visibly satisfied at how red they’ve become. Not even trying to help himself, he starts biting across the expanse of Katou's chest, deeming in his head it being too unmarked for his liking and ignoring the rest of Katou's stuttering breaths. 

 

Katou's chest is rising with his pants, shivering the slightest bit at the air hitting his spit-slick and stiffened nipples, too focused on getting his breathing under control to see Kambe's handiwork; the litter of red and purple, susceptibility yet unsinking to his senses, "Kambe, come on." He mumbles, hands fisting the millionaire's hair and tugging for attention, if not for that then to anchor himself and tousel to his liking. 

 

Kambe finally stops lapping at his chest, though his eyes find themselves straying downwards and another bubble of heat crashes down on him unexpectedly when he catches the damp spot on Katou’s boxers, the amount of it enough to even seep through and stain his abdomen. Kambe unconsciously licks his lips, only to look up and have it be useless, because he suddenly feels parched, what with the sight of Katou’s molten gold shimmering, unshed tears clinging onto his lashes, and the pink tint across his features seemingly a permanent fixture, reaching the tips of his ears and the lines of his neck, not to mention his newly added artwork of bruises. Kambe is keeling with the sudden burst of possessiveness. 

 

Katou blinks his unfocused eyes at him as he looks down between them, hands lowering to tug at the waistline of Kambe’s boxers before looking back up, “Off, now.” It's said as a command rather than a plea, despite the utter ruin Katou’s state makes him to be, and it has Kambe feeling dangerously near the edge of reverence. 

 

Kambe lets himself smile as he takes Katou’s hands and kisses his wrists before guiding them back around his neck, "You first, lift your hips for me." With one hand, he hooks a finger under Katou’s stained underwear with a quiet up and in a smooth motion, Katou is bare beneath him, boxers somewhere on the floor, with the prettiest cock Kambe thinks he’s ever seen. The hard flesh is curved upwards and sheens with pearly globs of clear liquid, gathering on the cockhead before they drip down his length. 

 

Enticed, he takes Katou between his fingers and spreads the mess of pre down his whole length, only snapping back when a broken moan filters through his ears and the tug at the back of his scalp breaks his daze.

 

“'m gonna come too soon, stop that.” Katou curses at him, trying to get rid of the other’s grip on his dick with weak wriggles of his hips, though it’s doing anything but. His hands are tight in Kambe's hair as if undone and he'll unravel with it, ruffling the raven locks even further, though Kambe is far from minding. 

 

Kambe only tightens his hold, savouring the choked gasp his partner releases and starts pumping up and down, his other hand grasping the taupe-haired man’s waist to pin him still. He leans toward Katou's neck, leaving kisses and nips to any flesh his mouth lands on as he rhythmically strokes the girth in his palm, thumbing its slit on every other upstroke. 

 

Katou’s eyes are wide and frantic as he stares at Kambe, –well, the top of his head–, as lust and panic in their equal measures swims in them, “Stop, what are you-“

 

“It’s okay,” Kambe whispers, breath hot on his skin paired with little nibbles to his flesh, hand speeding up and swiping at the head, smearing the drizzle of slick as his wrist flicks with intent, “Let go, Haru.”

 

Katou’s cock twitches, the traitor, with the combined use of his given name, the sultry tone it’s breathed on his skin, the prolonged foreplay; all of it has him squeezing his eyes shut, stars framing his eyelids as his orgasm reduces him to a garble of incoherence, cum shooting out from his dick in ribbons of white and painting his and Kambe’s stomachs, a sinful cry of Daisuke rolling off of his tongue. 

 

And Kambe does everything in his will to keep his own cock from cumming, keeps his eyes open to store the look of pure ecstasy on his partner’s face and the sweet call of his name to the very recesses of his mind. 

 

His hand doesn’t stop, though it does slow down as he coaxes the last of Katou’s high before scooping the most of what he can of the viscous liquid with a thumb, and meets Katou’s eyes as he sucks it clean. 

 

Katou’s eyes widen comically at the sight, hands covering his face as a groan vibrates his chest in embarrassment, “You’re fucking filthy.” He says muffled, awe and exasperation underlying in his tone, giving himself a few moments before his fingers make a window for him to see Kambe looking at him with mirth-filled eyes. 

 

“You should see yourself,” The scion snickers fondly, sitting on his heels as he peers at the body below him, a quirk on his lips as he says, “Haru, you’re beautiful.” 

 

Katou’s breath hitches, looking to the side as he lets his arms fall to the sheets, “We’re on a first name basis now, huh.” He mumbles, choosing to ignore the compliment and the undertone of revere. It was double kill and unfair, all right?

