Full Title: Barnaby Brooks Jr's Ten Lessons on Pleasing Kotetsu T. Kaburagi
A fill from the Tiger and Bunny Anon Meme. Prompt: Barnaby takes his time with Kotetsu's body to get over his sexual inexpertise, experimenting and learning everything from sloppy French kisses up. Kotetsu tries to take a back seat and only give him pointers and respond when prompted.
Rated M for sexual content.
"I want to be the best lover."
"You can't be the best. You just do the best you can."
"I want to do the best I can at being the best."
"What's 'the best?'"
"Pleasing you, thoroughly, completely, and skillfully."
"…Okay. Uh, tall order, but… What do you want me to do?"
"Tell me what you do and don't like. Other than that… Sit back, relax. Enjoy yourself."
"Well, if you're trying for romantic, I like getting surprised with a little kiss. Just pick a time when you think I'm not thinking about it."
So Barnaby tries it, leaning over and planting his lips on Kotetsu's whenever they're alone and in a lull. The first few times, Kotetsu's eyes blow wide and he gapes at Barnaby with happy shock, before melting into a warm, affectionate look. And that's nice for a while until Kotetsu starts to predict when Barnaby likes kissing him, and he abridges the shock and just goes straight to the affection.
But Barnaby likes the shock. So he starts pushing for more and more surprising scenarios, such as places where 'unobserved' qualifies as 'alone,' or when Kotetsu should be focused on some other pressing task, like cooking, until the fateful day when Barnaby tried to kiss Kotetsu while both of them are in full armor. He flips up their faceplates and cranes his neck forward, only to bump chin guards with a sharp jolt. He spends a good fifteen seconds twisting his head around, striving to make contact with their mouths, until Kotetsu catches on and starts laughing hysterically at Barnaby's efforts. Barnaby flips his faceplate down to hide his humiliation and stalks away to respond to the emergency.
After that, no more Mr. Nice Guy. No more chaste little pecks on the lips. Barnaby will learn how to kiss Kotetsu so well he'll beg for it. Because Barnaby does not like anyone laughing at him.
The first serious tongue-kiss has an awkward start that Kotetsu mentions. "Don't start with your mouth so open. Start a little smaller and make me open up."
Barnaby obeys, and the second kiss begins more smoothly, and earning a "Good, Bunny." But no way is Barnaby's second kiss good enough to fully and truly satisfy Kotetsu, not the way Barnaby wants. So he keeps kissing, experimenting with the movement of his lips and tongue, the pacing, he pressure, the placement of his hands on Kotetsu's body. In response to the wide variety of tactics, Kotetsu starts talking again.
"Try not to shove your tongue that far back, it feels like I'm choking, and not in a good way… When your hands are near my face, be a little gentler… Teasing right under my tongue feels really nice… Mm… A little more, right there… Mmm… Mmmm…"
Barnaby swiftly learns Kotetsu's mouth, until he can make his partner tremble in his arms. But the instant he has a feeling of mastery, Kotetsu goes and turns the tables again, and kisses Barnaby not on the mouth, but along his neck, sending a shiver down Barnaby's spine and filling his head with Oh that feels good that feels so good how is he doing that because this feels so, so good…
Well, that just meant time to move on, and begin learning a new technique.
Barnaby's a little apprehensive about the concept of necking. He's felt it himself, and it felt nice, but the mechanics of it seem suspect. Bites? Along major veins and arteries? Leaving saliva on someone's neck? But the most he could find on the Internet to assuage his worries is "some like it more than others. Pay attention to your partner's needs and decide what's best."
Which is what Barnaby intended to do in the first place. Thanks, Oh So Helpful Dating and Relationship Websites.
He starts by mirroring some of the places Kotetsu kissed him, to the sides and just in front of the long, thin muscle running along his neck. Just kisses, to start, getting a feel for how to kiss something that couldn't kiss back. At least Kotetsu is much more helpful with his advice here—he can give "real-time feedback," so to speak, with his mouth free to tell Barnaby "Higher? Then back—that's good, yeah…"
The non-verbal cues are a lot stronger, too. From his lessons in kissing Kotetsu, Barnaby recognizes the little tremors that he takes as proof of a good kiss. They coincide with small, almost inaudible hitches in Kotetsu's breathing—he'll hold a breath for an extra second, let it go heavily and pause before inhaling again. Kotetsu doesn't hum anymore when Barnaby does something he likes, but Barnaby supposes this is Kotetsu's more natural reaction. Rather than consciously accommodating a kiss and trying to communicate through a pair of lips and a tongue, Kotetsu's breathing pattern changes all on its own.
