#but i do not see where these yanks (affectionate) get off mocking a number based name when junior year isnt even the first one | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

face-turn · 7 years

Text

Love Love Love

Pairing: Kenny/Kota (golden lovers) Words: 1.8k Rating: M Warnings: Spanking, a tiny little bit of self-hatred on Kenny’s part A/N: There’s no porn in this. Maybe after I write dad AU? Listen, porn is hard. Tags (let me kno if you ever want to be tagged): @breadclubrising

The room was quiet. Kenny’s head was… quiet. The light pressure of the blindfold on his eyelids made everything feel like more in a way the drowned out everything else in his head. Even the air-conditioning felt shivery-good down his spine. Shifting his head ever-so-slightly against the pillow made the knot tug at Kenny’s hair, sending a zingy tingle of pain that made his fingertips twitch. He did it again, bottom lip caught between his teeth, and then shifted his entire body against the soft rope around his wrists leashing him to the headboard.

Soft footsteps stopped in the doorway, and Kenny vividly heard the faint, stuttered breath that Kota let out. It made him grin into the pillows and wiggle a little bit to see if he could make Kota laugh. He did, like he always did, and it made Kenny smile wider. He curled his fingers in a little hi, which made Kota laugh again. Kenny loved making Kota laugh. Even when they weren’t doing this, it made his insides warm and gooey knowing that he’d helped Kota’s mood in some way. And when they were doing this? There was no better feeling in the world than knowing he’d done something good.

Kota’s footsteps were light on their plush carpet-- the man moved like a cat, and if Kenny hadn’t been straining with the entirety of himself towards Kota like a lodestone, he probably wouldn’t have heard him at all. But he was, so he did, which meant that he wasn’t surprised when Kota’s hand laid itself on his hip like a brand. Kenny curled into it like a cat, earning himself an affectionate slap to his hipbone for his trouble.

“If you wiggle around so much, you’re going to cut off your circulation,” Kota told him, pinching Kenny’s fingertips scoldingly. “If your fingers fall off, you’ll have only yourself to blame.” That made Kenny laugh, curling his fingers and tugging again just to prove that he could. Kota tsked and tugged Kenny’s hair hard enough to force a little squeak out of him. His back arched, uselessly attempting to escape the pressure.

“Are you trying to be bad?” Kota asked, sounding nothing but mildly curious. Kenny’s eyelids flickered behind the blindfold. Kota tugged harder at his hair, dragging another rough noise out. “You’ll need to use your words. Everyone knows how good you are with those.” Somehow, he managed to save it from sounding bitter and mocking, but it still made Kenny’s stomach drop.

“I’m always good,” Kenny replied, then immediately yelped when Kota yanked his hair like he was trying to pull it out by the roots. Kota never let him get away with that shit. “-- Ow, ow-- No, I’ll be good, please--” Kenny let his head hit the pillow when Kota let him go, stealing little sips of air and already feeling shivery through his shoulders and down the length of his back.

Kota stroked his hair, sending confused pleasurepainfear signals through Kenny. It was so hard to stay still. He curled his toes into the blankets, squirming uncomfortably around the guilty feeling in his belly.

“No,” Kenny said, voice coming slow and syrupy the way it always did when he got deep enough in his head. “No, I want to be good. I just--” “You just need help,” Kota finished the thought for him, standing up and moving across the room. Kenny anxiously tried to track him through sound alone, head swiveling this way and that to catch the sound of soft footsteps.

“Don’t leave,” He blurted, then cringed. He felt naked this way, uncomfortably exposed when he couldn’t even see Kota’s pitying eyes on him. “Don’t-- you know I’d do anything.” Hadn’t he made it clear? Silence. Then Kota was back, settled on the bed in a moment and pressed all along Kenny’s side. Kenny went limp as a noodle, all the tension in him dripping out into a puddle on the floor. A big hand stroked down his bare spine, chasing away icy fear that had momentarily gripped him.

“I know,” Kota said tenderly, rubbing a thumb into the tender place underneath the wing of Kenny’s shoulder blade. “The point is you don’t have to do anything. I’m helping you right now, right? I’m not going to leave. Anything you can’t do, I’ll do for you.”

It should make Kenny rankle, that Kota was suggesting that he couldn’t do something on his own-- but instead it just made him feel safe, settled deeper into his own skin. Kenny had always been better with Kota than without him.

“Yeah,” Kenny said finally, pressing his mouth to the inside of his bicep. “Yeah, okay.”

“Are you okay? Do you want the blindfold off?” That was Kota to a T. Always so considerate. It always hammered home the thought that everything that happened between them was always Kenny’s fault. He shook his head slowly.

“I can do it,” He murmured. No running away. “I’m good.” “You’re good,” Kota agreed. Just hearing it made Kenny want to preen, a few words sparking a competitive sort of pride in his chest. “You’re always good, and you’re especially good for me.

“But I’m still going to have to punish you.”