 

But Kambe, one mercy, ignores the obvious swerve of conversation, only to grin a smug smile as he leers over the feast that is Katou’s body laid for him, and just chooses to quip on the new subject matter, “Hm, I quite like how my name sounds on your lips.” 

 

The gall to sound chipper, this fucker. 

 

“Shut up.” Katou hisses in shame, the memory of him crying so desperately for the other man making him blush crimson, enough that he feels the heat flush down to his chest. Kambe, the goddamn bastard, only laughs at him, eyes all crinkled and clear amusement, completely unhinged and uncaring for Katou’s mortification.

 

“Don’t get shy on me now,” Kambe muses, hands running along Katou’s thighs and spreading them wider, elated at the pliancy allowed to him while he reaches forward for the forgotten bottle of lube, and adds, “I plan on hearing more of it.” 

 

“Cocky, aren’t you.” Katou raises a brow, attention pulled to the substance being poured on Kambe’s fingers, entranced at the coat of gloss sticking between them as Kambe warms it, only to look back up and see a smirk on the other’s face, clearly having took notice of Katou’s staring, though he finds he’s not too bothered by the fact. Uses it to his advantage, even.

 

Cheekily, “I’d like to see you try.” Katou drawls, a playful, gleaming smile taking over his lips as he drags his fingers down his chest, to his sides, and stops when he reaches the top of his thighs, gripping them tight enough for the soft flesh to spill between his fingers and draws his knees high as he spreads his legs wider to show his pink hole. 

 

He lets Kambe swallow his lascivious display, arousal starting to chub again at the infinitely darkening pools of the man; a promise of thorough ravishing assisting his obviously interested cock, for a beat or two before he hooks his calves behind Kambe’s thighs to pull him forward, using it as leverage to sit himself up for his hands to quickly tug at the other man’s underwear and finally getting rid of the last piece of barrier between them.

 

“Oh.” Fuck.

 

Katou’s words leave him momentarily as he fixates on the hard flesh only a few inches away from his own, and he swears he sees it twitch at his astonished exhale, then inhales a good amount of air in attempt to squash down his excitement and, admittedly, nerves, because Kambe is, to put it plainly, big. Very.  

 

His cock was flushed red, veins evident with thin lines of pre-cum having slid down from the head. The tip was mouth-watering with drops having yet to slide down, creating an image so lewd Katou is starting to think himself hysteric with wanting a taste. And thick. Very thick. 

 

“You didn’t tell me you were so,” He gestures vaguely to the red, pitifully red, cock that’s hard to the point it’s pressed to Kambe’s navel, and Katou takes a moment to salivate because implications, and continues after the moment of vivid, unholy images flashing at the forefront of his mind dies down, “Well-endowed.” He weakly finishes, face heating up as he visibly gulps when a bead finally spills. 

 

Kambe, to Katou’s gratification, isn’t completely unaffected. With a low curse of fuck tossing a kaleidoscope of aggresively fluttering butterflies in Katou’s stomach, the taupe-haired man is suddenly being pushed back down, wrists pressed together above his head with Kambe’s clean hand while the other reaches down between his cheeks and circles his rim. 

 

“You are sinful.” Kambe growls against his collarbone, harshly biting at the yet unmarked skin above it, and Katou is certain his cock is fully hard now when Kambe’s hips stutter at an angle that makes his breath hitch, skin-on-skin friction blanking his mind white hot and delirious.  

 

A finger slips in at the same time teeth nips hard at the area below Katou’s ear, doing its job of distracting him from the initial sensation of his asshole being prodded, though it's not necessarily unpleasant. His breath is ragged when Kambe’s baritone moans lowly right by his ear, the hot breath that brushes against his skin leaving hairs to rise on its ends, “The things you do to me, Inspector.” 

 

Oh, Katou is going to be thinking of all things inappropriate when he hears the word inspector now, because christ was Kambe’s voice downright sultry

 

“I have, ah- a few ideas. Come on, one more." Katou keens, hips squirming to show that he’s already adjusted. At this, Kambe’s head shoots up at him in surprise, finger momentarily halting before it continues its slow pace, and Katou doesn’t know whether to be flattered or offended and mutters a biting what

 

“You’ve done this before?” Kambe questions, not so much the sex part but the bottoming. He refuses to believe Katou had never had sex before, for obvious reasons (the man is thirty and hot, ergo; highly fuckable, alright?), as the newly founded information catalogs in. 

 

A second finger rubs at Katou’s rim as the first continues its plunging, readying it to take another, but Katou only balks at Kambe’s accusation.

