God, Bunny looks good like that.
Kotetsu's not quite sure what brought this on – Bunny seemed irritated moments before, something about him leaving his toothbrush in the shower for the millionth time – but that went quickly out of his mind when Barnaby shoved him up against the tile wall, kissed him hot and wet and sloppy underneath the wash of hot water, and left him groaning, arching as Barnaby slid down, kissing and nipping and licking his way down Kotetsu's chest and hips and groin and fuck, that was already his mouth on the head of his cock, sucking and licking with a tongue too devilish to exist.
"Bunny – " is Kotetsu's ragged gasp as he sinks back against the wall of the shower, fists his hands into wet, messy curls and pulls, relishing the groan that rumbles up from Barnaby's throat as much as his own. Those perfect, plush lips are wrapped around him and when Kotetsu looks down, he almost regrets it, because every muscle in his body tightens – his hips jerk, his knees wobble, because god, the sight of Barnaby down there, flushed and with his brow knitted, lips stretched around his cock – it's too much.
No way in hell is he going to last. It's impossible, and Barnaby seems intent on making a point of how good he is at this. And oh, he's good – every lick, every suck, he's pulling Kotetsu deeper down his throat, swallowing around him and sinking down until Kotetsu's buried in his mouth entirely, long, elegant fingers clutching at Kotetsu's hips to hold him in place as he hollows his cheeks and pulls back with an audible, obscene slurp, tongue laving at the head of him and Kotetsu can barely breathe with how hot he is, how much his toes curl and how much he throbs.
Bunny's not through with him, though. His fingers wrap around him, stroking him, squeezing him, his lips pressed just to the very tip of him, and Kotetsu shudders and jerks and growls as he can't stand it and comes so quickly that it's embarrassing, all over those swollen lips, down his chin and onto his chest, only for it to be washed away by the heavy fall of the shower moments later.
"Jesus, Bunny," he manages, panting, sliding down the shower wall because he's so overheated that he thinks he'll faint, and Barnaby just looks at him, a picture of false innocence if he's ever seen it.
"Don't leave your stuff sitting around. It's annoying."
"… Was that supposed to be punishment? Because I think you got it wrong."
"Well," Barnaby offers as he slowly rises, "not so much punishment as simply making a point. Leave your things scattered about, and I'll leave you on the ground useless. Next time, it won't be by way of that, either."
Point taken, plain and simple.