There's a bit of pleasure that comes with knowing you have something that others want, but can't have.

That's the case at the moment, having been dragged out of the house for once and to a bar that Barnaby certainly would never frequent with any sort of regularity. Kotetsu insisted, however, and once in awhile, Barnaby does find himself inclined to humor him, if only to avoid a few hours of grumbling (read: if only to keep the man properly happy, which was far more important than his own desire for silence and the solace of his laptop).

It's obvious now, though, that Kotetsu's regretting this. The bar is busy tonight, and Barnaby is taking his time nursing only his second beer while Kotetsu's on his third (maybe fourth) and attracting people. He's friendly, he's good-looking, he's warm, and really, should he be that surprised that he attracts people in spades when he glows like that? Barnaby is grateful that a few icy glances deter most individuals on his end, otherwise he wouldn't be able to watch with some measure of amusement.

She's pretty, the woman that has attached herself to him tonight. Pretty and tall and brunette and in a dress short enough to show off her long, shapely legs. Well, mostly shapely. A little flabby. Not as good as his.

"Won't you buy me a beer?"

She sits herself down next to Kotetsu, and Barnaby bites his lip to keep fromlaughing at the wince that briefly goes across Kotetsu's features. There's a moment of panic, sort of, and Barnaby merely shrugs when Kotetsu glances back over his shoulder to look at him.

As far from a threat as she is, it only gets worse from there – and really, Barnaby finds a morbid level of amusement in it, in watching her attempt to wheedle her way into Kotetsu's lap, wallet, perhaps she thinks she'll eventually make it to his bed? Funny, because Kotetsu's visibly flustered after awhile, as he always tends to be when people are a bit too aggressive when he doesn't want them to be. Barnaby calmly sips his beer, orders another one after awhile, and takes pride in knowing the flush that tends to highlight Kotetsu's cheeks when he is being inordinately pushy and firm isn't one of distaste – it's one of pleased, heated arousal, low-simmering and low-burning and wanting.

Finally, he takes pity on him.

"Kotetsu, we're going."

The older man nearly bolts, squirming ceased in favor of fleeing, and Barnabydoes enjoy the look on the woman's face, confused and put out and annoyed as Barnaby leads the way out after paying the tab. He doesn't put a single hand on Kotetsu – that's not necessary, and really, doesn't it speak more that he doesn't have to physically lead the man along? – but oh, does he savor a final glance over his shoulder at the girl, gaze searing and eyes sharp.

Mine.

"Damn it, Bunny, you could have done that soo-"

Out of sight, though, and Kotetsu is kissed - shoved against the brick wall of the building, hands fisted into the material of his clothing and bunching it at his shoulders. Barnaby's lips are hot against his, teeth sharp, nipping and pulling at his lower lip to better part them, to better thrust his tongue past them and taste, a lewd mimicry of what else he would like to do to Kotetsu in a far more private setting.

The older man's hands are grabbing, grasping at him, breath short and fast and gasping as one denim-clad thigh drags up between his legs, leaving him to lurch up, stretching nearly onto his tiptoes to better rub himself into friction that is far from satisfying. Kotetsu trembles, shivers, cheeks reddened, lips bruised, eyes downcast and lids heavy as he pants for a full breath, left clutching at Barnaby's back, fingers tracing over his shoulderblades and tongue flicking out over his lower lip as if tasting will make Barnaby's kisses come back.

"Let's go home, shall we?"

Oh, but it's satisfying, how quickly Kotetsu listens to his requests.