 

“Like my shamelessness doesn't speak for itself! And I've done both, just so you know.” Katou huffs indignantly, glaring at Kambe in disbelief as the other shakes his head. Kambe unclutches his hold on Katou’s wrists to cradle his jaw, thumb swiping at his lower lip in placation.

 

“I meant that I didn’t expect you to have received before.” Kambe says as the pleasant realization has him grinning. His hand leaves Katou’s face to grab at the casted bottle of lube and Katou raises an eyebrow at him in suspicion, but nudges his head to the direction of the bottle, before his eyes widen at the finger leaving him. 

 

“What are you- Ah!” Katou yelps, the sudden trickle of cold liquid that comes in contact with his hole surprising his senses, though it turns into a moan soon enough when two slicked fingers sink into his heat in one go, a few methodical thrusts and they’re down to their knuckles. 

 

Kambe is fully leaning on his heels now, watching as Katou’s hole flutters around the base of his knuckles and doing its utmost to accommodate the stretch. A few beats of adjustments later, he starts to thrust them, unhurried but searching as he rubs at Katou’s walls, preening silently at the twitch of Katou’s thighs on particularly hard nudges. 

 

He’s scissoring the taller man when he finds it, that bundle of nerves, from the high moan that rips from Katou’s throat and his hips grinding back on Kambe’s fingers. Kambe is quick to add another lubed digit before he starts aiming at that particular spot, Katou’s rim loose enough that it doesn't hurt at the new intrusion, but with the way his walls tighten around Kambe, and to be a little shit –but that's between him and him alone–, has him asking. "Okay?" 

 

For good measure, he loosely fists Katou’s hardening length, a complacent smile widening on his lips at the other man's battering eyelids, pleasure-hazed.

 

Nonetheless, Katou shoots him a dirty look, “Bastard.” He bristles, seeing right through Kambe’s intentions and about to retort, but all that comes out his mouth is an embarrassingly high whine when Kambe decides to hit his sweetest spot exactly at that time, a smug twinkle in the crescent of his eyes.

 

“What was that?” 

 

“Oh, fuck off.” The quiver in Katou’s voice degrades the insult. 

 

“Hm,” Kambe ponders indulgently, tilting his head as he fucks his fingers a tinge harder like he's proving a point and smirks that trademark, asshole-y smirk that makes Katou want to kiss and kick him, though not necessarily in that order when continuous jabs at his prostate are making him spill noises rather than coherent sentences, and only as Kambe spread his three fingers obscenely wide does he finish his thought, paying no mind to Katou’s whimpers of ah, ah, ah's as he speaks lowly, “I don’t think I will. I have you right here.” 

 

A garbled whine punches out of Katou, the sensation of elegant fingers fucking in him and the velvety timbre of Kambe’s voice shocking jolts of electricity down his spine, and he distinctively realizes his cock is at full-mast when the hand around it squeezes him and a dribble of pre-cum slides down Kambe’s knuckles. Those same knuckles are then used to gather his slick before they wrap back around his cock, sticky with his own substance, and it has him weakly jutting up for more, his breathing harsh in his own ears.

 

Katou's eyelids are heavy with pleasure but he blinks them wide open, lashes flapping rapidly to attain some pretense of clarity. He lands his gaze directly at Kambe, heady with want at every hook and rub of his skilled fingers and Kambe notices the wanton stare, though Katou looks as if he’s trying to say something underneath the mist, and so the former mercifully slows both his ministrations, meeting the taupe-haired man's intoxicating gold. 

 

Kambe expects the other man to meet his argument, but he’s rendered speechless, dumbstruck, when instead of foul language, Katou lowers his hands and takes in them the fleshy mounds of his ass apart, giving way to let his reddened rim show on full display, stretched and filled with three slow-thrusting fingers. Kambe’s dick pulses, the sudden gush of pre startling his hips to stutter into the juncture where Katou's thigh meets hip. The bare slide makes him moan, his fingers pushing in an increment deeper, and Kambe has half a mind to just plunge his dick inside the tightening heat when his fingers are all but swallowed and Katou deliciously groans out his name. 

 

"Daisuke," Katou sings, breathless and vulgar, and it makes Kambe half-consciously dig his digits in deeper, "If that's what you say," Katou grunts, then he sighs, grinning, "Then hurry up and fuck me." 

 

He pulls his cheeks wider, hips grinding back to Kambe’s fingers as he lays himself bare for the other man, leering explicitly with poorly-veiled impropriety. 

 

Gooseflesh awakes where Katou’s fervent, whirling champagne titillatingly span from Kambe’s smooth chest, his muscled biceps, his sharp hips and slowly down his thick length –perhaps a second longer there–, then finally back to his eyes, where hunger fills the darkened oceans, wide in edged desperation and staring at Katou in a silent plea. And Katou smiles, wicked and devastating, as he softly says, "Come on."