Though sometimes he does speak, and they aren't words Barnaby likes hearing: "That's enough, Bunny. I don't want too many hickeys." That leaves Barnaby sitting around, frustrated, practicing his movements on Kotetsu's neck against his own hand. The practice pays off when Kotetsu forgets to caution Barnaby about hickeys, and he goes into work the next day with a wide array of colorful bruises decorating his neck, so many that not even his high collar and tie can hide them.
At training, Nathan teases if he's dating a vampire. Kotetsu, figuring Nathan will find out sooner or later, answers, "Yeah. Bunnicula."
Barnaby is fairly certain the next "step" on his trail down Kotetsu's body is his nipples, though he's not quite sure how to approach that one. Unlike groping a woman, a man's chest was not conducive for fondling through fabric, and the only times Kotetsu and Barnaby removed their shirts was for changing into their hero under suits or for photo shoots at work, both career-related situations where public displays of affection of any kind would not be tolerated.
So how to remove Kotetsu's shirt? Barnaby puzzled it back and forth for a little while, before deciding that the best solution is usually the simplest one.
"Kotetsu, may I remove your shirt?"
Kotetsu stares at him, eyebrows raised and mouth twisted like he's trying not to frown.
"I… huh? What for?"
Barnaby kisses him, just as he's been taught, starting small, swiftly opening Kotetsu wider and going straight for where he knows Kotetsu loves being kissed, hitting a series of sensitive spots in quick succession. He breaks, and Kotetsu gasps, eyes a little fuzzy.
"So does this mean you want—"
"I want to remove your shirt. That's all."
Kotetsu sets about stripping off his tie, vest, and button-down shirt, baring his torso for Barnaby. He trails his fingers down, smirking in a way he thinks is cool but looks absolutely dorky.
"Like what you see?" Kotetsu teases.
Oh, please. Of course he likes Kotetsu's body, toned and tanned, but it's such a corny line. He kisses Kotetsu one more time to shut him up, and then guides him back to Kotetsu's couch, sitting him down and preparing for his next move.
He starts with his hands, a preliminary survey of Kotetsu's chest and abs. It's a rough smoothness, riddled with miniature invisible scars hidden in his musculature, but most importantly warm, Kotetsu's skin is warm and alive under his fingers. He's still smiling at Barnaby as the cocky arrogance fades. He's staring down at Barnaby like he loves him.
Barnaby goes for the left nipple, tickling the brown nub with his first two fingers, skating up and down the little oval mountain. He not only hears Kotetsu gasp, he feels it, right beneath his hands. It encourages him on, to rub a little firmer, adding his thumb and pinching, pinching hard—
"Ouch," Kotetsu hisses, and Barnaby stops short.
"Are you all right, Kotetsu? Did I hurt you?"
"I'm fine, fine, just a little hard on that pinch," Kotetsu placates him. "You'll get the hang of it."
Barnaby looks down and sits back on his heels. But I'm not actually good at it, am I? Through kissing and necking, he had never once hurt Kotetsu. Pain marked the ultimate loss.
"Hey, cheer up, Bunny," Kotetsu lifts his chin and cups the side of his face. "It's all right. You were good. You don't need to push yourself like this."
Just good? "I want to push myself. For you," Barnaby says, meeting Kotetsu's eyes. The old man reacts to Barnaby's intense stare, and then leans back on the couch.
"All right," Kotetsu's hand drifts up to the right nipple, the one Barnaby neglected, and rolls it under his thumb. "Follow my lead."
Barnaby touches Kotetsu again, studying the older man's hand and mimicking him. His irregular pace is too hard to follow—fast or slow, pick one, you stupid old man—so Barnaby focuses on the motions, always careful not to pinch too hard, but copying Kotetsu's hand for the best angles.
