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It’s 3:25 PM. It's the middle of the afternoon, and Johnny’s fucking horny.
He's not just popping boners out of nowhere, no. He's well past puberty. It's a complicated situation.
Kenshi is in L.A, and that fact alone doesn't make him crazy (not fully, at least).
It's just that since the two of them started hooking up a few months ago, it feels like every time they see one another they can't keep their hands off each other.
Johnny has decent self restraint, he does. Kenshi is just fucking hot. He acts like nothing gets to him and it gets under Johnny’s skin. Kenshi is huge and muscular and covered in tattoos and really good with his hands. He’s controlling in such a sweet way that it tears Johnny apart slowly, strips him down to the barest version of himself. How can Johnny not freak out any time Kenshi is near him?
So, it’s three in the afternoon, and Kenshi is in L.A. Johnny hopes that Kenshi’s in a private place when he asks his phone to read their texts aloud.
Hey, do you wanna come over? I miss you, Johnny types shamelessly, making sure to add some obnoxious heart-related emojis because he knows Kenshi laughs whenever he hears them.
Jeez. He feels like he's in his twenties again. Sitting on his couch, hard over just thinking about a hookup. Well, Kenshi’s not just a hookup. He's Johnny’s best friend, they just happen to fuck every time they see each other now. It's complicated, they’ve got something going on that's straight out of a bad movie Johnny would turn down.
Kenshi responds almost instantaneously. They're both just a bit out of it.
Yes, just finishing up some work and I’ll be over, Kenshi’s reply reads. Johnny groans a little in excitement, grips himself over his sweatpants.
Yeah, he's probably kinda crazy.
Whatever. He’s eager, sue him. He does a little cheer when he stands up from the couch, skipping his way up the stairs to his bedroom. He needs to clean up, even if he's been doing nothing all day, he will freak out if he feels dirty at all during sex.
So he showers, meticulous but quick in how he scrubs his skin. He doesn't open himself up yet, knowing Kenshi likes to do that on his own.
His erection hasn't flagged at all and it's honestly kind of embarrassing. He wants Kenshi so badly it's ridiculous.
Twenty minutes have passed, and Johnny’s putting on lotion (he has to moisturize, he doesn't care if he's on a time crunch) when his phone dings again.
About fifteen minutes out, the notification on his screen says. Johnny finishes getting himself composed and types out a yayyyy after washing his hands. He doesn't need to say a lot, the situation doesn't really warrant coherent texts.
Johnny’s only got briefs on right now, but he supposes he should put on regular clothes. Pretend to have some decorum. He makes sure to leave his bottle of lube and a condom on his bedside table so he doesn't have to rummage through everything later.
He's just coming downstairs after throwing on a button up and jeans when there's a knock on the door. He jumps a little.
“Coming,” Johnny sings loudly, though he's not even sure Kenshi can hear it all the way outside. It's the thought that counts.
Johnny bounces with each step as he walks to the door, smiling when he opens it even if Kenshi probably can't make out his features.
Lord, Kenshi looks fucking good. He's wearing his normal attire, a suit jacket and pants with a button up underneath, but he looks a little disheveled. His hair is falling out of place, his face is flushed, and his stubble is a bit more grown out than he usually lets it be. The first few buttons of his shirt are undone, and Johnny can see where some of his tattoos begin. He wants to tackle the man.
“Hey, Ken-doll. You look tired, did you rush to get here?” Johnny takes Kenshi’s hand in his, basically pulling him inside. He closes the door behind the two of them, entwining their hands properly and placing a kiss on Kenshi’s.
“Shut up, Cage. You're the one who invited me here.”
Kenshi brings his free hand up to Johnny’s face, brushes over his jaw before landing on his shoulder.
Johnny hums to conceal his groan, “and you came running to me. Can't stay away for too long.” Johnny leans forward, pressing their foreheads against one another. They're still at the front door, can’t even make it into the house.