 

Katou slowly takes the nestled fingers out his ass and laces it with his own, uncaring of where it's just been and the tackiness with it, and uses it to pull Kambe forward before cradling the man's cheek with his left hand. He nuzzles his nose in Kambe's neck, pressing a soft kiss on the skin beneath his lips before he whispers and bites at Kambe’s skin, "Tell me what you want." Smiling against the millionaire’s neck, the hand he placed on the other man’s cheek travels to behind his head, combing the hair his fingers meet as he relishes in the quickening pace of Kambe’s pulse.

 

"You." Kambe breathes, right hand smoothening itself on the underside of Katou’s thigh as he inches forward, his hard length sliding against the cleft of Katou’s ass and so, so close to the tight heat where he wants it in, but a moment of coherence crashes on him when he’s gifted the blinding smile that Katou sends him as he pops into view, bright and burning with his shining champagne, and Kambe makes a mental note to share his venerate thoughts a significant amount from now on if he's going to be rewarded with a view such as this every time. 

 

God, he’s already so whipped. 

 

"Haru." He murmurs, leaning forward to capture the other’s lips in a kiss, breathtaking in its own, adoring way, and Kambe pulls away with a small smile on his lips, the sparkle in his eyes as he looks at Katou nothing short of– 

 

(Well, every word akin to his feelings are much too early, don’t you think? But, ah, you know what I mean, yes?)

 

Katou pecks his nose then, a bright flush high on his cheeks as he laughs quietly, "God, I'm never getting used to that." And it’s said in that shy, quiet tone that Kambe wouldn’t mind hearing again, so he says just as much. 

 

Kambe grins at him, looking all the way that makes Katou’s heart, and dick, jump with all the subtlety his heated complexion allows him, "Better try to, Inspector. I have no intent on stopping."

 

Katou rolls his eyes, but it's fond in the way he wouldn't admit, not now at least, when there's something else in dire need of attention, and half-heartedly shoves Kambe’s left shoulder in yield. “All right, all right,” He pats said shoulder, then continues in faux sobriety, “But, passing reminder for our current state of affairs. Namely, the situation at hand?” He sniffs, wriggling his hips in implication and grinning when he hears the intake in the millionaire's breath. The hardness is unmistakable against the supplety of his ass. 

 

“You might be forgetting the prevailing circumstance, Daisuke. It demands for immediate attention.” Katou cheekily adds, completely aware of how incorrect his account is. 

 

Kambe narrows his eyes at him, playing along with the taller man’s antics with imitative offense before taking back his hand from the other’s and finding its way to Katou’s entrance, his thumb sinking in and pulling the cute pucker agape, “I assure you,” He licks his lips, pupils dilating at the winking hole as it searches for a dutiful something to fill it’s poor emptiness, “I have not.” Kambe finishes, delighting at the accommodation when he dips a thumb to the knuckle, the other hand sliding from Katou’s thigh to have its thumb keep it unclenched. 

 

“Yeah?” Katou looks up at him, exhilaration coating his inflections as he taunts the younger man, “Get on with it then.” Tossing the forgotten –for the nth time– lube towards Kambe (which he catches, because he's Kambe Daisuke, but he does rub a soothing circle or two where he suddenly pulled out), and they shuffle until Kambe’s thighs are flush against the fat of Katou’s ass with the older man's legs around Kambe’s waist, lubed cock in hand as the shorter man circles his head on Katou's rim and the other a comforting weight on his waist. 

 

"Take a deep breath." 

 

So Katou does, and in the next second Kambe is finally breaching his hole, the flushed pucker gaping wide as bated sighs leave both their lips. Once the cockhead slips past the rim, Kambe slowly, shallowly starts to thrust in to fully sheath himself. 

 

Grinding his hips in little circles, Kambe grunts as heat starts enveloping more of his shaft and his partner’s nails end up digging in his back. With Katou’s directing sighs and groans, Kambe is fully sheathed inside the dizzying heat with exceptional restraint, if the bruising grip he had on Katou’s thigh and waist were anything to go by.

 

“So big.” Katou breathlessly says, high with a hint of satisfied laughter that makes Kambe swear, unintentionally tightening his grip on the plush flesh beneath his hands, already seeing hints of palm-shaped marks where he soothes them in silent apology. 

 

“You can’t say such things without expecting me to react, Haru.” Kambe warns, gritting his teeth as he tries to keep from bucking into the other man in intentions to let him adjust, though Katou seems unperturbed with the intrusion. It’s a little off-putting, but Kambe’s not letting assumptions convince his logic in the possibility he might hurt Katou, no matter how unintentional. 

