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[ When Shuichi pushes his bangs away, Ouma's eyes flick up to meet Shuichi's, which he almost immediately regrets -- sudden embarrassment surges through him at noticing Shuichi looking at him so attentively and his face somehow feels even hotter. But there's also a part of him that's kind of enjoying it too, capturing all of Shuichi's focus like this...

His eyes dart down again when Shuichi lets go of him, and he's about to pick back up on what he was doing when Shuichi starts messing with shirt and asks his question.

...As worked up as he is, Ouma still manages to grin at that, scoffing a breathy laugh. ]

Touch me...? Well, you shouldn't...keep me waiting...

[ Ouma idly rubs his thumb over the head of Shuichi's dick, maybe to give him incentive for it. ]

[The eye contact is, at least, mutually embarassing. It seems to break whatever spell had had Shuichi so fixated, and his face burns as he drops his gaze. His mouth opens like he might respond, but Ouma's thumb rubbing at him just draws a low whine out of him. What was he even gonna say? Fuck if he can remember now.

There's a beat of hesitation, and he leans up to press his face back against Ouma's shoulder. He doesn't think he can do this without hiding his face, and he kinda...well. Really wants to do this. It's only fair, right?

It's anything but smooth as he fumbles one-handed, not really able to see what he's doing and half sure he'd lose his nerve if he could. Is Ouma really wearing a belt...? Of course he is, why would any step of this be easy? His fine motor skills are definitely suffering from the distraction of Ouma's hand still on him, his hips twitching and hand stalling every time he needs to gasp for a breath, trying very hard not to jar Ouma's arm too much now that they're working in the same shared space because that definitely isn't helping matters.

But he does eventually manage to get Ouma's pants open and worm his fingers beneath the waistband of what feels like boxer briefs. At least Ouma is undeniably hard. That's a bit of a confidence boost.

This shouldn't feel weird. It's not as if he's never touched a dick before. Just...never one that wasn't his own. So the angle he's working at here feels kind of odd even ignoring the fact that he's fumbling blindly and bumping arms with Ouma. His touch is too light as he gives it a few tentative strokes, like he's afraid of being too rough when he can't feel it directly to understand what he's doing -- which is dumb, because Ouma's definitely proven so far that he likes things at least a little rough, but still.]

[ While Shuichi is slowly fumbling around, Ouma begins distracting himself by turning his head slightly so that he can start pressing his mouth against the near-back of Shuichi's neck a few times. Mostly because it's what he can get to with Shuichi's face in his shoulder again, and because he just wants to do something so he's not thinking too much about the fact that Shuichi is presently working on getting in his pants. That just makes his heartrate jump considerably.

Breathing warm in between his kissing, Ouma starts moving his hand again, stroking Shuichi again albeit at a more inconsistent and slower pace than before. He doesn't seem to care about bumping arms with Shuichi much, because even if he might say differently, he's not that picky about how much finesse Shuichi has so much as he's just excited over the fact that it's Shuichi and he's getting something from him he never thought he'd get in the first place.

So it's pretty distracting feeling Shuichi's hand on his dick anyway, if only because having the sensation of someone else's hand on him is utterly foreign. He sucks in a quiet breath, immediately feeling like grinding more into Shuichi's hand or something.

...Fuck it, that's what he's doing -- biting down on his own lip as he stops kissing Shuichi's skin for now and shifts his hips toward him a bit. ]

[Shuichi shivers under those soft kisses and the faint breath on the back of his neck. He had a vague thought for a hot second of trying to return to what he'd been doing earlier, kissing and teething at Ouma's neck, but he quickly gave up on that idea. He's barely managing with what's going on right now, like hell could he handle that much multitasking at the moment. So he stays where he is, forehead pressed to the warm skin at the base of Ouma's neck and ragged breath ghosting over the spots he'd been nipping at on the other boy's collarbone.

He wouldn't have imagined he was doing at all decently, as awkward as he feels fumbling through his first handjob in both directions. But Ouma grinding down against his hand suggests otherwise. It's not really helping with the finesse issues, crushing his hand between their groins and making his wrist jar against Ouma's hand and his own dick with every stroke. Shuichi groans, unable to resist rolling his hips up into the additional friction.

Either his arm is getting tired supporting his weight like this or he's just shaking from the overall...well, "activity". But his elbow slips out from under him, hand taking Ouma's with it as it shifts abruptly, and he drops back down flat against the mattess with a gasp of breath.]