In a minute, Kotetsu closes his eyes and lets his head fall back, and, fairly confident that he at least has the basics down and will not continue to hurt his partner, Barnaby shifts up onto the cushion beside Kotetsu and latches his mouth onto one of Kotetsu's favorite sweet spots on his neck, teasing gently with tongue and teeth. Kotetsu hums appreciation, until he makes another sound, a little higher, and breathy.
Barnaby has never heard Kotetsu moan before, and he instantly decides it is his new favorite sound in the entire world. For his hours of research and study and practice and experimentation, this one sound is the perfect reward. He wants to hear it again, and again, and again, forever, and Barnaby manages to tease two or three more sounds out of Kotetsu. Fantastic.
It's a miracle in and of itself that Kotetsu convinces Barnaby to stop and let Kotetsu return the favor. The old man is good, God, he's good, but for some reason, everything pales in comparison to the sound of Kotetsu's pleasure.
"Aaahn… Nhhg… A—Ahhh… Hnnh…"
Barnaby leans above Kotetsu, his hands splayed across Kotetsu's chest, aided by his mouth, working those abused and adored nipples with the skill of a professional and the passion of a fanatic. This time at Barnaby's place, Kotetsu lies back in the recliner, his clothed legs spread, toes brushing the floor, giving Barnaby a place to kneel while he enjoys this thorough "service." His hands tangle in Barnaby's hair and his fingertips brush his scalp, electric little tingles running all through his body, prompting him onward.
Barnaby knows Kotetsu's nipples like no other. He knows which one is more sensitive to his lips, which to his fingers, how to roll them between his teeth without biting down. He can almost calculate in terms of PSI how much pressure they enjoy before the pleasure turns to pain. He can flick his tongue across them with dizzying speed, maintain that action while his fingers tormented the other nipple, and sustain two independent tempos that occasionally ran in tandem before dividing again.
Louder. Barnaby is almost drunk on the sound, addicted to its escalation. He puts his whole body into his efforts, a knee nudging the inside of Kotetsu's thigh as he adjusts his angle, closer, harder, more, his mouth and hands in absolute harmony, drawing the moans out louder. Even Kotetsu is writhing now, his legs clamping the outside of Barnaby's knees, his back arching up into Barnaby's mouth, his hands tugging on Barnaby's hair as he cries out, lost in lust and pleasure.
But then, his body slows, he stops twisting in the chair, and Kotetsu grows quieter. Barnaby doesn't understand what's happening, his technique is flawless, his energy unmatched, and he closes his eyes and gives Kotetsu absolutely everything he has, but nothing can make him louder. After a minute, Kotetsu falls absolutely silent, his hands falling from Barnaby's hair. Barnaby opens his eyes and pulls back, afraid he's done something wrong.
Kotetsu stares up at some hazy point on the ceiling, his breathing deep and even. Barnaby surveys Kotetsu for any sign of injury—nothing but Barnaby's fierce love-bites along his chest—and trails down to the waistband of Kotetsu's pants, and his crotch. Even on the dark fabric, Barnaby can see a damp spot right underneath the pants' zipper. Barnaby considers poking, in the name of investigation, but he has a very strong suspicion of what it might be, and he holds his hand back.
After a minute, Kotetsu rouses himself and looks up at Barnaby, who is staring down at Kotetsu's pants.
"Kotetsu?" Barnaby asks, though he's not sure how to pose the question in his mind.
Kotetsu follows Barnaby's gaze, and his face immediately flushes deep crimson. Almost shoving Barnaby off the seat, Kotetsu sits up and leans over the wet patch, unable to look Barnaby in the eye.
"Uh…" he mumbles at last. "Can I… borrow some pants? And…" Kotetsu swallows. "…wash these… so…"
A little dazed, Barnaby retrieves clothes for Kotetsu, who gathers up his shirt and retreats to the bathroom to change. And then he stays there much longer than strictly necessary to clean up and change his clothes, leaving Barnaby alone to think about what just happened, idly rearranging his hair back into its normal style.
He just made Kotetsu orgasm from sucking on his nipples. He's simultaneously proud and disappointed—proud that his skills have advanced to the point where he can make Kotetsu climax, but disappointed that this is Kotetsu's first orgasm with Barnaby. He had been hoping for something more traditionally resembling sex rather than foreplay. But, pride wins out in the end. Kotetsu must have felt fantastic if he came just from nipple-play, and Barnaby loved listening to him enjoy himself. A win-win.