“I guess that makes two of us, superstar,” Kenshi breathes, their faces so close he doesn't want to speak up. Johnny moves to kiss him, but Kenshi pulls away, chuckling softly. Johnny huffs.
“You're eager today, Cage. Let me put Sento down, at least.”
Kenshi is annoying and Johnny wants to punch him, so he does. There's no power to it, just light against his shoulder (because they both know Johnny could seriously hurt him), but Kenshi still smacks his hand like he's committed a felony.
“Fine, whatever. Can't even engage in some light foreplay with you, gotta get right to the point, super serious Agent Takahashi.”
“Oh my god, you're so annoying. You'll get your foreplay, just let me get off your door and put down the deadly weapon.” Johnny punches Kenshi's shoulder again, but turns to go upstairs nonetheless. He's right, and Johnny doesn't really wanna get carried away against a door.
Johnny still feels like being a pain in the ass, so he replies as he walks away. “You're always carrying a deadly weapon with you, Takahashi. That dick is lethal.”
“And your crude temperament is killing me.”
Kenshi catches up to Johnny and pushes him faintly, to which Johnny runs up the stairs cackling. He makes a point to take long, obnoxious strides, knowing Kenshi can see him right now.
Kenshi takes his sweet time, taking his shoes off before ascending up the stairs, humming some song to himself. Johnny’s standing at the top, hands on his hips.
“Come on Kenshi. I know you can see me. You're not funny.”
“What are you, five? Just be patient. I'm being virtuous here, taking in the scenery.”
“You can't even see the scenery, shut up and come kiss me.”
Kenshi groans when he reaches the top of the stairs, taking Johnny’s face in his hands and placing a chaste kiss on his lips. Johnny chuckles, “slow down Ken. Don't fall backwards.”
“Wouldn’t be the worst fall I’ve taken.” Kenshi pushes Johnny’s chest, and the two of them continue to Johnny’s room.
Once they've entered the bedroom and Kenshi’s placed Sento on a couch against the wall, they both lose it. Kenshi pushes Johnny onto his bed as his vision fades away, chuckling as the air is knocked out of the other man. He leans over Johnny, nosing at his jaw and kissing his cheeks. Johnny whines and redirects Kenshi’s lips to his own, finally indulging himself. Kenshi’s lips fall open first, and he swipes his tongue along Johnny’s. He tastes like coffee, and that's kind of odd, but Johnny fucking loves it for whatever reason.
Kenshi lets up way too soon. He’s panting, chest heaving and flushed with exertion even if they haven’t done anything yet. His palms are pressed flat on the mattress, on either side of Johnny’s shoulders, and it makes him feel trapped in the best way possible.
“What are you waiting for, Ken? It's not like you can stare at me, come on.”
Johnny brings one of his own hands up to play with the hair behind Kenshi’s ear. It's soft, a little dry. Kenshi takes hold of the hand, pinning it down to the bed where his own hand was a second ago. Johnny huffs.
“I can't see you, but I can feel you. You're breathing heavily. Your body emanates so much heat it's insane. Your dick keeps twitching against my thigh.” Kenshi leans down again, his nose brushing against Johnny’s neck, placing a few small kisses there. “I can smell you, too. Always smell clean, like cologne, but not the kind that burns your nose, just a faint scent.”
Kenshi sniffs underneath Johnny’s jaw, and it makes him giggle. “Ken-doll, you're crazy.” Kenshi's mouth moves further down Johnny’s neck near his Adam’s apple, sucking on the skin lightly. “You smell like sweat too. It's good.”
That makes Johnny whine, and he pushes at Kenshi’s head. “Ken, stop, not there, I have to be on camera.” Kenshi grumbles something unintelligible at him and moves down to mouth at Johnny's collarbone. He moves his hands from the mattress, begins to unbutton Johnny’s shirt, slowly kissing over his shoulder as the skin is revealed.