[ Ouma enjoys the friction, moaning against Shuichi's neck between what he gets from grinding against Shuichi's hand as well as the additional pressure that Shuichi moving his own hips brings. He's hopelessly horny right now, and he wants more. Although Shuichi's hand can only do so much, and it's getting cumbersome to try and keep his own stroking up when they're so close to each other and grinding against each other like this.

When Shuichi falls back fully, Ouma makes a decision as he stops touching Shuichi for the moment, taking his hand from Shuichi's pants and placing it on Shuichi's lower abdomen as he pushes himself up on his knees slightly. He's sort of frustrating himself in the process, because all he wants to do is keep grinding on Shuichi, but this might make things better. At least he can see Shuichi's face again for a minute, too. ]

Hey, let me...

[ He manages a prompt in the middle of his panting, moving his hand down to nudge Shuichi's away from touching him. ]

[It's a bad moment to actually see his face -- or maybe a good one, depending on how you're thinking about it. Ouma suddenly pulls away from him, even pushing Shuichi's hand off, and for a moment Shuichi looks a bit panicked under all the flushing and heavy breathing.]

What did I...?

[Clearly he has done something wrong, so wrong that Ouma doesn't even want to be touched by him anymore let alone want to continue getting him off. Oh god. How did he fuck up a handjob this badly.]

[ oh my god

Ouma can't help snickering in a breathy way at the look on Shuichi's face, looking a little amused in spite of how worked up he is. He doesn't even bother assuring Shuichi immediately, instead utilizing his free hand to tug Shuichi's waistband down a little more -- enough that Shuichi's exposed anyway. Ouma licks his own lower lip, taking a second to bother stroking Shuichi a few times like this too, realizing this is the first time he's actually gotten to see it. He'd probably make a poor and ill-timed joke if he weren't already so compromised right now.

But since he is, he doesn't waste much time before taking his hand away just briefly enough to tug his own pants down off his hips. He returns to stroking Shuichi immediately after that, dropping his body in closer to Shuichi's again until he's close enough that he can just hold Shuichi's dick in place while he grinds himself down against Shuichi.

He moans contently in his throat as he does it, keeping his eyes on Shuichi as he tilts his head with lingering amusement on his face. ]

You're such...a dummy...

[ oh

Well, the good thing about having his hand freed up is that he can toss his arm up over his face, pressing the crook of his elbow to his eyes as he draws a hissing breath. He's too on-display like this, Ouma's stare feeling every bit as tangible as his hand, and Shuichi's pretty sure he's going to actually die at this rate, if not from the embarassment then from the overwhelming friction of Ouma grinding down against him.

He keens with a shudder and practically convulses, back arching a little and then bowing as his hips snap forward. His jaw tightens with the effort to restrain the sounds escaping him. Christ, this was easier not to think about when they were pressed so close he couldn't really take in the whole scene. Like this, it feels like every little spasm and breahy moan is the focus of attention and god, he could really die.]

[ The sounds Shuichi's making and the way his body is responding is all too encouraging for Ouma, even if Shuichi's hiding his face again...not that it's unexpected by this point. Ouma sighs as he moans, thinking that this definitely feels way better between the additional heat and friction involved. It's more convenient too, he finds, eventually letting go of his hold on Shuichi's dick as he figures out the best way to grind his hips effectively here.

He'll take advantage of the sudden free hand, moving it up to grasp at Shuichi's arm so that he can gently try to pull it away from Shuichi's face -- it's getting in his way, and as if to demonstrate this, Ouma tilts his head to tentatively press a few inelegant kisses along Shuichi's jawline, like he's looking to make out with Shuichi properly again.

...Or as properly as he can get when they're both so wound up, anyway. ]

[He half expects Ouma to tease him, because this is Shuichi and Ouma is Ouma and it's a pretty disastrous mix of low self-esteem and mischief between the two of them. But even in forcing his arm away, Ouma's being so gentle that Shuichi even tentatively opens his eyes, peeking up at Ouma with uncertainty from beneath his raised arm. He anticipates laughter or at least more light ribbing, and instead he gets Ouma leaning in to kiss him more.

Oh.

Fuck. There's a surge of affection there, but he doesn't really think there's anything he could say to express that gratitude for not making this entirely difficult. Certainly nothing that wouldn't sound pathetic and a little neurotic, anyway. He settles for bitting his lip to smother a sigh, turning his head to meet Ouma's and for a moment just letting their noses rest side by side. Then he tilts his head to catch Ouma with a proper kiss, soft and careful in contrast to the needy grinding up against Ouma.]