At long last, Kotetsu returns. He shuffles into the room, face still ridiculously red, and not just because the pants are a full three inches too short for him, and show his ankles. Barnaby watches as he avoids the chair and sits on the windowsill, the pants riding even higher, and looks at anywhere but Barnaby.
"Something wrong?" Barnaby asks.
Kotetsu makes his 'but I don't want to do an interview!' face, and then covers his face with his hands. "You're never going to let me live this down, are you?" Kotetsu groaned.
"Live it down?"
"That's never happened to me before! No one's ever touched my nipples and made me come. And in my pants! I couldn't even hold on to take my damn pants off…"
Well, Barnaby couldn't deny the inherent humiliation of having an orgasm in one's pants, but Kotetsu seemed to have a deeper issue than that. "It's all right. I hadn't realized you were so close to orgasm, either."
Kotetsu draws his legs up close to him and looks as far away from Barnaby as possible. "Like a damn teenager…" he mutters.
"Kotetsu, are you blaming yourself for coming?"
"At my age? It's not like I've never had sex before! I should—" Kotetsu pauses as he realize that one of them actually has never had sex before, and it's Barnaby. "S-Sorry, that just… Sorry."
Barnaby composes himself and takes a deep breath. "I promise you, Kotetsu, that there is no shame in what happened, and I promise not to hold it against you."
Kotetsu smiles, eyes thankful. "All right."
Barnaby returns the smile, before turning toward the bathroom. "I'll start your clothes in the washer."
"No no no, Bunny, I'll clean them!" Kotetsu cries, leaping up from the windowsill.
"I don't want you messing up my laundry room."
"It's not your problem! I can take care of it!"
"Remember that time I made you come in your pants from sucking on—"
"Bunny, you literally just promised you wouldn't bring that up!"
"Do you remember, like I do? Or should I wash your pants and not talk about how you—"
"Fine, you win! Just go!"
The brush with sexual climax reminds Barnaby that there are many, many ways to make love, and he's only scratched the surface. Preparing the tiny load of laundry—the soiled briefs, the stained pants, the texture, the smell—reminds Barnaby that a lot of those 'ways' are going to involve semen in places that it's not exactly intended to be, like mouths and asses.
He'd rather not think about that at the present moment. And besides, this "system" has worked for him and Kotetsu so far, Barnaby studying and practicing the sexual activity that he considers to be next in his curriculum. The next step is actual contact with Kotetsu's penis, colloquially, the hand job.
Barnaby had used the straightforward approach before to get Kotetsu's shirt off, but as these actions become more serious, Barnaby wonders if there's a better way, something a little subtler and not as direct. Kotetsu's been a bit guarded when it comes to groping, almost as if he's afraid he'll have another embarrassingly easy orgasm, but Barnaby doesn't see any shame in it—Barnaby worked extremely hard to get that good at nipple-teasing. It's not a blow to Kotetsu's ego, it's a boost to Barnaby's, but that is neither here nor there.
Luckily, Kotetsu happens to give him a perfect opportunity to do something. He asks if Barnaby wanted to go to the opera with him. Granted, it'd be with Barnaby's season tickets, but Barnaby understands the gesture, Kotetsu attempting to branch out and accommodate Barnaby's interests. Except he knows the opera does not suit Kotetsu's tastes at all. At the show, his partner tries to pay attention for the first twenty minutes or so, but he keeps fidgeting, giving off so much silent energy that, to Barnaby, he practically screams, "No one could has ever been more bored than I am right now!"
So Barnaby invites Kotetsu to the lobby with the intention of alleviating that boredom. Unravelling Kotetsu's polite lies that he totally wants to see the end, Barnaby all but drags Kotetsu out of the lobby and back to his car, but rather than the front seat, Barnaby slides in the back, bringing Kotetsu with him.
"You're far more interesting than any opera," Barnaby says, a truly heartfelt complement, as he draws Kotetsu into a kiss. He's an old master now, and not even close-quarters slows him down as he seeks, finds, and teases Kotetsu's favorite spots. Time passes, and they're content with an intimate little make-out. Kotetsu loses his tie so Barnaby can neck him more easily, Barnaby finds his hair hopelessly tangled again, but they have at least two hours before the theater-going audience returns to their cars. Barnaby has time.