Johnny hears Kenshi inhaling again, and he can't really see where his head is from how close they are, but he can feel his nose near the crease of his underarm.
“Kenshi, you’re so weird. Just fuck me already.”
“Didn't you want foreplay?” Kenshi pulls Johnny’s shirt off completely, placing it aside on the bed, moving now to kiss over his stomach. It makes Johnny shudder.
“Yeah, foreplay, not you snorting me like a line.” Johnny sits up a little as Kenshi kneels on the floor, fingers undoing Johnny’s pants as the lips on his stomach continue.
“I’m not you. I've never done cocaine.”
“That's not the point, asshole,” Johnny kicks at Kenshi’s side, supporting himself with his hands on the bed now so he can watch the man.
God, Kenshi is so fucking gorgeous. His arms flex through his suit jacket as he pulls Johnny’s pants off, the tattoos covering his hands a stark contrast to Johnny’s bare skin. His thighs are nearly bulging through his pants with the way he's kneeling.
Kenshi’s kisses over Johnny’s stomach have turned to little bites, trailing down his navel, to just the hem of Johnny’s briefs. Johnny places a hand on the back of Kenshi’s head, feeling his dick twitch up against his partner’s chin. They both cackle like idiots.
“Can you at least take your shirt off too, Ken-doll? As much as I do love being exposed, there’s a lack of balance here.” Johnny speaks up to alleviate some of his embarrassment. He feels kind of insane for already being so worked up.
“Yeah, shit, forgot.” Kenshi pulls back to work at the buttons on his clothes, placing each item nicely on the floor next to him. Such a patient man, it makes Johnny frustrated.
Once Kenshi’s shirt is gone, Johnny can finally admire his chest. It's truly one of his favorite parts of the other man’s body. His tattoos trail up his arms and over his shoulders, only ending just below his collarbones. The flurry of colors complements his pretty tan skin. His chest and stomach are a little flushed, the faint hairs there standing up with goosebumps.
The slight outline of his dick is visible through his pants. Johnny wants to scream.
As flustered as Kenshi looks, he will never act on his eagerness. He always takes his time. His lips are back to Johnny’s torso, now biting lightly at one side of his v-line. Still just above his briefs.
“Ken-doll, come on, please,” Johnny starts to whine properly, like a layer of his resolve has been chipped away, and he's slowly falling apart. He grips at Kenshi's hair with one hand, attempting to push him downwards.
“Be patient, superstar,” Kenshi titters, and he finally begins to pull Johnny’s briefs off. He places those neatly with his other items of clothing, too.
The kisses over Johnny’s v-line continue, still trailing downwards slowly. Kenshi bites at him gingerly, likely to leave small marks, but not full-on bruises. Johnny’s head is spinning.
Johnny whimpers pathetically when Kenshi’s mouth meets the crease of his thigh, sucking a proper bruise there. His stubble scratches at Johnny’s dick and that makes him twitch again, for some reason.
Kenshi sucks a slow trail, down to Johnny's sac, and Johnny hears him sniffing again. “Smell good here too, Cage.”
“You're insane, Kenshi, oh my god, just fuck me already.” Johnny smacks the back of his head, and Kenshi shuts him up by taking one of his balls into his mouth. Johnny sobs and pulls at Kenshi’s hair, to which he lets up, instead moving to lick at the base of his dick.
“Stop, please, Ken, sensitive there, it's too much, just fuck me, please.” Johnny’s voice is pitching higher, and he starts to buck his hips towards Kenshi’s mouth. Kenshi hums against his length, licking upwards, ending with a kiss to his tip. It's flushed almost red, and there's some precum beading at the slit that Kenshi licks up.
“You're so cute. Hand me the lube?”
Johnny only grunts in affirmation, reaching around himself to grab the bottle on his bedside table. He has to take a deep breath before turning around again.
