So, they might have gotten a little carried away.
But damn Barnaby for being good at playing the suave heartbreaker, tossing his bangs out of his eyes with a leer aimed towards Kotetsu. Something that might considered normal, if it didn’t happen to be on live, national television.
“I can’t think of anyone else I could work with as well as I work with Tiger—we just know each other in every sense, too well, even,” Barnaby tells their host in response to a question Kotetsu, truthfully, wasn’t really paying attention to.
Except he’s not really telling her, because he says this staring directly at Kotetsu, eyes all half-lidded in a way that makes Kotetsu want to squirm in his seat, blush and turn his head away. He settles for looking down to his lap, adjusting the watch on his wrist.
“And you, Tiger?” The host—Kotetsu seriously cannot remember her name—asks, turning to look at him. He lifts his gaze up to her, looks at the camera for a moment, before looking to Barnaby.
“I’d say I know Bunny pretty well,” he says, and watches a smirk slide over Barnaby’s lips. Like he’s really won. That’s cute.
“I definitely know him more intimately than anyone else would,” Kotetsu finishes, and when the audience roars in suggestive oohs and aahs, Kotetsu gives a saucy wink towards them, grinning at the explosive reaction from the crowd, a cacophony of cheers and hollers. Their host blushes at the implication, clears her throat as she smiles at the two of them politely.
Kotetsu slides his glance to Barnaby, smug at the way Barnaby sits there with his jaw hanging slightly agape. He figures he must be speechless, probably didn’t figure Kotetsu had it in him to edge that close into revealing anything publicly like that, and Kotetsu sits back with a muted grin, crossing his legs casually.
“—Thank you for coming tonight, it was my deepest pleasure to speak with both of you this evening,” their host is saying, getting up from her seat and brushing her pencil skirt down politely. Both Kotetsu and Barnaby move to stand as well, and Kotetsu moves in to shake her hand, thanking her in turn.
He steps back to allow Barnaby to do his thing, kissing the woman’s hand with all the grace in the world, and shoots his award-winning smile out to the audience when they (mainly females, by the sound of it) swoon aloud.
“Thank you for having us,” Barnaby says pleasantly, and the woman takes her hand back, a little starry-eyed as she looks to Barnaby.
“I hope you two have a wonderful evening,” she tells them, and Kotetsu nods, expecting that to be that.
When he looks at Barnaby, he’s not turning. He’s looking at the woman, then out to the audience, smiling a smile that Kotetsu is very familiar with, one that comes right before he says stuff like—
“Oh, we will. Tiger and I are in for a long, exciting night,” he tells her, and Kotetsu feels the blood from his toes shoot up to his face. He is seriously sure he’s about to catch fire, or something. He stares at Barnaby, eyes wide, even behind his domino mask, and Barnaby just tosses his hair back again with a whip of his head, smiling as he waves out to the audience and moves to take the lead offstage with Kotetsu in-tow.
“Holy shit,” Kotetsu whispers, thankful when he doesn’t hear it echo from the mic connected to his tie; good luck, right there, the best of luck, actually. “Bunny!”
“Relax,” Barnaby says with a smile, rolling his eyes as he fiddles with the mic attached to his jacket collar. “They probably think it’s a bit. It’s certainly not the first time we’ve littered an interview with innuendos,” he reminds Kotetsu, who is still trying to keep his cheeks from bursting into flame.
After dumping their microphones on the tech guy, standing outside their small dressing room (which is, in every sense of the word, small), Kotetsu and Barnaby gather up what’s theirs and head downstairs, to the ground floor of the studio building. They stop a few times for autographs, because Barnaby’s fans make it impossible for them to take a step forward and because Kotetsu can’t say no to the people that ask him for a signature or a picture as well.
Out in the parking lot, they slow down a little. Barnaby glances to Kotetsu, but his gaze falls straight away, and Kotetsu smiles quietly to himself.
“What are you doing tonight?” They both say, at the exact same time, which is actually kind of weird. Kotetsu laughs awkwardly while Barnaby smiles, pushing up his glasses. They come to a stop in the middle of the lot, because Kotetsu’s car is further down the row.
Because Kotetsu doesn’t speak up, Barnaby gives him an expectant little look, arching his brows. “So…? What are you doing tonight?”
