All he can process after a certain point is that Kotetsu wants him – wants him badly enough that in the middle of some downtown research library, he's dragged aside, shoved to his knees with insistent hands on his shoulders, watching as Kotetsu unbuckles his pants and pulls out his already hard cock.

He wonders, really, if he has something to do with Kotetsu being far more…proactive about these things nowadays.

Barnaby, of course, knows the answer all too well as he's dragged forward with a hand wrapped up in his hair, and his lips part obediently, tongue flicking out to taste the head of Kotetsu's cock that is pressed against them. He whimpers a bit in the back of his throat, wanting so badly for Kotetsu to just shove him against the nearest wall and ride his face, but the man waits – drags it out, rocks his hips forward just slightly, watching through hooded eyes as Barnaby sucks on the head of him only, licking and panting out hot huffs of eager breath.

"What would you do… if someone just came around the corner right now and saw all of this, huh?"

Barnaby flushes. Normally he's the one tormenting Kotetsu with such words, but the tables are turned and Kotetsu is using the hold on his hair to push him back, stumbling and skidding on his knees. His back hits the near-by wall and Barnaby pants into the air as his head is wrenched back, Kotetsu's cock rubs against his cheek, and he strangles down a mewl, shuddering from how much he himself aches.

"Guess what, Bunny. I can feel someone's eyes on us right now."

And so he freezes, eyes wide as Kotetsu's fingers cinch more tightly in his hair, refusing to let him pull away. He isn't sure if the man is telling the truth or not – but fuck, fuck, the idea of someone seeing – his flush deepens further, especially when Kotetsu's cock is pressed against his lips again and Kotetsu is just muttering go on, open up, you were so eager before and Barnaby whimpers, doing as he's told, breath shaky as he opens up and feels the hard flesh slide over his tongue, deeper than before and in one stroke, bumping the back of his throat.

He swallows hard, breath inhaled raggedly through his nose, and Kotetsu leans forward with a grunt, bracing one hand against the wall as he holds Barnaby in place and slowly fucks his mouth. "Just imagine, Bunny… what they're thinking. Barnaby Brooks, Jr. – a goddamned celebrity, getting his face fucked like this and liking it – "

Barnaby's groan is muffled by how Kotetsu is essentially gagging him, and his eyes flutter shut when Kotetsu deliberately shoves his hips forward that much harder. He's right. If there is someone watching, they probably think he's some harlot – some whore, meant to be on his knees if he likes this so damned much. And he doesn't even care if they think that at this point – not with Kotetsu using him like this so perfectly, pulling at his hair and sliding his cock down his throat again and again – not when his own hand is clawing at his belt, slipping past his jeans and underwear just to touch himself, no matter how clumsily in moments of desperate need –

Kotetsu shoves himself in as deep as he can, and Barnaby feels him twitch against his tongue – a hard throb preluding him actually coming, spilling himself down his throat. Barnaby swallows, panting as Kotetsu draws back, tongue flicking out to instinctively lick him clean, wanting an actual taste of the man he had riled up so very much.

"When we get home," Kotetsu breathes as he looks down at him, expression smug and sated, "we'll actually take care of you."

And Barnaby just nods, dazed and breathless and mindless at this point. If there is someone watching, he hopes they're enjoying the show.