When his eyes meet Kenshi’s face again he gasps a little. God, he's stunning. Kenshi looks so eager, and he’s still panting. His head is resting against Johnny’s thigh, fingers brushing through some of the hair there.
“You're pretty, Ken,” Johnny grunts as he lifts the blindfold from his eyes. Kenshi mumbles a tiny “huh” as he raises his head off of Johnny’s thigh. He moves his hand as well, palm facing upwards for the lube.
“Just wanted to see your face.” He places the bottle in Kenshi's hand, throwing the blindfold onto the pile of clothes by Kenshi. Johnny takes a minute to admire his scars. From the tissue of where his eye sockets were, they spark outwards around where his eyelids and creases had been. Like fireworks.
“Ah. Thank you? I think you're the pretty one, superstar.”
The flush on Kenshi's face is more visible without the cloth over his eyes. Johnny wants to kiss him all over. Kenshi clicks open the cap of the bottle in his hand, spreading lube over two of his fingers. He places the container on the edge of the bed, making sure it won’t fall over.
“I wish you could see yourself then, Ken-doll.” Johnny brushes a few strands of hair out of Kenshi’s face as the man uses his clean hand to push Johnny’s leg up on the bed.
Kenshi ignores his statement. “Gonna stand up, my knees hurt. Did you open yourself up for me?” He moves to his feet and uses the hand on Johnny’s thigh to push him back on the mattress. It makes Johnny’s dick jump.
“No, wanted you to do it,” Johnny grumbles. He lifts his other leg up off the floor, spread out and vulnerable for Kenshi.
Kenshi hums, “cute,” and places his lubed fingers against Johnny’s perineum, dragging them down leisurely to rub over his hole. He teases Johnny for a bit to hear him whine, running his fingers up from his hole to just below his balls. Johnny watches his forearm flex with the movement, the lines of his tattoos rippling along his arm.
“Oh my god, Kenshi. You're so annoying, Ken-doll, please.” Johnny kicks lightly at Kenshi’s side again, grabbing Kenshi's wrist with one of his hands and trying to pull him in.
“Johnny. Be patient. You can wait.”
“No I can't, Ken, God dammit,” Johnny’s words turn into a wail as Kenshi smacks one of his ass cheeks with his free hand. He uses that hand to push Johnny’s leg back, up against his chest, and Johnny falls back onto the bed.
Using the moment that Johnny’s been caught off guard, Kenshi slips one of his fingers inside. He crooks it upwards immediately, smiling at the way Johnny moans.
“Yeah, there you go. Just be good for me, superstar.”
Johnny whines and pulls his legs up further, knees at his shoulders. He wants to cry already, Kenshi feels so fucking good but its not enough, it's not anything yet and he just wants Kenshi to get on with it.
A second finger prods at Johnny's rim, and he closes his eyes when Kenshi pushes it inside. His fingers reach deeper, curving just right when they pull out.
It's been a while since he's been fucked, but Kenshi makes sure that Johnny never feels discomfort for too long. He’s deliberate, gentle, attentive, so sweet in every motion, no matter how small it is. He lets Johnny feel. Johnny gets on Kenshi for going “slow,” but God, it allows him to feel everything.
Kenshi thrusts in with a bit more force, and Johnny pulls harder on his own thigh. Kenshi can feel the movement, and his clean hand slides up to meet Johnny’s fingers. “Jesus, Cage. You're so fucking flexible. It's almost scary.”
Johnny gripes, “and your tranquility is horrifying. Fuck me, c’mon.”
“Be patient, Johnny. You’ll get there.” Kenshi’s voice is low and all-consuming. He soothes his hand up and down Johnny’s thigh, giving the actor another smack before pulling out and reaching over in the general direction of the lube. He fumbles a little, but eventually his hand grasps it, and he coats two more fingers in the substance.
Johnny’s not even paying attention at this point, upper body thrown back against the sheets. His hands have fallen from his legs to above his shoulders, framing his head.