Kotetsu, for once, on the sharp side of the knife, grins as he sweeps forward, pressing Barnaby up against his sleek sports car, turns to breathe the words right up against Barnaby’s warm skin, making his bangs flutter a little from his breath.
“Mm, tonight? You, I was hoping.”
Barnaby laughs at that, but not scornful. Excited, perhaps. Happy.
He turns to look at Kotetsu, smoothing his hand over Kotetsu’s tie. “Then I guess we should get going, hmm? Your pl—“
“Yours,” Kotetsu immediately answers, and Barnaby blinks a bit in surprise, but nods, giving Kotetsu a gentle push.
“I’ll meet you over there, then,” he tells him and Kotetsu smiles. He leans in for a kiss, and Barnaby decides to grant it to him, even sliding his tongue into Kotetsu’s mouth to draw a rumble of a groan from him before pushing Kotetsu back again.
“Don’t make me wait,” Barnaby tells him with a devilish smirk, and Kotetsu licks his lips as he steps back from Barnaby, knowing he won’t be able to resist kissing him more if he keeps this close.
“See you in a few,” Kotetsu agrees, and turns to head out to his own car. He follows Barnaby home, a few cars behind him on the busy streets, just because of his own anxiety about anyone recognizing anything, which is stupid, but hey.
He gets to fuck around with Bunny tonight, so who cares if he’s stupid?
Barnaby gets to his place before Kotetsu does, which is a good thing, because when Kotetsu hurries up to Barnaby’s floor, he barely gets to knock at the door even once before Barnaby’s door flies open and Barnaby’s hands yank him inside, into a kiss so fierce that Kotetsu’s knees nearly fucking buckle in delirious pleasure. His tongue slides forcefully into Kotetsu’s mouth, tasting him rather aggressively, and Kotetsu really likes it, but he doesn’t really like Barnaby shoving him up against the door with most of his strength (read: it hurts and Kotetsu is not willing to outright admit it).
He gives Barnaby a little push, just to get their mouths to part, at least. Barnaby is panting when they part, licking his lips as he blinks at Kotetsu owlishly, curious at the pause.
“Somewhere better?” Kotetsu suggests with a lopsided smile, and Barnaby nods quickly, letting his fists unfurl from holding Kotetsu’s vest, stepping back so Kotetsu’s feet can touch the ground once again, something Kotetsu is very grateful for.
Barnaby does not wait before turning on his heel off to the bedroom, looking over his shoulder to make sure Kotetsu is following—and fuck, why wouldn’t Kotetsu be following him? Especially with the extra sway he puts into his step. Kotetsu suddenly feels the animalistic urge to bite that ass, and he picks up his pace, just to sate himself with giving Barnaby a little pinch on the backside, something that makes him roll his eyes (but he blushes from it, nonetheless!).
Clothes are shed on the way, mostly in Barnaby’s bedroom, though. Barnaby takes his pleasure in yanking open Kotetsu’s belt, flicking open his trousers and shucking everything off, leaving Kotetsu bare save for his socks. Which might be embarrassing, if it weren’t for the fact that Barnaby is practically salivating at the sight of Kotetsu’s body, smoothing his hands over Kotetsu’s broad chest, licking his lips as he traces his fingers over Kotetsu’s incredibly strong upper arms.
Kotetsu takes the chance to get Barnaby’s pants undone, giving a little groan when Barnaby takes over the task himself, shimmying his hips as he slides everything off, kicking it aside as he pulls Kotetsu in for another kiss, raking his long, slender fingers through Kotetsu’s coarse hair, grabbing two handfuls and anchoring Kotetsu’s mouth to his. They kiss until the panting through their noses isn’t enough air, and when they part, Kotetsu gives Barnaby a nudge towards the bed, grinning.
“I wasn’t kidding,” he says, and Barnaby must know what he’s talking about, because he willingly melts back to his bed, wiggling his way up to the pillows in a serpentine motion that allows Kotetsu to watch every muscle of his lithe, strong body move; he wants to lick every single inch of this man, Kotetsu thinks in a heated daze, climbing onto the bed between Barnaby’s impossibly-impressive legs, already splayed wide for him.
