[500 Themes: 198]
Barnaby isn't usually fond of baths.
A shower is all he wants and needs at the end of a long day – slightly chilled, to keep his hair from becoming heat-damaged. It's far more efficient than waiting for a tub to fill up, far easier to deter Kotetsu from as well.
A bath tub filled with water is simply asking for Kotetsu to bother him.
Barnaby belatedly realizes this when he remembers that he left the door unlocked and only moments after sinking into the steaming water, expensive oils soaking into his skin, Kotetsu is there, gracelessly sinking into the water opposite him, grinning as wide as ever – or at least, Barnaby thinks that's what he's doing. He can't really tell through the blur of his vision. He scowls to compensate.
"Why?" The pout, at least, is audible. Kotetsu's leg stretches across the large tub, poking his toes into Barnaby's chest, and the blond's scowl deepens as he shoves it away.
"Because you're just going to disturb my relaxation time."
"And how would I do that?"
Too innocent. Barnaby frowns, shoves Kotetsu's foot further away when it comes back to poke at him again. "By being obnoxious. I'm in here to relax and maybe read a bit. I don't need you in here brushing your teeth or poking me with your feet – "
"It's more efficient to brush my teeth – "
"Not in the bath! It's disgusting. And I also need to soak – this cold weather has been doing horrible things to my skin – "
"Your skin feels as soft as ever to me."
Barnaby flushes, then, sinking back with an expression that he knows has to be akin to fuming. Kotetsu is grinning again, shifting in the warm water to prowl over him – hands on either side of him and against the rim of the tub, lips warm and soft against his neck and suddenly, Barnaby isn't thinking of relaxing or reading or soaking.
It's amazing how Kotetsu can do this every single time. It doesn't take much – a touch to his neck, to his hair, a brush of calloused fingers along the line of his hip or to the inside of his thighs. Somehow, Kotetsu has coaxed his head back, his mouth is hot along the arc of his throat as his teeth and tongue lick over it, and Barnaby groans, reaching up to wrap his fingers into his lover's hair as his back bows, his toes curl into the slick bottom of the tub to better press his hips up into the sinuous grind of Kotetsu's thigh against his groin.
Why did he dislike baths like this again?
Impossible to remember the reasoning behind that when Kotetsu is coaxing him to roll over and Barnaby is suddenly bent against the edge of the tub, back arched and knees trembling with Kotetsu's fingers, slick with oil, are pressing inside of him. Barnaby nearly sobs, scrambling for proper balance as his legs beg to simply collapse beneath him, but Kotetsu's other hand is on his hip, steadying him, holding him in place as the digits twist and drag slowly in and out of him, the pair of them spreading and scissoring.
The sound that leaves Barnaby's throat is something akin to a whine when those fingers pull away, and Kotetsu's mouth is brushing against his damp shoulder, against the back of his neck so readily exposed by the hair tie that binds up the curls of his hair. Kotetsu sucks on that spot and Barnaby shudders, gripping the edge of the tub that much harder, panting when Kotetsu's cock slides against the cleft of his ass, slick as those fingers had been, and finally, finally he pushes inside, inch by aching inch.
Barnaby doesn't breathe again until the man is entirely buried inside of him, slick and hard and god, he trembles whenever Kotetsu moves, bent over his back, hands splayed over his ribs and dragging him back against him with every thrust, mouth sucking and biting along the pale expanse of shoulders and back as every movement splashes water and leaves Barnaby clinging to whatever he can for purchase that much more.
Kotetsu always makes him weak-kneed. This is no exception. There's a certain way he rolls his hips inside of him, striking perfectly once in awhile – makes him quiver and jerk harder back against Kotetsu, making Barnaby's bones nearly melt when he's held in place and Kotetsu just fucks him. His face, flushed to the point of hurting, buries into his own arm as he bends forward, savors every slick, agonizingly perfect slide, every twitch and twinge his own body affords him as Kotetsu pants against the side of his neck and whispers a number of lewd things that the man would never, ever growl outside of a closed door.
Finally, thankfully, his body surrenders and he comes with a shuddering, gasping breath. Everything is that much more heightened in that moment – pulse thudding sharp in his ears and the sensation of Kotetsu shoving that much harder into him intensified tenfold. Another hard shove, two, maybe three, Barnaby loses count with how he sees white through intense overstimulation, and Kotetsu comes, spilling himself inside of him and leaving Barnaby huffing out a harsh breath with how own body seems to shake that much harder from a climax that has already passed.
"Better," Kotetsu begins, breathlessly into his ear, "than brushing my teeth in the bath?"
Barnaby groans, and reaches around in an attempt to punch him, no matter how he's sort of half-smiling and dazed. "Shut up and get off of me."
He could do without interrupted baths, but this, Barnaby figures, is more than acceptable.