“You want four? Or just three today?” Kenshi’s back to rubbing up and down Johnny’s thigh, lube covered fingers teasing over his hole again.
“Just three. Please fuck me. Please, doll, please.”
Johnny's words are starting to slur a little, and his chest is heaving. His skin is flushed deeply, a pretty pink color. His dick bobs up towards his navel pathetically, the skin almost red in frustration. If Kenshi could see he would probably coo at him.
“Calm down, my star, just be patient. You're almost there.”
Johnny makes a tiny huff sound as Kenshi presses three fingers inside of him. The stretch is a bit much, and he takes in a deep breath as Kenshi sits and lets him adjust. He opens his eyes for a second to stare up at the man. His partner is so breathtaking. His lips are positioned in a little pout, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Johnny reaches a hand up to smooth over the crease between his brows, thumb tracing over the edges of a scar. Kenshi makes another “huh” noise and Johnny smiles (he's glad Kenshi can't see his heart eyes).
“It's okay, Ken. You know I can take it. Just fuck me.”
“I should have a dollar for every time you say that,” Kenshi chuckles, and he pulls his fingers out slowly, only the first knuckles remaining before he pushes back inside. He presses them upwards, as deep as they can go, rubbing over the soft nub of Johnny's prostate. Johnny sobs, has to close his eyes again.
“Ken, God I-” Kenshi cuts Johnny off with another slap, this time to his thigh. “Johnny. Be good, come on, I know you can.”
“I can't, Ken-doll, I can't please, please, oh God,” Johnny's voice trails off in little pleases as Kenshi continues to open him up meticulously. Johnny’s starting to buck his hips more frequently, and Kenshi moves his hand from his partner's thigh to his stomach, just above his dick. Kenshi spreads his fingers, the tips positioned around Johnny’s prostate, bringing them together slowly as he pulls them out.
Johnny whines as Kenshi's fingers leave him entirely, and his eyelashes flutter open again. They're nearly stuck together with unshed tears, and he feels a bit embarrassed.
“What is it Ken?”
“Hand me a condom?”
Johnny almost cries with joy. He reaches his hand back towards the nightstand, too out of it to even look for where the little package is. He does find the condom eventually, almost dropping it on the floor, but Kenshi is nothing if not patient. The man is humming again while he rubs Johnny’s stomach, tracing the indents of his abs.
Colorful tattoos look beautiful against Johnny's skin. Green, red, and blue, dark against the light flush of his stomach. Johnny really wants to bite Kenshi everywhere. He busies his teeth with ripping open the condom instead, sitting up before placing the opened packet beside him.
“I'll put it on for you, but you gotta get your pants off, Ken-doll.”
Kenshi has the gall to sound confused. He's such an interesting man. “Oh, yeah, forgot,” he says again, and Johnny chortles. “You're such an idiot sometimes,” Johnny mumbles as Kenshi steps back to undo his pants. He pulls them off with his boxers, whining a little at the cold air on his skin. He places his clothes in the pile on the floor, of course, before crawling onto the bed. Knees bracketing Johnny’s thighs, he takes his dick in his lubed hand, holding himself up so Johnny can slip the condom on.
Johnny has to take a minute to stare at him. Since Kenshi’s tattoos continue down his back, he can see where they end just above his hips from here. His skin is a lighter color below his waistline, but his dick is a pretty dark brown, so hard that Johnny’s surprised he's not more frustrated or eager right now.
“I know you're staring, didn't you wanna get fucked? Come on, put the condom on,” and there it is, the beginning of Kenshi's composure cracking away. Johnny knows soon he'll begin bursting at the seams.
“Be patient, Ken-doll, I’m just admiring the view.”
Kenshi uses his free hand to lightly swat at Johnny’s stomach, grumbling something he can’t make out. His arms are shaking, and his dick twitches towards the heat of Johnny’s body.