Kotetsu’s hands slide up the insides of Barnaby’s thighs, and he nearly shivers at the feeling of such muscle there; a truly lethal pair of weapons, but here, in bed, the only thing Barnaby’s shapely legs make Kotetsu want to do is rut like a fucking animal. It’s kind of weird, because Barnaby’s legs aren’t slender, not like a petite woman, which Kotetsu really likes. But they’re thick with layers of fearful muscle, all natural contours, lines of his body held together. Kotetsu lifts one of Barnaby’s legs via a hand under his calf, and he really does shiver at the feeling of so much muscle flexing under his touch; it doesn’t even give under his fingertips. That’s fucking impressive.
“Bunny,” Kotetsu sighs with great want, leaning in to press his face to Barnaby’s slim stomach, pressing wet kisses there over his navel, up his chest. He feels Barnaby’s hands in his hair again, stroking it back with a certain kind of care that always seems sort of odd. Not because it’s bad, but because Barnaby is so unfamiliar with offering such a delicate touch to someone so dear—he’s tried to explain it before, and it makes sense. Kotetsu smiles against his skin, lips quirked against the flesh of his middle.
“You have no idea how badly I want to fuck you,” Kotetsu whispers—growls, perhaps—into Barnaby’s flesh, and feels a great swell of pride in him (read: in his cock) when he can feel Barnaby’s breath catch, feels him trembling in delight as he grips at Kotetsu’s hair a little.
Kotetsu tilts his head up from Barnaby’s stomach, looking to him for actual permission, not implied, and asks in the same low tone, “Can I?”
Barnaby’s quick nod, a breathless whisper of “Yes, do it,” makes Kotetsu grin, and he slides over Barnaby for a moment, digging out their stash from the bedside table. A condom (which he hands the string of them to Barnaby to tear one off, since he’s balancing himself on one hand while reaching with the other) and lubricant are brought out, and Kotetsu sits back a little as he goes to pour a bit of lube into his hand, working the tacky substance between his fingers. He uses his clean hand to slide over Barnaby’s stomach, watching him arch up into Kotetsu’s touch, fisting a condom in his hand as Kotetsu’s fingers circle around his cock, stroking him with teasing, feather-light touches.
“Kotetsu,” Barnaby breathes, and Kotetsu looks to his face, with his red cheeks and his messy hair over the pillows and his glasses tipped slightly askew over his nose. He looks absolutely beautiful, Kotetsu thinks fondly.
“I know, I know,” Kotetsu hums. He watches Barnaby bring his leg up a bit, particularly watches the muscle in Barnaby’s calf press flat against his thigh, resisting the urge to lean in and bite it, it looks so delicious. Instead, he slides his lube-slick hand to Barnaby’s entrance, rubbing his middle finger over Barnaby’s hole with teasing pressure, hard enough for the tip to go in, but nothing else. Barnaby gets frustrated with ease, tossing his head back with a grunt, and that’s when Kotetsu steals the moment to slide his first finger inside, watching Barnaby’s body tense as he lets out a low moan. The tendons in his neck flex in a way that’s so tantalizing, Kotetsu really does lean in and bite at him, suck kisses into the pale flesh of his neck.
He works Barnaby open with skill; he knows what he’s doing, of course. Before this, before now, if someone had told Kotetsu he’d be used to sex like this, specifically not with a woman, Kotetsu would probably laugh, blush, roll his eyes. But sex with Barnaby is great, from the fingering to the oral to everything in between. Maybe it’s because it’s with Barnaby, not so much the fact it’s with another man, that makes it so good, but he doesn’t think too much about it now. Not when Barnaby’s rocking his hips into Kotetsu’s fingers, panting out a needy noise.
“Yes, yes, yes,” Barnaby’s chanting as Kotetsu picks up the pace, the slow stretch quickly morphing into something more intense. Kotetsu’s practically fucking Barnaby with two of his fingers now, quick pumps of his fingers inside of him that make Barnaby moan out the most delicious noises, noises that Kotetsu steals a taste of now and then, kissing Barnaby’s half-open mouth when he can manage. Barnaby’s chest heaves with his panting, and two fingers quickly turn into three, and that’s when Barnaby’s really feeling it.
“Ko—Kotetsu,” he gasps out, clenches his teeth for a moment before choking out a groan, shaking his head. “Put it in—it’s fine, I’m fine—“
“Aw, now?” Kotetsu teases, peppering kisses along Barnaby’s jawline, nipping at the base of his ear. “You look so good, though, Bunny…”
“Please? Please,” Barnaby whispers, and the look of pleasure, of desperation, of need on Barnaby’s face, well, it’d be enough to make anyone go weak. Kotetsu is certainly no exception, and he chuckles a little as he withdraws his fingers, giving Barnaby’s clenched fist a little tap.