 

“Ah, but Daisuke, I want you to fuck me already.” Katou murmurs, as if talking about the weather, as if he’s not breaking Kambe’s internal barriers to keep his base instincts intact, and runs his nails lightly at the expanse of his shoulders, then squeezing in time as he does so with his walls, the engulfing heat around Kambe’s raw flesh and the very thing he’s trying to ignore. Kambe is equally disturbed and aroused at how filthy his inspector's mouth can get. 

 

Deciding that those weren’t enough, Katou smirks as he presses his face close to the scion’s ear, blowing a rush of cool air before purposely clenching down once more, “And who said I didn’t want it to hurt?” He whispers, sensuality layered on thick as he pairs it with a provocative lick on the helix of his ear, tongue teasing as he kisses where a light coat of spit surfaces it, and distantly, Kambe notes that seduction had never looked so utterly divine on anyone, and not once was it this enchanting. 

 

And so, regarding his beloved's insinuation, well. Kambe has always been one to deliver. 


After a more assured consent, Kambe gives in; pulling his cock out until just the head is in, he glances once at his partner’s face, before knocking his breath out in a singular, hard, thrust, that is promptly followed with more akin in a pleasantly brutal pace, and from the get-go, sinful sounds are cascaded through the entirety of their bedroom.

 

The slap of skin against skin is downright lewd, with Kambe’s thighs hitting where Katou’s connect with the juicy ass he’s graced, balls hitting beneath where they’re connected, and the harmony of Kambe’s deep baritone moans and Katou’s keening cries, it all makes for an exquisite painting of vivid desire. Filth drips like thickly brushed paint within their four walls, and Kambe has never been more glad for the excessively thorough construction of the mansion, the soundproof walls imminently going to do wonders for their act. 

 

Oh and the dialogue

 

“So good, so good, Daisuke. Ah, ah-! "

 

“Is it now? One more time Haru, tell me.” 

 

“Shut- hng, up. Oh, oh, don’t stop.” 

 

“My name, love.” Kambe all but growls, hands positioning themselves on Katou's hips to pin them down as he fucks in harder, keeping the other man still to take what's being given while he drives his cock in search for a particular bundle of nerves, though the tight, soft heat of Katou’s walls are pushing his mind into pleasure delirium more by the second and he's not sure he's doing good on his scout. 

 

But in an angled, accidental falter does he graciously find what he's looking for, and the feeling of nails scratching hard on his back only confirms his success. Kambe’s eyes are electric at the tremor of Katou's body underneath his, a reflexive clench around his dick as Katou’s hole tries to keep him where it is; pressed right against his prostate, and Kambe smirks as he reaches up to Katou’s ear, mimicking his earlier ministration and licks it before playfully biting down. 

 

“Found it.”

 

 

Katou’s eyes snap wide, mouth agape to an o as he wails pathetically, right before a drawled out moan startles himself when Kambe stills to hitch his right leg over his shoulder, the pause making Kambe’s hard length rest snugly inside him like it's home, and Katou’s mind eagerly supplies him with the thought that yes, he belongs right where he is, feverish in every way and it only makes Katou sob, as Kambe finally moves and oh fuck he's hitting it every single thrust, throwing Katou’s filter somewhere along their mess of discarded clothing as he’s being screwed within an inch of his life. 

 

"Daisuke," Katou moans, fingers squeezing Kambe’s shoulders as his eyes roll to their whites in pleasure, "Haa, you're so- ah! Why haven't we done this sooner." He cries, stomach tying in knots, and pushes his face in the crevice of Kambe’s shoulders to bite and mark at the skin in an attempt to suppress his shudders. 


"We should have fucked sooner, oh christ, Daisuke!" Katou whimpers illegibly, the other man suddenly going rougher like he thought wasn't possible. He thinks he imagines the helpless groan he hears, but then he's suddenly being pulled upright, chest against chest, with the pulsing cock in him staying inside even when he's jostled to sit up. Katou tries to blink his haze away to look down at the man now under him, and it takes a moment to realize their current position.

 

Flushing bright red, his moan is broken when the length in him goes impossibly deeper, and he feels almost unbearably full with the way his rim is stretched and the tip of Kambe’s cock insistently pressing on his prostate, the curved hardness not willing down, and a new wave of heat crashes down on him when Kambe bucks up shallowly, grinding as if to leave the shape of his cock imprinted into his walls, having to feel every graze of the thick girth. 

 

"Haru," Kambe says sweetly, the devilish smirk on his face betraying his tone, "Take from me what you want, darling." 

