The Razor's Edge

[500 Themes: 221]


Kotetsu always seemed to find creative ways to torture him.

Sometimes, it was the simplest things. At the moment, with Barnaby finding himself fresh from the shower, hair dripping and water running down his bare chest in slow rivulets as he set upon the edge of his bed, he hardly expected anything to simply come from nowhere and light his senses afire.

But then again, Kotetsu was never predictable.

"Hey," was the only greeting Barnaby received, so easy and so casual that Barnaby hardly expected anything to come of it. The blond scarcely had time to glance up before Kotetsu was there in front of him, leaning in close, twisting his fingers into the wet curls of his hair and tugging his head up for a kiss.

Barnaby sighed – sagged backward – reached up, grasping for the older man's dark hair and drawing him in closer still. He was never sure what would bring on these little moments, but he couldn't complain. He'd never complain.

Somewhere in the midst of tugging and grasping and pulling, Kotetsu's tie slipped free from the tuck of his vest. Barnaby didn't notice until the drag of the soft material over his bare chest made him shiver and jerk upwards, startled by cool silk against suddenly too-hot skin.

His nerves twitched. Suddenly, everything was far too acutely focused on the damned thing – every scrape, every drag, every brush and slide and swish of the tie's material against his flesh was maddening. It was as if Kotetsu fingers themselves were toying with him, drawing over his flesh, twisting against his nipples and making him gasp with every touch and tug.

Damn him.

Kotetsu: master of the finest kind of torture, without even knowing it.