Eventually, he has Kotetsu gasping. Then he gets one or two of those tantalizing moans, and he just can't hold back any longer, going for Kotetsu's belt.
"In your car?" is Kotetsu's only protest.
"In my car," Barnaby affirms.
He palms Kotetsu's dick, half-hard in his underwear, and gives it a few slow strokes. Kotetsu lets his head fall on Barnaby's shoulder, his quiet gasps right in Barnaby's ear—as if Barnaby needed any extra encouragement to touch Kotetsu. He grows hard in Barnaby's hand, straining against his underwear, so Barnaby pulls the thin cloth down and frees Kotetsu's erection. The cock feels a lot like Barnaby's own, the silky texture, the coarse stray hairs, the smooth head. He's not sure if he expected it to feel different, and the similarities comfort Barnaby a bit; masturbation has given him a shred of experience he can now use to please Kotetsu. A regular stroke, firm, teasing the head every so often, just to ease him into it. With Kotetsu moaning inches from his ear, the hard cock in his hand, the musky smell in the air, and the full knowledge this is sex, Barnaby grows hard as well, imagining how this would usually feel for himself, what Kotetsu is now feeling, and then when Kotetsu comes—
Before that happens, Kotetsu's hands drift down and make short work of Barnaby's own belt, reaching down and taking hold of Barnaby's erection. That's too much—Barnaby can't focus with Kotetsu's hands there. He loses his rhythm, gripping Kotetsu's cock rather than stroking it, utterly useless and counterproductive to his goal.
"T-Too distracting," Barnaby hates that he stuttered, but he grabs Kotetsu's wrist and pulls it away from his dick, fishing with his other hand for Kotetsu's discarded tie. "Let me finish what I started."
"But Bunny, can't we—together—"
"When I'm more experienced, I'll be able to handle it. Until then…"
Barnaby threads Kotetsu's tie through the seat's headrest and ties his wrists, very loose knots, but enough to keep Kotetsu away from Barnaby while he worked, stroking Kotetsu with all the techniques he can imagine. Kotetsu's a bit too flustered to give much feedback on what he likes best, so Barnaby just goes for variety, rubbing fast, slow, working with both hands, reaching down a little further and toying with Kotetsu's balls, running one thumb along his perineum.
Kotetsu begs, "Bunny, please… Oh, please… Ahhhn…"
Not quite confident enough to play the 'please what?' game, Barnaby sets about fisting Kotetsu's cock as fast and firm as he possibly can. Kotetsu gets loud again, a lot like that night he so desperately wants to ignore, until he finally screams, bucks furiously forward, and spills his come all over Barnaby's hand. Barnaby examines the fluid for a second—it's surprisingly hot when fresh—but then quickly retrieves a disinfectant wipe he has in his car exactly for this sort of situation (not specifically making-your-partner-come-in-the-back-of-your-car, but for messes in general).
When Barnaby frees Kotetsu, the older man has this evil little glint in his usually goofy face, and rather than simply get Barnaby off in return, he leans his partner down as far as the back seat will let him and mouths the head of Barnaby's dick with a wet, open kiss. That's just the start of Barnaby's ecstasy, as Kotetsu licks and sucks and sends his brain spinning, and Barnaby helplessly clutches anything he can grasp until he comes, his whole body electric and alive and so good.
His first coherent thought as Kotetsu cleans up is, That's next. I'll learn that next.
From that point, the sex barrier is broken. With a much more honorable orgasm under his belt, as well as reciprocation for Barnaby, Kotetsu has very few reservations touching and being touched. They have a few more nights of "heavy petting," until Kotetsu takes the initiative and fucks Barnaby proper, which is an alarmingly exhilarating experience with a lot of pain and a lot of pleasure, and an absolute fullness and loss of control that Barnaby still can't quite describe. Even though Barnaby's been setting the pace for their relationship so far, he's glad that he was the first submissive partner, so that when he advances into the arena of penetrative sex, he'll have a frame of reference.
