Friendly Friday thought
dinner with Sakusa weekly as a lil gossip time/catch up at his place
"and-and she didnt even have the authorization to do it...! thats what-ngh-that's-fuck-what kills me."
"mhm"
"she's s-so condescending."
"mhm. and then?"
you shiver, head dropping back on his shoulder as you struggle to find your breath.
your weekly get-togethers with omi have taken a turn recently. they used to be wine and takeout, old shitty movies and complaining about work. you used to sit at opposite ends of the couch, sometimes leaning on each other once enough alcohol was flowing between you.
you used to go home at the end of the night.
youre not sure when it started. yes you do, it was two weeks ago.
youre not sure if it was you or him that initiated. it was him.
all you know is that one day, you started sitting in between his legs on the couch instead of across from him. one day, you started leaning your back against his chest and letting him pull you by the hips until you were flush against him like that, too. one day, he slipped his hands under your shirt and started kneading at your breasts, fingers tweaking at your nipples as he laid his chin on your shoulder, your unsteady breaths and rolling hips more than enough to get him riled up. enough for him to want to slip a hand under the band of your skirt.
one day, kiyoomi just decided that this is your place now, locked in place by his arms and kept there by his strength any time you wriggle too hard. he just decided that friday nights were to be spent with one hand kneading your tits and two fingers buried tight in your cunt.
he likes this much better. listening to your stories about work and getting to use his hands for something better than just fucking his fist when you leave at the end of the night, your name trapped in his throat?
yeah. he likes this much better.