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“Issei…” Takahiro whimpered as his boyfriend spread his legs apart. His muscles strained under his skin, the stretch tight and deliciously painful. He rubbed his inner thighs seductively and bit his lip to muffle another whimper.
Issei rubbed along his boyfriend’s sides and stomach. Takahiro was still muscular from years of volleyball and regular visits to the gym, and his rippling skin glowed with a sheen of sweat. Grabbing him by the underside of his knees, Issei increased his pace, letting his balls bounce against Takahiro’s pert little ass as he lifted him higher.
“Oh…” Takahiro whined like a porn star, wriggling. “Right there,” he said when Issei shifted slightly and began thrusting against his prostate. He started pumping himself roughly, precum spilling onto his stomach. “Don't stop.”
“My legs are falling asleep,” Issei said suddenly, abruptly pulling out. Takahiro, disoriented, watched as his boyfriend pulled his legs out from underneath him and ungracefully fell backwards onto the bed. “Ride me instead. I'm tired, I’ve been doing all the work.”
“No stamina,” Takahiro mumbled, but still swung one leg over Issei’s hips and settled over him. “Can’t even do something nice for your boyfriend on Valentine's Day.” He leaned forward and kissed him softly as he held Issei’s length, trying to align them.
“Damn right,” Issei whispered against his mouth when they parted. Takahiro reconnected them at last and began moving slowly, pressing his hands against Issei’s chest in order to push himself up.
“Make it up to me for White Day,” Takahiro demanded.
“I—” Issei groaned suddenly when Takahiro clenched around him, gripping his boyfriend’s hips and pressing the back of his head hard into the mattress. “I will,” he managed.
It took Takahiro a few tries to find his prostate again. He scratched Issei’s chest, grinding down on him hard in an effort to get back to the high he’d had before Issei ruined it. “Jerk me off a little, would you?” he said through clenched teeth, concentrating.
Issei did as he was told, bringing his hand to the base of Takahiro’s cock. He fondled his balls, squeezing them just to the point of being painful and then letting up, then moving to fully stroke his erect member.
“I’m so close,” Issei said. He let go of Takahiro’s cock and pushed himself up, wrapping his arms around him and letting him bounce quickly in his lap. Takahiro wrapped his legs around Issei’s waist, feeling his hole stretch and accommodate the new position.
“Oh, Issei,” Takahiro moaned loudly. He heard the blood not in his cock rush to his ears when Issei began pounding in time with his bounces. Issei mumbled something in his shoulder, but he was too overcome with pleasure to hear it.
“What?”
“Harambe,” Issei grunted. “Call me Harambe.”
Takahiro was cumming before he could register what had been said. He gripped Issei’s hair and pulled his head back, staring into his boyfriend’s stupid beautiful half-opened eyes as they thrust together. He felt Issei’s cum warm and wet inside of him, and for a second he was so aroused he was considering a second round. Then the words sank in.
“You asshole,” Takahiro said, getting up from Issei’s lap so quickly that the withdrawal of his dick hurt. Despite the explosive orgasm and his lack of energy, he began to laugh, shoving Issei away from him.
“You totally came right when I said that.”
“I did not!” Takahiro defended. “I didn't even hear you.”
“You did.”
“Did not.”
“Don't call my name, don't call my name,” Issei sang.
“Don’t.”
“Harambe.”
“I hate you so fucking much,” Takahiro said, using the last of his remaining strength to push Issei off the bed.
Issei’s laughter was even louder from the floor.