 

With uneven breathing and steady hands firm on his hips, Katou renews his hold onto Kambe’s shoulders as he shakily rises, his weeping length rubbing on Kambe’s abdomen as he does so and it only fuels him more to sink down and seek their pleasure, and oh does he wholly succeed with it. 

 

The gravity he has makes him take the wonderful cock in deeper, and they both moan in unison when Katou does it again, this time more assuredly, with his thighs tensing at every fuck down and Katou, god, does Katou ride like a fucking champ. With his mouth agape and half-lidded eyes, Kambe couldn't resist just sitting and receiving. So he maneuvers his hands lower, situating them on Katou's ass and fondles him, before groping the cheeks and meeting Katou’s next sink. Thrusting up with enough force he feels the cheeks in his hands jiggle, it only urges him to grip and fuck up harder at the blissed out expression Katou rewards him with. 

 

"You're swallowing me right up." Kambe says, the awe that laces his words making Katou falter in his pace, blush high as he whimpers, embarrassed, but Kambe only takes the moment of halt to switch them up once more, flipping Katou on his hands and knees as he takes his place behind him. The movement slightly jolts his cock that’s nestled in the taller man, but nonetheless doesn't leave, so Kambe settles comfortably enough before burying himself into the greedy hole once more, balls-deep and flush to the hilt as he leans forward, his chest to Katou’s back as he grinds his hips in teasing circles, purposefully letting his cock carve its shape into the soft walls and leak pearls of pre-cum to stain his lover’s insides. 

 

Katou's hoarse cry only adds to his leaking cockhead, the squelch as he shallowly fucks in obscene and absolutely lovely to his ears. Kambe takes one of Katou’s nipple and pinches, "Do you like it? How my cock fills you up so nicely?" He asks, peppering kisses on the unmarked skin of Katou’s back, rolling his dick in time to his question as emphasis. 

 

"Maybe fuck me and I'll tell you." Katou bites, back arching when Kambe flicks his nipple in retaliation. His arms are barely holding himself up, but he pushes against Kambe in aid to his statement and sighs audibly when Kambe rubs his hip soothingly, and finally resumes with their fucking.

 

The position gives Kambe leverage, and he's fucking almost animalistically into Katou’s insides. The used hole sucking him in welcomingly as he succeeds in abusing its owner's prostate, punching out moans and whimpers from the taller man as Kambe continues playing with Katou’s nipple, tugging and flicking while he lands a tentative smack to Katou’s backside with his unoccupied hand, all too pleased with himself at the startled yelp and the shake of the perky ass against his thigh. 

 

Giving one last bite to Katou’s nape, Kambe pulls himself up to his knees and clutches at the other man's buttocks, spreading the cheeks apart to see his own cock driving into the pitiful pucker. It was an unbelievably hot sight, and it has him cursing as he keeps them spread, thrusting in harder and sadistically enjoying how his length is being swallowed while he fondles the cheeks in his palms, kneading and groping the supple flesh to his liking. 

 

All of these sensations happening in a matter of moments, with the addition of them going at it with what felt like hours –it probably has been hours–, Katou feels the knot in his stomach tighten, the tell-tale sign of his unraveling, and he's scrambling to get a hand on his cock but Kambe is slapping it away before he’s even anywhere near it. 

 

"What are you- ah, ah, yes, there- haa, doing? I'm close." Katou whines, arms giving up so he's on his forearms, left cheek on the silk sheets as his eyes fill with unshed tears at the denied pleasure but too dazed to try again to reach, "Let me come." 

 

Kambe’s hands leave his ass only for one to clutch a bruise to his hip and the other to land another slap to his backside, hard enough the sound seems to reverberate in their room and a stark red is implanted on the paleness of his plump bottom, "No." Kambe says, smooth and cool as he punctuates it with a sharp rut to his prostate. 

 

Katou almost cries, but he doesn't, though he does keen very pathetically, "Why? I want to come- hng- fuck. Daisuke, let me come." He's gripping the sheets at this point, fistfuls of silk as he groans and pushes his hips back to meet Kambe's. “Please.”

 

Kambe moans at the sight, a dishelved Katou rutting back against him as he pleads to make him cum. He rubs the cheek he just slapped in apology then grabs a chunk of it to part, letting Katou’s cute pucker gape once more before letting it go and makes contact with his length yet again. 

 

"You'll come from me fucking you," Kambe answers, his voice rough with his own arousal reaching its peak, "And that alone, okay, Haru?" 