[ As soon as Shuichi's kissing him, Ouma goes ahead and lets go of his arm, instead dropping his hand to grab at the front of Shuichi's jacket tightly while he continues grinding down against Shuichi in turn. He sighs heavily through his nose, thinking it's not an ideal time to be trying to thoroughly kiss Shuichi as he's quickly feeling lightheaded, but that's not going to stop him.

Which means Ouma's not quite as soft or careful, but he's definitely keen, moaning against Shuichi's mouth as his knees only feel weaker and his pace of jerking his hips just gets shakier. He's not sure how much longer he can keep this up, the feeling of Shuichi rubbing against him almost damn well putting him in a daze, but he is at least fairly stubborn. His cuffed hand tightens its grip on Shuichi's as he (badly) tries to ignore the heat coiling in his groin. ]

[Is it pathetic or just extremely sappy that the hottest part of all this is Ouma squeezing his hand tight and clutching at him, kissing him so enthusiastically even while looking and sounding like he's coming completely undone? Probably a bit of both.

Fortunately, Shuichi doesn't even have the presence of mind to dwell in self-deprecation over that thought. He wraps his freed-up arm around Ouma's shoulders, holding the other boy close enough that he can feel every shudder and spasm as a full-body experience. Trapped between their bodies like this, there's more heat and friction and pressure on his dick than he's ever felt before, even haphazard and sloppy as this rutting is quickly becoming. With a sharp gasp and a strangled groan, he pulls away from Ouma's mouth just to curl against his shoulder. He tenses and his legs clench together around Ouma's between them.]

O-Ouma-kun, I can't--

[ aaaaaaa fuck fuck fuck fuck ]

[ It's probably a good thing Shuichi pulls away, because Ouma really needs to catch his breath here, but even that seems like an impossible task right now. Panting heavily and feeling his head practically buzzing by this point, he haphazardly lets go of Shuichi's jacket to fumble his hand down and determinedly stroke Shuichi a few more times.

It's obvious Shuichi's about to get off from this -- the way he sounds and the way he's clenching around him right now -- so Ouma wants to make sure that happens before he ends up doing the same. Maybe he's making a stupid, personal game about it. Either way, he wants to see Shuichi come because of him. That'd be nice.

He laments the lack of a free hand to pull Shuichi's head back down with, but he'll take what he can get here. ]

[He doesn't want to. It feels like giving in, and while he isn't a very competetive person he somehow doesn't want to lose here, by whatever metric "losing" means here. Ouma seems wrecked and he wants to keep that going, this rare experience of Ouma seeming so honest and open...

But it was a losing battle even before Ouma moved to finish him off. The hand working between them to stroke at him is just more stimulation than he can bear and he keens, his arm wrapped around Ouma squeezing tight. It's all he can do to just hold on and press his face to Ouma's shoulder. He comes with a heavy shudder, the heat and pleasure sweeping through him with more intensity than he's ever felt just touching himself. The wordless cry that escapes him is practically a sob muffled against Ouma's skin, overwhelmed and gasping.]

[ Ouma loves that, the feeling of Shuichi grabbing him so tight and coming undone so easily despite the fact that Ouma's just bullshitting his way through this. But Shuichi doesn't have to know that.

Ouma halts in everything he's doing for a moment when Shuichi comes, enjoying how Shuichi tenses and shudders into him -- he bites down on his lower lip while he's listening to Shuichi, the sounds and feeling of Shuichi's face warm against his shoulder going straight to his own dick as he only feels more hopelessly turned on by all this. God.

Ouma idly moves his hand away, noticing how much more slick his fingers have gotten from Shuichi coming and laughing breathily and almost inaudibly about it. At least with his hand free again, he can move it up to grab at the back of Shuichi's head, fingers weaving through the other's hair as he attempts to bring his head back down against the bed. Which he probably shouldn't be doing with the hand he'd just used to get Shuichi off, but he doesn't really care since Shuichi just came on both of them, anyway. This is a problem for later. ]

My turn...

[ He didn't get to see Shuichi's face earlier, but he at least wants to see it now as he's starting to grind himself a little desperately against Shuichi's hip with a shaky breath, adjusting his angle slightly so as not to overstimulate Shuichi or something. Although that might be nice too, but he doesn't have the frame of mind to be that vexatious right now. ]

[Coming down from that spiking peak of a high, he recognizes Ouma's words and maneuvering only distantly, as if through a dense cloud. Shit, yeah. Ouma's still gotta...damn. He can't help but feel vaguely like he's fucked up somehow, like he should have made sure to hold off until Ouma was taken care of

Fortunately for the mood in general, Shuichi's a bit too blissed out at the moment to really dwell too much on that sense of failure or to register the mess on the hand in his hair. He's all too pliable, getting tugged back down onto the matress with little more than a slight wince at the slight sting of his hair getting pulled. Or it might be in response to any little bit of contact he's getting down below. As considerate as Ouma's trying to be -- and Shuichi might even recognize and appreciate it later -- their proximity and Ouma's desperate rutting make it pretty much impossible to completely avoid brushing up against him. Every bit of it stabs through his daze like a needle, just over the edge of what could still be considered pleasurable.