Kenny made a faint grumbly noise of complaint, but nodded as if he’d been asked a question-- he’d earned it, in his way. When Kota’s hand hooked under his hip to pull him up onto all fours, he went willingly, stabilizing himself on his knees with his arms stretched out to brace against the headboard. The position forced his back into a long curve that would have felt embarrassing if he’d been with anybody with Kota.

“Are your knees okay?” Kota asked, stroking a hand over Kenny’s ass with an easy sense of possession.

Kenny pondered this for a moment, considering the just-slightly uncomfortable pinch in his hips and the beginning ache in his knees. “Yes, Kota.”

“Tell me if that changes.”

Before Kenny could even nod an agreement, Kota slapped his ass hard enough to make him rock forward and hiss between his teeth. The next few strikes weren’t nearly as hard as Kota could manage, but they still stung plenty. Kenny could feel his ass going pink.

“You’re taking it so well for me,” Kota murmured, bending over Kenny’s back, “you look so pretty like this.” Kenny shivered, curling his fingers against the headboard restlessly.

Kota didn’t make him count the strikes-- he knew as well as Kenny did that trying to keep track of the numbers like that only put him back in his head, made him think too deeply about things other than the sensation. The hot pain was enough, in any case. Before long, Kenny’s head drooped down between his shoulders, flinching at every crack of Kota’s hand against his ass and curling away from the hand with whiney little noises.

Here, he didn’t have to hide when it hurt.

By the time Kota stopped, Kenny’s eyes were wet behind the blindfold and his breath was coming in helpless gulps, but he felt… good. Cleaner, somehow. Kota brushed the palm of his hand over Kenny’s red ass, making him startle and moan an indignant little noise.

“What do you say when someone helps you?” Kota said. His voice was warm enough that he didn’t sound patronizing. “Thank you, Kota,” Kenny mumbled shakily, going easy when Kota pressed a palm to the small of his back and urged him to his belly, even though it made his hips ache and threaten to cramp. Kota dragged fingers through Kenny’s hair, untangling the strands caught in the blindfold and rubbing tenderly at his hairline. If Kenny could purr, he would have-- as it was, he gave a full-body shiver and stretched out in a way that made his shoulders twinge but otherwise felt fantastic.

“You know you’re beautiful?” Kota asked like he couldn’t hold it back, fingers pressing into a sore spot where Kenny’s thigh met his hip. It was the painful kind of good that left tingling pleasure in its wake. “I’m going to take off the blindfold. Open slowly.”

Kenny kept his eyes closed obediently, eyelashes fluttering when Kota unknotted the blindfold and let it slide down Kenny’s nose. It was brighter in the room than he’d anticipated-- he’d been in the dark so long that it felt like midnight, but even with his eyes just slitted open he could see the buttery afternoon sunlight coming in through the curtains.

When Kota settled onto the bed, Kenny turned towards him like a flower turning to face the sun. He hadn’t even noticed him leaving-- time was moving so slowly, pulling and stretching like taffy. In between seconds, Kota managed to unpick the knots holding Kenny to the headboard. The soft rope left faint pressure marks, but no friction burns-- Kota carefully examined his hands anyway, bending each of Kenny’s fingers and eventually pressing a kiss to his palm. Kenny curled his fingers around it.

“Are you still out of it?” Kenny blinked slowly at Kota’s question. Kota laughed, smoothing fingertips over the confused line of one of Kenny’s eyebrows. Kenny smiled dazedly back and lifted a hand to touch Kota’s mouth. At that moment, touching Kota felt paramount. “--Ah, so you are.”

Kenny came back to himself in degrees, still feeling blurry around the edges in a pleasant, sleepy sort of way. He inched over to shove his face into Kota’s hipbone while he could still get away with it. Kota patted him absently, which made Kenny loop an arm around his waist to demand his attention.

“Are you-- are you on your phone?” Kenny tried to sound outraged, but failed miserably based purely on his voice cracking.

“No,” Kota said, shoving his phone underneath a pillow so he could offer Kenny a bottle of water. “I’ve never even seen a phone.”

Kenny made a disgusted noise around his water bottle, slapping Kota’s thigh. In brutal retaliatory form, Kota leaned to slap Kenny’s ass again, which made him yelp and nearly spill his water. Kenny loved him so much.

Once Kenny finished his water, Kota fussily tucked him into the sheets and bunked down beside him even though it couldn’t be later than four in the afternoon.

“Take a nap,” Kota suggested in his it’s-not-an-order-but-do-it voice. “I’ll have dinner done when you get up.”

“Make vegetables.” Kenny replied, shoving his head underneath a pillow to keep from laughing at Kota’s disgruntled face. Telling Kota to do something was the best way to ensure he wouldn’t want to do it, thus putting him at war between his desire to eat relatively clean and his equal and opposite desire to never do anything requested of him unless it was phrased as a dare.

“I’m going to make them, but not because you told me to.” Kota said, sounding disgusted. He closed the door on Kenny trying to stifle a yelp of laughter.

#Golden lovers #kenny omega #ibushi kota #njpw #njpw fic #my writing

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