 

Katou only moans in response, but he’s not reaching down for his member so Kambe regards it as compliance. Smiling satisfactorily, Kambe then does his job, refastens his palms on Katou's hips, and fucks in with intent as he pulls the other man flush against him at every thrust, his tip leaking profusely as he presses in that bundle of nerves every time he gyrates forward, and the increasing tempo of Katou’s sobs tells him he's doing a job, tipping forward to land a soft kiss on Katou's back in appreciation.

 

Hands caressing Katou’s sides, Kambe keeps up his littering kisses, cock driving in with no shortness of enthusiasm as he feels Katou’s tremors, bodily twitching at every sensation Kambe delivers. With a hidden smile, he digs his thumbs deep into Katou’s lower back, forcing him to arch lower and the tip of his length brushing on the silk beneath them as a result. And that does it for Katou. 

 

With Kambe still leaning forward and Katou’s forced compliance for deeper penetration, his thick length presses in those increments deeper, fills Katou’s hole a tinge bit fuller, and the next thing they know is that Katou is clenching around him, tight to the point that Kambe has to falter his pace, toning down to a coax, as Katou cums untouched with a sinfully beautiful scream of his name, orgasm blinding Katou’s vision as his back arches even further, ass taking in Kambe's twitching cock to the hilt while streaks of his spend stain their bed, semen gushing out hard enough it reaches his chest. 

 

Katou is panting when he’s finished, slumping further into the mattress while he tries to piece his coherence back together. Kambe’s forced chuckle is the sound that gets him lucid enough. 

 

"Daisuke?" Katou asks, tiredly, with hoarseness scratching his throat, and he pulls himself back to his forearms when he feels the length inside him twitch, and still very, obviously, hard. 

 

"Oh." Katou breathes, and because he's the devil, Kambe is convinced he is –perhaps a relation of sorts? An incubus? Succubus?–, because Katou grinds his hips back, and smiles flirtatiously with no less unyielding conviction despite his very recent undoing, "Use me, until you come. And fuck it in me." 

 

Kambe spurts another dribble of pre at that, eyes widening as his fingers tighten their clutch, Katou’s breath hitching as he knowingly wiggles his hips in encouragement. 

 

"Are yo-" 

 

"Yes," Katou cuts him off, glaring playfully, in other words: very fucked out and highly effective bedroom eyes –Kambe is still just a man–, at the millionaire from his position on the bed, "So hurry and fill me up already." 

 

Kambe doesn't need any more convincing. 

 

With a few more quick and sharp, uncontrolled ruts, Kambe is keeling with a long-drawn moan into Katou’s back as he finally unknots the tension in his gut, hips stuttering thrusts as he fucks his cum in deep, tip kissing Katou’s oversensitive prostate while his load gets mushed into Katou’s walls. It's as much cum as Katou had released, just as hard too, so he's not surprised at the feeling of some escaping before he has yet to pull out. 

 

He grinds in twice more before he sighs, draping himself across Katou’s back as the last of his orgasm dies down and blissful, content satiety washes through him. 

 

Kambe moves them so they’re laying on their sides, an arm around Katou’s waist with the other propping his head up, peppering kisses onto Katou’s hair and letting them bask in the afterglow until they grow uncomfortably hot and sticky. 

 

Katou sighs, almost purring at the buzzing aftermath before he grunts, feeling the sweat run down his back and temples, "Move, I want to clean. Everything feels sticky." 

 

To which Kambe groans into his shoulder, hands caressing his hips to ease the surely-there bruises, and litters kisses across his shoulders to back to convince him not yet

 

Who knew Kambe Daisuke was a cuddler after sex?

 

"Later." Kambe mumbles to his skin, biting marks mindlessly as he slowly pulls out, pressing a kiss to Katou’s nape when he hears the other man wince. 

 

There's cum oozing out and trickling down Katou’s thighs, stark against the redness of where their skin had been slapping throughout the afternoon–

 

"It's evening." Kambe points out, dumbly, as he continues to stare at the trail of his semen running down from Katou’s pretty red hole, only snapping his eyes up when the owner snorts. 

 

"Yeah, –and stop staring–, you fucked me as soon as we came back and well into the beginnings of the night. Such an accomplishment, Daisuke-sama." 

 

Kambe rolls his eyes, but a mischievous smirk grows on his lips when an idea pops into his mind. 

 

"Then I should be rewarded, correct?"


Katou's eyes widen, with slight horrification, "Wait, again? Give me a seco- Wait! Oh my god, that's dirty, stop! Kambe!"

 

Kambe wordlessly maneuvers them so Katou is on his back, thighs propped on his shoulder while his hands cradle the other man’s ass for leverage, lifting just slightly to have him directly in front of Katou’s leaking hole. 