“Condom,” he requests, and Barnaby’s eyes blink open as he looks to his fists hand, letting his flexed fingers fall open to reveal the little foil in his palm. Kotetsu takes it, smiles at Barnaby’s flush as he sits back to roll it on, licking his lips as he watches Barnaby struggle not to squirm, his cock lying flush against his stomach. His eyes follow up Barnaby’s body, over every inch of creamy skin until he’s looking at Barnaby’s face, his half-hazy gaze at Kotetsu as he runs his teeth over his lower lip, internally thrumming with excitement at what’s to come.
Kotetsu smooths his hands over Barnaby’s legs again, giving his shapely thighs a squeeze that makes Barnaby’s hips cant up a bit, eager. His little murmur of, “Kotetsu, please,” does not go unheard, and Kotetsu smiles down at him as he reaches to line himself up with Barnaby, teasing rubbing the blunt head of his cock against Barnaby’s hole, making him writhe as he suppresses the urge to scream for Kotetsu to do it, fuck him, he wants it so badly—
Slowly, Kotetsu presses himself inside. Barnaby’s hot and tight, all around him, and he lets out a low groan through his parted lips, eyes pressed shut as pleasure thrums throughout him. He feels Barnaby shift, and then Barnaby’s legs are hooking around his hips, ankles crossed behind his back, and he squeezes, trying to get Kotetsu all the way inside of him. The strength in Barnaby’s body, his legs especially, is not something to be trifled with, and Kotetsu obeys, pushing until he’s seated all the way inside.
“God,” Barnaby hisses out, arms coming up to grip onto Kotetsu, cradle the back of Kotetsu’s head, clutch at his shoulders. Kotetsu lowers his face into the hollow of Barnaby’s neck, sealing them from hip to head, and he lets out a shaking breath against Barnaby’s skin, feeling Barnaby tremble under him.
“Please,” Barnaby nearly whimpers, and Kotetsu grants him a wet kiss to his neck as he pulls his hips back, and presses into Barnaby once again.
He starts slow, mostly because the noises that fall out of Barnaby’s mouth are simply drool-inducing. He isn’t too loud, but he’s certainly loud enough, moans trickling out between his shallow breaths, little commands of “more” and “Kotetsu” and strings of filthy curses that make Kotetsu grin devilishly; he likes being the one to make Barnaby come apart like this, in only the most pleasurable of ways, before putting him back together with all of his kisses and adoration, showering him in affection.
Kotetsu cages Barnaby in with his forearms, picking up his pace with a groan against Barnaby’s jaw. The quicker he thrusts into him, the louder Barnaby gets, the tighter his grip is on Kotetsu’s hair, nails digging into Kotetsu’s tanned shoulders. His legs are a tight vice around his hips, trying to pull him back in each time Kotetsu backs out, and Kotetsu can’t help but mumble a breathless, “That desperate, huh?”
Barnaby answers with a jerky nod, and Kotetsu turns his head a little to see Barnaby’s bangs sticking to his forehead, a blush high on his cheeks as he opens his mouth around silent screams, holding Kotetsu tight.
“More,” he gasps out, jerking up a little beneath Kotetsu. “Kotetsu—“
“Yeah,” Kotetsu murmurs, braces himself a little better as he gives one sharp thrust, hard enough to make Barnaby jostle on the bed, and Barnaby actually gasps out loud at that. He lets out a long groan immediately after, nodding again as he hugs Kotetsu closer, arms wound over Kotetsu’s broad shoulders.
“That—do that—again—“ Barnaby’s spluttering as Kotetsu obeys his pleas, moving inside him at a fast, hard pace. Barnaby’s bed—expensive, luxurious—doesn’t really creak under Kotetsu ramming into him over and over, but it doesn’t need to. Barnaby’s moaning makes everything better, especially when Kotetsu’s thrusts hit him just right, perfect, and Barnaby’s back arches as he cries out.