But hey, at least like this, foggy-headed and over-warm and occasionally drawing a slight hissing breath, he's not instinctively moving to cover his face. Fuck, that's the furthest thing from his mind right now, even with the awareness that Ouma is definitely leering down at him right now. He feels too boneless to try.

The best he can manage right now is shifting his hips slightly, trying to angle them to the side a bit so Ouma has an easier rise to grind against without rubbing against his own overstimulated dick too much.]

[ Ouma thinks Shuichi looks really nice like this...even though if he was asked if Shuichi could ever look erotic before all of this, he probably would have laughed at the thought. But it's helping him along here, and it's even better when Shuichi starts shifting his hips a little for him, too.

Ouma bites down on his lower lip with a muffled moan, fingers unconsciously gripping tighter in Shuichi's hair and body feeling shakier as he gets incredibly close, his breathing way too fast to even bother trying to recuperate by this point. ]

Saihara-...

[ He doesn't even manage to get his usual playful nickname out, voice cracking slightly as he tenses up with a whine before coming, nails digging into the back of Shuichi's hand from how hard he's gripping it now. ]

[It's a good show, now that he isn't half-focused on his own arousal. Ouma looks ruined and sounds just as good. The painful grips on his hand and in his hair make for a sharp contrast to his own ebbing pleasure, just enough to keep him from zoning out.

And he definitely doesn't want to be zoning out right now. He can't imagine missing this. For once, he can't even be assed to feel any shame over it, straight up ogling the other boy and basking in the afterglow of some very reckless life choices.

He slides his arm around Ouma's shoulders up so he can grip at the base of his neck, just...keeping him still, or grounding him, or just holding him. Shuichi isn't really sure where his own head is at right now. It's hard to keep track of a thought, and Ouma's face hovering above him is one hell of a distraction.]

Come on...

[Absently, he thinks of how nicely Ouma had reacted to all those little nips and scrapes of teeth before -- and fortunately, he's a little beyond capacity to be embarrassed by that train of thought at the moment. He curls his fingers against the back of Ouma's neck so he can dig his nails in, his eyes never leaving Ouma's face.]

[ It takes Ouma a second to even realize Shuichi is staring at him, mostly because he's still riding out his orgasm with a lot of panting and a jolt here and there. As he's gradually catching his breath back finally, he does notice, although he can't really bring himself to care about it too much right now. Although flushed and spent, he's regaining his thoughts at least -- even though it's super distracting when he feels Shuichi's fingernails digging in skin like that. Ouma moans under his breath in a drawn-out, whiny way while closing one of his eyes in reaction to it. God. ]

Meanie...

[ Ouma mutters quietly, but not without a hint of amusement as he tightens his grip in Shuichi's hair to keep him in place -- although in a much more lenient way than how he'd been pulling on it earlier. He tries bringing his own face in even closer, nose even bumping against Shuichi's like he's a mere second from kissing him again...

--But he abruptly pulls his mouth out of reach, resting his forehead against Shuichi's instead with a half-grin as he regards him. ]

...Ah, did you like that? You did, huh?

[ His voice is lower than before, mostly because he is pretty enervated, but the tease is still evident in his tone. ]

[The faint sting in his scalp barely even registers as anything beyond simple punctuation of Ouma's whining. Shuichi huffs something like a laugh, but it's a bit lost in his own heavy breathing as he tries to pull himself back together.

More kissing is probably not conducive to that effort, but he's down anyway. So maybe it's for the best that Ouma fakes him out. He's caught mid attempt to reciprocate, and a bemused expression crosses his face right before a faint, frustrated frown.

Of course Ouma would tease him. But it doesn't feel very biting at all. Shuichi can't tell if it was gentler than normal or if he's just too inclined to nicer interpretations right now. Ouma's voice, so low compared to his usual volume and energy, feels incredibly private. Intimate. Which...he supposes isn't strange given they'd just been getting pretty damn intimate indeed, but it still feels special. Shuichi sighs softly, just a slightly heavier breath in his slowly easing panting.]