Johnny reaches around himself to finally pick the condom up off the bed, leaning forward once the packaging is gone. He moves Kenshi’s hand off his dick, and his partner keeps his hand aside awkwardly as his erection twitches again.
With the condom finally fit over Kenshi’s length, Johnny gets to actually touch him. He grips at the base of Kenshi’s dick, sliding his hand up slowly as he begins to kiss the man's chest. Starting above his collarbones, where his tattoos begin to cut off, he bites down gently on Kenshi’s skin. Kenshi grunts, a sound deep in his throat, trying to push Johnny off and up on the bed.
“Johnny, my skin is sensitive, stop,” he whines a little dumbly. Johnny pulls off once he reaches Kenshi’s nipple, biting it a bit harshly. “You're such an ass, Cage.” He’s finally able to push Johnny’s torso back on the bed once his mouth leaves skin, but the hand on his dick doesn't let up.
All Kenshi can do is make small, whiny sounds until Johnny’s satisfied. “Are you done,” Kenshi grumbles, and he sounds winded. Johnny drops his hands back on the bed, giggling at Kenshi’s reactions.
“Just wanted you worked up too, Ken-doll. Get on with it now.”
“So annoying,” Kenshi whispers. He reaches over to grab the lube again, finding it easily this time, squirting just a little more on his fingers to coat his dick. He throws the bottle aside, now using both of his hands to push Johnny’s legs up again. “Hold them there. Be good now.”
Johnny hums, biting at the inside of his cheek when Kenshi’s hands move lower on his thighs, just inches away from his dick. One hand moves, Kenshi gripping his own erection now, positioning himself just at Johnny’s hole. He's still a menace though. Kenshi presses forward, just catching on his rim, before slipping upwards, almost rutting up against his balls. Johnny wants to scream at him.
“Ken, please, come on, please. I've been so patient. I want you so bad, Ken, please, please.”
Tears start to well up near the corners of Johnny’s eyes again. Kenshi coos, using the hand not on his own erection to run a thumb over the slit of Johnny’s dick.
“You have been patient, superstar, you're so good. You ready for me?”
Kenshi laughs when Johnny smacks his arm.
“Yes. Come on. You're not funny. Why do you hate me?”
“I don't hate you, my star. Not anymore, at least.”
Johnny opens his mouth in rebuttal, but he shuts it quickly when Kenshi presses the tip of his dick against Johnny’s rim again, finally, finally pushing inside.
Kenshi’s face is scrunched up and his hands grip Johnny’s thighs as he sheaths himself fully, oh so slowly. Johnny can feel himself stretch around every inch. He sucks in a breath, squeezing his eyes shut, and he reaches a hand up to grab one of Kenshi's pecs. Kenshi huffs, and he sounds almost pained.
“Seriously?” Kenshi's voice is throaty and deep, and Johnny can tell he's trying so hard not to lose himself right now.
“Let me, God, you're fuckin’ thick, and your tits are like stress balls.”
“Please don't call them tits.”
“They're huge though, Ken-doll.”
Kenshi smacks Johnny’s thigh again, not the same one as before, of course. “Tell me when you're ready, superstar,” he grunts when his hand has returned to gripping Johnny’s thigh.
“Been ready forever. Come on.”
There's an unintelligible grumble from Kenshi, and he pulls out, slowly, to just his tip, before swiftly slamming back inside. Johnny nearly wails as Kenshi begins to fuck him, unshed tears making their way down his cheeks.
Johnny’s hand falls back onto the bed. He grips the sheets between his fingers again, watching Kenshi’s face through his tears. The man seems to start to relax, his lips falling open, eyebrows almost curved upwards.
Slow on the pull back, and quick but deep when he thrusts back inside, Kenshi establishes a steady pace. Nothing but the sounds of their incoherent enjoyment fills the room for the next few minutes.