Kotetsu drops a hand down to Barnaby’s cock, and just the act of him holding Barnaby there makes the man himself nearly shout in delight, gasping out his need as he clings tighter, ruts roughly upwards to get some stimulation. Kotetsu strokes him, then, in firm flicks of his wrist as he slams his cock into Barnaby, over and over—
“I—I—!” Barnaby chokes out, but he doesn’t get to say anything else besides a cry of Kotetsu’s name as he comes, trembling as orgasm slams over him. He’s a moaning mess, breathless gasps right next to Kotetsu’s ear, his nails digging into Kotetsu’s skin as he writhes through the throws of orgasm Kotetsu has finally granted him.
Kotetsu only lasts a bit longer himself, and it’s mostly Barnaby’s sighs—ah, ah, haa—that have Kotetsu bracing himself, stiffening as he spills, groaning in pants against Barnaby’s warm skin. His hips twitch as he savors the sensation, deep inside Barnaby, feeling so good it’s almost like he’s delirious, and he relaxes there atop Barnaby, face buried against his partner’s neck, pressing exhausted kisses there.
Barnaby strokes at his back, over his arms. He whispers for Kotetsu to move so they can clean up, so he does and they do, albeit in a rather lazy manner. After, they flop into Barnaby’s bed, with Barnaby’s head on Kotetsu’s chest, Kotetsu with his arm slung around Barnaby.
Kotetsu nods off to Barnaby nuzzling his skin, pressing sleepy kisses to his neck and shoulder, and it’s absolutely one of the best nights’ sleep he’s had in a while.
In the morning, after another quick romp in the shower, Kotetsu and Barnaby manage to scrounge up enough time to get coffee before work. Kotetsu buys a newspaper—some trashy tabloid, but it doesn’t really matter—with his drink, and they end up sitting at some table tucked away in the corner, making quiet conversation with each other so they don’t draw too much attention.
Kotetsu moves to unfold the paper he bought, and literally before he can even read anything on the front page, there’s a picture of him and Barnaby, from the show last night. They’re both looking at each other with a smile, mid-conversation with the host, and Kotetsu wonders why such a thing could be front-page news, except then he’s reading the actual text—
Tiger & Bunny: More Than “Just Friends”?
“Holy shit,” Kotetsu whispers, and Barnaby looks over the lip of his cup to Kotetsu with silent curiosity. When Kotetsu doesn’t elaborate, Barnaby reaches to tug down the top of the newspaper, which Kotetsu then willingly turns around for Barnaby to see.
The little brat smiles, trying to stifle it with a sip of coffee.
“Bunny!” Kotetsu hisses, leaning in to make their conversation less explosive, less likely to draw attention. “What the hell is funny about this?”
Barnaby looks at Kotetsu with a bemused glance, setting down his drink as he shakes his head. “It seriously isn’t a big deal,” he says, the words a little clipped as he resists the urge to finish the sentence with Kotetsu’s actual name. “There’s always going to be gossip—we got pretty mouthy last night, anyway. Besides, here,” Barnaby adds, tapping the title of the paper in Kotetsu’s hands. Stern Bild Stratosphere. “This is a trashy tabloid, anyway.”
“Tons of people read this, though—and seriously believe this stuff!” Kotetsu defends, flipping to the page where the article about them is continued. Even with a quick skim, Kotetsu notes things about their fairly-raunchy quips last night during the interview, and suddenly feels the urge to disappear. This kind of thing, if people seriously knew—
“Tiger.” Barnaby tuts, and Kotetsu looks at him, trying to swallow down his worried sigh. “It’s fine. We haven’t said anything serious.”
Kotetsu rubs at his forehead a bit. “I don’t—“
“You’re thinking too much about it,” Barnaby offers, and Kotetsu sighs around a weak smile, nodding his head a bit.
“Probably,” he admits; Barnaby’s much more used to this kind of thing than him, so if Barnaby doesn’t seem worried, then maybe it really isn’t a big deal. It’s just that, Kotetsu’s public persona, and who he is behind closed doors, and how hard he’s worked to have Barnaby trust him enough to have this kind of relationship altogether is… a lot to put on the line.
Barnaby nudges Kotetsu’s coffee towards him, looking at with a bit of compassion, worry maybe?
“Your coffee is getting cold,” he tells him, and Kotetsu smiles as he nods, takes a drink. It’s warm, not hot, but it’s not bad.
Not even three minutes later do their call bracelets go off, and Kotetsu moves to dump their trash before they head out, shitty tabloid paper and all.
Put out of his mind for the time being, they race to the scene.