 

Kambe licks his lips, “My reward.” He cheekily smirks, before plunging his teeth into the insides of Katou’s thigh, the sensitive flesh jerking reflexively before Kambe hums appreciatively when it relaxes. 

 

With Katou’s miles long legs, Kambe creates his art, different shades of pinks, reds, and purples running the stretch of his pale canvases, and he’s amused at the interested member that greets him when he looks up to Katou. 

 

“And I thought you were tired?” 

 

“I said a moment.” Katou grumbles, clearly embarrassed with his own arousal and looking away from the sight of Kambe between his legs, differently than before but liking it no less. Maybe a bit too much, he’ll admit, but still too much for his bodily functions to handle. Kambe bites at the cleft of his ass when he notices, eyes narrowing to say don’t look away, the squeak he receives making him lap at it in apology but equally still wanting for a certain pair of gold on him. 

 

When Katou finally looks back down on Kambe, he grins, wolfish, and in the next second, Kambe is nestled between Katou’s ass, the perky cheeks parted by his large palms as he licks from his artworks to Katou’s hole, eyeing the drops of cum hungrily before licking a flat stripe against the rim, gathering his own spend while he laps at the ring of muscle before spitting them out on their sheets, Katou’s cry of the sheets! you can't just- going unheard, and dives back in. 

 

Kambe’s tongue is skilled, much like everything else in his arsonnel of Things Kambe Daisuke is Exceptional At, which is a very extensive list, too, but Katou is too busy preening to mind the unfairness of it all when said skill is being used on him presently. 

 

The tongue breaching him traces as far as it could reach around Katou’s walls, seemingly tasting the flesh of where it lands on as its tip curves and hooks, prodding his stained and sensitive insides before popping back out with a swipe to his taint, the flat of Kambe’s tongue circling his abused hole as he hums lowly and the vibrations go directly to his half-chub. 

 

Katou sighs, resignedly and contently, when Kambe finally pulls off with a final kiss to his hole and tiredly motions to his member with a raised eyebrow in prompt, “Well? That’s your fault, you know.” 

 

“Gladly.” Kambe’s gaze is predatory, and Katou melts into their bed when Kambe takes him into his mouth, the knowledge of knowing where it’s just been only helping in further hardening his length, and with the added wet heat engulfing his already having spent (twice!!) cock, it doesn’t take much to get him fully hard. 

 

Instead of being teased, Kambe seems to like the fact that he has Katou like putty in his care, expertly blowing the other man as he squeezes Katou’s thigh noncommittally. His tongue flicks Katou’s slit when he raises, circling the skin of his head before dropping back down, the tip of his nose coming in contact with the taller man’s curls as he flattens his tongue on the protruding vein on the underside. 

 

Kambe groans when Katou bucks up, albeit weakly, but the other man was by no means small, and Kambe rubs a palm on Katou’s hip to say he’s fine before breathing through his nose and resuming.

 

“Daisuke, I’m close.” Katou sighs, a high, drawn-out sound as his abdominal muscles clench, before a weak moan punches out his throat and he’s cumming down Kambe’s mouth. 

 

Kambe makes no move to pull out, only raising high enough that Katou’s head is the only thing in his mouth as he lets the other man’s spend rest on his tongue. When the last of his beloved’s spurts out, Kambe pulls his mouth to loll it open, showing a flustered Katou his own cum and makes a show of swallowing, licking his slips soundly at the other man’s groan. 

 

“Thank you.” Kambe says, smug and proud as he continues to watch pink flush to cover Katou’s bitten skin, the contrast of colors swirling a masterpiece in his eyes, all the while Katou flips him a singular bird with his other hand still covering his face. 

 

“Don’t thank me for that, fucking bastard. You’re filthy. Filthy.” 

 

“Good thing you indulge me then, right, Inspector?” 

 

“Shh. Shut.” Katou snaps, letting his legs off from where they’ve been resting to pull Kambe up and beside him, minutely avoiding the spat semen, and wraps an arm around his waist as this time, they’re facing each other. 

 

Kambe looks at him then, really looks at him, at the flushed complexion, the bruises, the sodden thighs; Kambe is feeling infinitely soft, and fond, and all other words that spell out mine as the image of Katou glowing under his care, the sated afterglow from incredible sex and his natural, boyish features, has him feeling more possesive with the urge to spoil like never before. 

 

He’s never looked better, Kambe thinks, as he follows suit and slips an arm around the other’s waist and pulls him towards himself. 

 

“Mine.” Kambe whispers, quiet and hushed as he meets gold, and perhaps he’d done some good in some life of his, when bright and burning, shining champange smiles at him. 

 

"Hm, bath first."