Yeah.

[The honesty comes easily, even if his brain seems to be catching up enough for a bit of belated embarassment in just saying so. He'd probably blush, but he's still so red from their "activites" that it's hard to really tell the difference.]

Nee-heehee...

[ He snickers quietly, the heaving in his chest that coincides with his breathing gradually softening as nearly everything seems to calm down. Except his heartbeat -- that's still skipping around aimlessly.

Maybe it's because he's in a good mood. ]

Oops. Guess I took more than your first kiss, huh?

[ "Oops" is kind of putting it lightly, but y'know, of course he's going to try and make light of it. Even if he's supremely pleased he was able to go this far with Shuichi. He didn't plan on it...initially thinking he could just play around with Shuichi a bit, but the game turned out to be more than either of them likely bargained for.

It's probably a little self-serving, but he thinks he'd like it if Shuichi were unable to forget him after something like this. It's a thought that excites him a little.

He lets go of Shuichi's hair, moving his hand away and sitting up slightly. ]

I'll give you something back now for being such a good sport!

[ It takes Ouma a second to find whatever he's looking for, mostly because he's digging in the hem of his own sleeve.

What he reveals turns out to be a thin lockpick of sorts, since he subsequently lifts his handcuffed wrist and uses the item to start fiddling with the cuff's closure. ]

[Putting it very lightly.]

"Oops".

[The repitition is dry and disbelieving. He stares up at Ouma for a lonng moment, mouth pressed into a thin line, before he sighs a heavy breath through his nose and closes his eyes.

It's not that he expected something sappy, or anything like that. Not from the Ultimate Surpreme Leader. But Ouma's typical flippancy stings a little. His first kiss and first more-than-a-kiss all at once, so abruptly and without any of the standard build-up. It's just...a lot. It's not not a big deal. It's definitely not the sort of thing he ever thought anyone would be calling him a "good sport" over. That implies putting up with something, or whatever.

Biting his lip, he turns his head to the side so he can idly watch Ouma pick the handcuff lock.]

You can't really give me my own hand back as a reward.

[It's a much cooler response than he thought he could manage. He can ignore the slowly building embarassment and vague sense of shame by at least clinging to that exasperation. It's not what he wants to be feeling right now, but the alternative seems so much worse. He doesn't even want to think of falling apart into a blushing mess right now so Ouma can laugh at him for being too serious about all this. It's just a game, after all.]

[ Handcuffs are simple enough, especially ones designed for playing around with... So it's not long at all before the cuff clicks open, dropping off of Ouma's raised wrist. ]

Ehhh...?

[ Ouma bites down on the lockpick to briefly hold it in his mouth, idly rubbing his own wrist with his other hand as he looks down at Shuichi and tilts his head at him with interest. Absently, he thinks he'll probably have a few marks of evidence from everything they've been doing, but at least nothing will be visible.

He'll use his (now free) hand to gently take Shuichi's in his own, working on his cuff's lock next. He speaks again as soon as he takes the pick out of his mouth for this. ]

Did you want something else as a reward, Saihara-chan?

[ His tone drops for that as a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. ]

[Shuichi pales a little at that tone. He's not positive what it's suggesting, but it still makes him faintly nervous.]

T-that's not what I meant.

[He's absolutely not blushing. That's just the residual redness from all the recent fun, clearly.

Is all this weird? Are they supposed to just chill a bit here or immediately clean up? Fuck, is this vague desire for like a hug or a kiss or whatever just him being horribly clingy? He has nothing to judge by. He's still...god. Ugh. Trying to be casual about it, he reaches down with his free hand to tuck himself back into his pants and fasten everything back up. He doesn't even know where his belt is. His hand brushes against a splatter of cooling cum and he grimaces.]

...I could use a towel. Or a new shirt.

[Maybe Ouma could get away with it, with all his white clothes, but Shuichi definitely can't.]

[ Ouma makes equally quick work with Shuichi's cuff, dropping the other's hand afterwards. He'll start pulling his own pants back up over his hips, working on his fly as he responds to Shuichi. ]

Lucky for you, there's probably a towel or two somewhere. Y'know, since there's a bathtub...

[ This place is too extra.

Ouma shifts to lean back over Shuichi again though, not letting him sit up yet as he gets in his face again. Both his hands move to grab at Shuichi's blazer. ]

But you seriously don't need a new shirt! Just take this thing off...

[ Ouma's fingers begin to work at unbuttoning it for him, starting at his collar. He's just very helpful, okay. ]

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