Barnaby sticks to his hands for a while, learning how Kotetsu likes his cock touched, peppering his studies with a few more cases of "that nipple trick," as Kotetsu's come to call it. Actually, Barnaby's new favorite trick is teasing, keeping Kotetsu on the brink of orgasm as long as possible, ignoring his pleas as he experiments with different sensations—fingertips, fingers, palm, and the placement of those surfaces. Kotetsu's ties have again been put to good use, but after Barnaby reminded Kotetsu of his goal to learn exactly how to please Kotetsu, he's gotten much better about lying back and letting Barnaby practice without interference.
It helps that Barnaby is practicing sex, and Kotetsu doesn't see the point in denying Barnaby the chance to improve at something that makes him feel good.
Once Barnaby can skillfully and swiftly (or not-so-swiftly) bring Kotetsu off with his hands, the transition to using his mouth logically isn't very difficult. For one, he's already well-versed in how to drive Kotetsu absolutely crazy, so the difference is trading his fingers and palms for lips and tongue. Barnaby only runs into trouble when he starts actually sucking on Kotetsu, putting his cock in his mouth as far as it would go and realizing, Wait, what do I do now? Kotetsu's dick fills Barnaby's mouth too full for him to do much with his tongue, all the best spots are in the sides and back of his mouth, and he can't even fit the whole thing in—not without choking himself. So he pulls back and tries again, rather than swallowing down as much as possible, focusing on the part he could comfortably fit in his mouth and using his hand on the rest. Frankly, it tastes horrible, but encouraged by Kotetsu's loud moans and quivering body, Barnaby continues, drawing on all his self-taught skill.
Turns out Barnaby underestimated the effect of his mouth on Kotetsu's self-control. Much sooner than he expected, Kotetsu shouts and thrusts, hitting the back of Barnaby's throat. Startled, Barnaby forgets about the rational reaction of 'get Kotetsu out of his mouth' and gags as Kotetsu releases, salty-bitter semen filling his mouth. Barnaby chokes on the flavor, the surprise, the heat, the disgusting flavor. Kotetsu's cock slides out of his mouth, and Barnaby claps a hand over his mouth, half out of fear he'll vomit, but the other half, understanding that he should learn to do this. If he wants to be good at blow jobs, this is bound to happen from time to time, and even if he can never drink down Kotetsu's come like milk, he should at least be able to swallow without fuss.
After a few false starts, Barnaby manages to swallow it down, though the aftertaste remains, and he looks up at Kotetsu, his partner's face still loose and relaxed post-orgasm, but quickly tightening with concern.
"You… swallowed?" There's almost a hint of reverence in his voice, and Barnaby nods. "But—the taste—"
"I'll get used to it," Barnaby mutters, when he suddenly feels Kotetsu's hands cup his cheeks, pulling him close for a kiss. Barnaby resists at first—if Kotetsu was just complaining about it, why would he want to taste his own come in Barnaby's mouth?—until he realizes it's Kotetsu's way of thanking him, by taking a little of the grossness himself.
So Barnaby kisses back.
How much lube is enough? Barnaby wonders as he drizzles a little bit of the thick, clear fluid onto his hand, and then spreads it around his first two fingers, careful to cover last bit of the two digits, even in between and down the knuckles a bit. Can you have too much? Barnaby supposes, no, there's no way to have too much lube, but it is possible to spend too much time with the lube, leaving a flustered partner time to get bored and lose interest.
Barnaby crawls across the bed and gently spreads Kotetsu's legs apart, careful of the thick coating of lube on his fingers. Then, slowly stroking his cock with his clean hand, Barnaby presses his first finger against Kotetsu's ass, wiggling past the ring of muscle.
Kotetsu holds his breath, rather deliberately, trying to adjust to Barnaby's finger. Barnaby knows it's not the intrusion itself that feels good—it's motion, and especially hitting the right target. Trying to map his own body against Kotetsu's, working from memories of what he felt when Kotetsu had done this to him and from much less "romantic" biological models, Barnaby pushes his finger in a little deeper, curling and searching Kotetsu's inside. He speeds up a little with the hand on Kotetsu's cock, because even if the pain is unavoidable, he can at least make it bearable.
