Barnaby's favorite thing about now is waking up in the same bed as Kotetsu.

It's good, being this comfortable. Kotetsu is warm and solid against his back, their legs sort of haphazardly tangled and there's usually one, strong arm thrown over and around him. Kotetsu doesn't snore, thankfully, but he has a habit of talking in his sleep sometimes – low, husky little mutters, all drifting over his ear while he's sleeping and while he's slowly waking, all making him shiver and twist and squirm and wake up hard.

Obnoxious, really, because he tries to point out to his hormones that he's a man in his twenties, not a teenager – ah, but he supposes he never had much time for this sort of thing as a teenager and he's making up for it now, tangled in the sheets of a bed he shares with another man. Barnaby can't imagine it any other way, but it's still awkward waking up like this morning after morning, oftentimes pushing it to the side and brushing it off for the sake of more sleep for the both of them.

This morning isn't going to be one of those mornings.

With a groan, he rolls over, buries his face into the side of Kotetsu's neck – feeling the rough stubble of the man's past-due shaving drag against his own cheek as he nuzzled closer still, wriggled against him and exhaled a hot breath against the man's throat, shivering as their groins pressed close. Kotetsu isn't entirely innocent in this. Far from it, really, because he's hard, too, even if he's still more asleep than Barnaby – hard and growling a little bit underneath his breath as he loops an arm automatically about the younger man, dragging him closer.

"You're not asleep," Barnaby accuses with a breathless laugh, his fingers tugging at the waistband of Kotetsu's boxers, and the older man just groans at him, keeping his eyes tightly squeezed shut.

"It's early, Bunny."

Barnaby's fingers tug a bit more, pulling Kotetsu's cock free and savoring how the man hisses against his shoulder, jumps and jerks into his touch. "I can stop."

"Don't you dare."

His teeth nip gently into the curve of Kotetsu's shoulder, all as he fumbles another hand underneath a pillow. Moments later, Barnaby's palm is slick with lube as it drags over the length of Kotetsu's cock, leaving the other man to gasp and growl and lurch into his touch as Barnaby squeezes, dragging his thumb firmly over the head of it and he himself groans as Kotetsu twitches and thrusts up into his grasp.

Everything's a bit of a blur, literally and figuratively. Not being able to see clearly makes him that much more sensitive to everything else – Kotetsu's scent, heady and musky in his nose, the rasp of his beard and the tautness of his skin as Barnaby bites at it, sucks upon it, all as he takes his own cock in hand as well, inhaling sharply as their hot flesh drags against one another, his hips bucking forward and his hand firmly, tightly stroking.

Neither of them last – it's too early for that, and they're still sleepy and fumbling, grasping at one another languidly but eagerly. Kotetsu's own hands lift up to bury in the thick of Barnaby's hair, nails digging into his scalp as he kisses the blond thoroughly – nips and sucks at his lower lip like he's claiming that mouth all over again, and Barnaby huffs out hot breaths in between kisses, moans into Kotetsu's mouth and comes hard, shivering and aching and shivering harder still as he feels Kotetsu come all over his hand only moments afterwards.

"Morning," Kotetsu grumbles breathlessly after another moment, planting a warm, wet kiss to the corner of Barnaby's mouth, and Barnaby simply sighs, dropping his head against Kotetsu's shoulder to make himself comfortable for at least a little while longer.

"Mm. Good morning."