As much as he hates to let himself go, Kenshi is loud. His deep groans turn into little whines on each thrust, his entire body shaking with exertion and pleasure. His head hangs low, fingers gripping at Johnny’s legs like a lifeline, and sweat drips from his neck onto Johnny’s chest. It makes him feel insane.
Johnny is loud in a different way. He babbles sweet nothings into the air, little praises that Kenshi finds so, so adorable. It's barely passable for speech, but what can be made out is usually “please,” “so good,” or simply Kenshi’s name.
They continue like this for a while. Content in just feeling each other’s bodies. Johnny’s babbling has become more sobbing, tears streaming steadily down his cheeks, and Kenshi's pace has started to quicken.
When Johnny’s legs start to shake he reaches up, grasping Kenshi’s shoulder, fingernails bound to leave indents there.
“Ken, Ken-doll, I’m close, please, please.”
Johnny's voice is soft and almost a whisper, Kenshi just grunts at him, seemingly incapable of coherent speech. One of Kenshi’s hands moves from Johnny’s thigh to his dick. He rubs his palm over the head in a circular motion, letting the precum coat his hand. Using the extra wetness on his hand he begins to stroke Johnny in time with his thrusts.
“Feel good superstar? You gonna come?”
Johnny just growls, uses the hand on Kenshi’s shoulder to pull him down. The hand not on Johnny’s erection falls onto the bed, and now their faces hover inches from one another. Kenshi's breath is warm on Johnny's face.
“Kiss me?” Johnny sounds absolutely ruined. His hand moves from Kenshi’s shoulder to his nape. The hair there is drenched in sweat, and Johnny’s fingers slip.
Their kiss is open mouthed from the beginning. Kenshi can't seem to stop making noises, and Johnny’s tears are salty on their tongues.
Soon it stops being a kiss all together, their lips just brushing as they moan into each other's mouths.
When Kenshi's fingers brush the head of Johnny’s dick again, he gasps against Kenshi's mouth, coming all over his hand. Johnny’s body is convulsing, legs dropping so that his feet are on the bed, and he scratches at Kenshi's neck while he rides it out.
The orgasm lasts for a while, and not only is Kenshi's hand covered in come, but Johnny’s stomach is too. Kenshi slows his hips, his clean hand placed on Johnny’s face, thumb soothing over his cheekbone. Their noses are still pressed against one another.
“You want me to pull out?” Kenshi's voice is strained, and his abdomen is quivering with the effort of holding himself back.
“No, keep going. Want you to come. Feels good.”
Kenshi starts up sluggishly, but very quickly his will power breaks down, and his thrusts become erratic. He keeps placing small kisses against Johnny’s lips in between moans, and Johnny would open his eyes to admire him some more if he wasn't absolutely exhausted.
“Ken, you're so adorable.” Johnny pets the back of his head, trying to straighten out the crooked kisses Kenshi keeps giving him.
As he comes, Kenshi stills entirely, and Johnny can feel his dick pulsing as he empties into the condom. His groan rumbles through his chest, a bass that seems to vibrate Johnny’s heart. Kenshi is so beautiful, as Johnny opens his eyes for just a bit, watching contentment bloom across his features. Once Kenshi’s finished he collapses, head falling into the crook of Johnny’s neck.
Taking a minute to decompress, they wrap their arms around one another for a while. Kenshi places chaste kisses against Johnny’s neck, whispering praises against his skin.
“You gonna stay in me forever, Ken-doll?”
Kenshi bites down on Johnny's neck before starting to pull out. Johnny slaps the back of his head for good measure.
They tease each other sleepily as they clean up, having moved almost immediately, since Johnny hates sitting in his come for too long. They fall into things like this easily though, the best friend roles immediately switching back on once they come down.
It's still a minimization to call them best friends. Johnny thinks they've definitely crossed that path a long, long time ago. He doesn't really care.
When he falls asleep with Kenshi in his bed, Johnny thinks they're just fine being whatever they are now. As long as he gets to have him.