He knows he's found what he's looking for when Kotetsu jolts, legs spasming, and he cries out, "Aaahhaannn, Bunny!" And from there Barnaby is relentless, tickling the bundle of nerves with a rapid twitch perfected during all those hours Barnaby spent teasing Kotetsu's nipples. Kotetsu moans in complete surrender, hands unconsciously drifting to his chest and down. But Barnaby will not tolerate Kotetsu interfering with his results. He captures the offending hands before they can touch too boldly and holds them aside, now neglecting Kotetsu's cock. Kotetsu moans redouble, peppered with "Please, oh, Bunny, ahh—I—I—haa—pleeease!"
Barnaby relishes in the sound, and pulls out his finger far enough for his second finger to join it. Kotetsu whimpers loudly against the intrusion, giving Barnaby pause—with one hand in his ass and the other holding his hands, how can he touch and relax Kotetsu? He settles on long, slow licks up the side of Kotetsu's dick as he pushes his fingers deeper, back to that spot, until Kotetsu is weeping and screaming and begging Barnaby with all his might, insisting he's about to die. Barnaby doubts that Kotetsu's life is actually in danger, but he releases Kotetsu's hands and returns to rubbing his cock, matching the breakneck pace of his two fingers, until Kotetsu comes pulsing, crying Barnaby's name.
He wants to think about the strange phenomenon of his previous skills improving his performance in new techniques, but once he cleans them up, he notices how Kotetsu looks so deliciously peaceful in the afterglow, and decides that philosophy can wait for tomorrow morning, crawling in beside him for a cuddle.
Embarrassingly enough, the first time Barnaby tries to fuck Kotetsu, he comes within four strokes. Kotetsu is just so tight and perfect that he can't help himself. As soon as he realizes what happened, Barnaby swiftly sets about fingering Kotetsu so at least he'd finish, too, and maybe not notice that Barnaby had come so quickly.
Kotetsu did notice, but doesn't tease him about it. He's genuinely thankful. "I know you stretched me and had lube and everything, but it still hurt way more than I had thought. Felt like you were going to tear me in half, so when you stopped, I was kinda glad. So… can we take it slow, with this?"
Barnaby is more than happy to take it slow, so hopefully he can build up enough resistance to Kotetsu's sweet, sexy body to make sex good for him, too. When they try it again, Kotetsu asks Barnaby to stop very quickly—not pull out, but just stop—and they spend a long time just lying there, Barnaby braced above Kotetsu as the older man adjusts to the overwhelming sensation of fullness that Barnaby still isn't quite accustomed to. Barnaby wonders, in between sparks of pleasure when Kotetsu shifts the slightest inch and his dick pushes in or pulls out, if it might have been his own inexperience that caused him, when he was in Kotetsu's position, to just take whatever Kotetsu gave him, no matter how much it hurt. Though he followed the hurt with supreme pleasure, Barnaby still has to wonder, about the differences between—
Oh my God Kotetsu you're ahhh you're moving you're so good you're everything oh my God…
Kotetsu, of his own accord, rolls his hips and begins thrusting himself onto Barnaby, gripping the blonde's shoulders with all his might for stability and pain relief. And it's just too hot and amazing and Barnaby snaps his hips forward in response, eyes closed, head falling forward as he—he—ahhn—Kotetsu—Kotetsu!
Later, while chewing on his bottom lip, Barnaby decides, Well, they say third time's the charm. He'll get the hang of this.
Kotetsu howls so loud the neighbors will probably complain. And Barnaby doesn't care. Because he has Kotetsu right where he wanted him from the start, pleasured in every area at every moment beyond all semblance of self-control. Barnaby can play Kotetsu's body like an instrument, tease and tickle and press and lick and rub and pinch and stroke and suck until Kotetsu is a screaming mess of pleasure. And he's so beautiful when he comes apart at the seams that it just encourages Barnaby more.
Barnaby's latest success has Kotetsu still trembling, fingers twitching long after his orgasm. Lying back and pulling the sheets over them, Kotetsu turns his head to look at Barnaby, his eyes slightly crossed as he breathes heavily through his mouth, cheeks flushed with satisfaction.
"You're… the best," he says earnestly, holding his arms out to his partner.
And Barnaby pulls him close, silently overjoyed that all his practice paid off.