Counting Years

[500 Themes: 83]


Barnaby wants to kiss him.

Actually, the urge startles him at first. When has he ever wanted to do that to someone? Even having a crush while in the hero academy, it was far from an urge to do something like that. It was more an intellectual thing, a sharing of minds and interests but this –

No.

He's not attracted to Kotetsu's mind, per say. He's attracted to the way Kotetsu does things.

Barnaby can't help but wonder if those lips that spew such warm, easy words would be as warm against his own – as warm against his skin, against his neck, feeling his pulse thud and quicken with the shortening of his own breath. He can't help but wonder if they're soft even if they're a bit chapped, from work and too much of it and not enough time to even think of buying a damned stick of lip balm.

He wants to soothe them, if they're not.

He wants to run his tongue over them, taste him, taste the man that looks so warm and acts so warm and is so warm that Barnaby can feel him from across the room. He wants to grab him, touch him, curl up in him and envelop him all the same and oh, god, it hurts, not knowing how to make that happen.

Barnaby tries, once. He lifts a hand, reaches out, almost touches. He's imagined in his head how Kotetsu's skin must feel – hot and smooth and taut over corded muscle. Perfect, no matter the scars dotting it, and Barnaby's seen them enough in locker rooms to count them, to have them memorized.

He wants to memorize them with his fingers, rather than his eyes.

It hurts not knowing how to make this work, and so he waits.

Stews.

Wants.

There's only one thing he's ever wanted as much as this, and even then, Kotetsu is there to help with that and make it seem like less of a burden.

And so he wants this even more.