Chuuya is staring down him with wide eyes from where he stood between Osamu’s spread legs, his sharp features twisted into a startled expression. Osamu basks in Chuuya’s surprise; basks in the way his teeth grit and his hands clamp around Osamu’s shoulders. It was delightful.

“Chuuya,” Osamu murmurs, his voice low like a predator’s purr. His fingers curl into the soft curve of Chuuya’s waist, the fabric of Chuuya’s suit scrunching under his hold. His uncovered eye is dark and lidded, gazing up at Chuuya with desire and heat he didn’t bother to conceal, the red-brown of his iris swirling with lust.

“There’s a few things I’ve noticed that you need to improve on in bed.” Osamu says, his palms sliding down to squeeze Chuuya’s hips and drag him a little closer. His chin brushes Chuuya’s chest. At his words, his partner immediately looks offended and pissed, his mouth parting to say something, but Osamu beats him to it.

“Chuuya, when I tell you to sit on my face, don’t just put ten percent of your body weight down—“ Osamu’s lips split into a grin, “Fucking sit on it. Sit, like a chair.” He grips Chuuya’s ass in both of his hands, loving the way the redhead gasps. “I want all of it, baby.”