The first time Barnaby sucks Kotetsu's cock, he's nervous. A little shaky, all trembling hands and rapid breaths, sucked in through a slightly parted mouth as his full lower lip quivers with anticipation as Kotetsu guides him to his knees and unzips his fly.
Kotetsu, too, seems a little hesitant – he's probably never had another man's mouth around him, has he? The idea makes Barnaby's mouth go dry and he swallows hard, tongue flicking out to wet his lips as Kotetsu pulls his cock free, tangles a hand into his curls, and tugs him forward, openly encouraging.
"Go on, Bunny."
The fact that Kotetsu's voice is so breathless, a little nervous as well, but no lesseager… well, it makes Barnaby shudder and his tongue slides out again, tasting Kotetsu this time with a slow, flat drag of his tongue over the head of his cock.
Kotetsu's grip tightens, his hips thrusting forward on their own accord – the head of his erection slipping past shaky, parted lips with a low groan rumbling from his throat. And Barnaby eagerly tips his head forward, straining against the hold on his hair, his tongue a slick, heated slide against the underside of Kotetsu's cock as his cheeks hollow for that first, hard suck.
And Kotetsu's reaction is perfect – all heady lust as he growls and tightens his grip, fingers digging into Barnaby's scalp as Kotetsu tugs him forward and jerks his hips that much deeper. He hits the back of Barnaby's throat, and he swallows hard, struggling not to gag – but fuck, fuck he loves it, and his eyes flutter before sliding shut, his lips dragged all the way to the base of Kotetsu's cock and pressing tight around him with a groan of his own sufficiently muffled by every inch of him.
He can't help it, then. He reaches down to the fly of his own jeans, fingers fumbling and dragging and tugging to free his own cock and stroke himself as Kotetsu fucks his mouth with long, slow slides of his hips, clearly savoring every slick, heated movement. Barnaby cracks his eyes open and feels himself flush that much harder – feels his fingers tighten around his own erection for a rough, mindlessly clumsy stroke as he sees how Kotetsu is looking at him, gaze molten gold as it bores into him, watching his cock slide in and out of his mouth, past lips that must look so damned perfect wrapped around him –
Kotetsu's hold on his hair changes, then, still tight but tugging him back rather than forward, making Barnaby suck in a ragged gasp of air when Kotetsu slips past his lips with a wet, sticky pop. There's a gossamer thread that still connects them as Kotetsu's fingers wrap around himself, stroking hard, the sound of slick slides of flesh against flesh bidding Barnaby's eyes to shut again, panting as he tips his head back, and whimpering as he feels the hot splatter of Kotetsu's come against his cheek, the mess of it dripping down the long arc of his throat.
"God," Kotetsu mutters, and Barnaby, too, is lost, trembling as he spills himself over his own fist, trembling and biting into his own bruised lips.
This better become a reoccurring thing.