"You ready?"
Kuroo turned his head to look over his shoulder at the beautiful actor just a few paces behind him. He chuckled a bit, pleased when his guest's expression changed from one of pensive contemplation to mild amusement. Oikawa was always too tense, or so Kuroo thought. He'd been in entertainment since childhood, so maybe he knew something about the business Kuroo didn't, but staging a photo op for the paparazzi really wasn't a big deal to him at this point. Having spent several months on the road touring already, he was fairly certain he knew what he was doing.
"Of course. Did Mr. Naoi give you any specifics?" Oikawa pushed his brown glasses up further on his nose from where they'd been sliding down, Kuroo's eyes following the movement of his hand. Oikawa really was gorgeous, perfectly proportional with the looks of an angel. He took his career to the next level a while back when he began acting alongside his print and runway gigs, but secretly, Kuroo bemoaned the fact that accepting more movie roles meant fewer pictures of his lover halfway (or sometimes fully) naked.
"He was pretty vague, actually. As in, 'Make it look intimate, but not explicitly homoerotic' type vague," Kuroo replied, forcing himself to meet Oikawa's gaze instead of focusing on how his lips were impossibly perfect in both size and shape.
"Hm, well okay." Oikawa sighed as if this was the biggest inconvenience he'd ever faced, though Kuroo knew better than to fall for it. For a nominated actor (no wins, but Kuroo knew better than to mention that) he was absolute shit at hiding things from people who actually knew him. "We'll go by the doors to the balcony off the hallway, the one with the sliding glass. I'll have my coat on- wait, no, one of your coats and act like we're saying goodbye. I'll be at your show tonight, but they don't know that, so we'll make a big deal about 'Faraway Friends' or 'Lost Lovers' or however they want to spin it."
"Sounds good," Kuroo agreed, shoooting his manager a quick text. "So… can we make out now, or what? It's going to take a few minutes for my people on the ground to wrangle all the fans and cameras to the right side of the building."
"I literally just blew you, can you keep it in your pants for like one second?" Oikawa shook his head in mock disappointment. "And anyway, the terrace overlooks the left side of the building."
Kuroo grinned widely and spread his hands, not offended in the least. "C'mon now, it's been months since I've been in L.A. and even longer than that since we've seen each other. Do you not love me anymore, Your Highness?"
Oikawa took a step forward into Kuroo's arms, but not until he made a big show of rolling his eyes in exacerbation first. "That really is a stupid nickname but, mm." He trailed off, lifting his head and looking up at Kuroo with the most sinfully beautiful eyes that Kuroo felt his knees grow weak. "I don't mind it coming from you, if it means I'm your king."
"Oh, I don't know about that," Kuroo replied as he wrapped his arms tightly around the slender man's waist., making Oikawa pout even as he leaned in closer. "I think princess suits you better, since you like being my bitch so much."
Kuroo heard Oikawa's breath hitch just a second before he was being pulled down by the collar into a searing hot kiss. His lips were so soft, tasting of spearmint (whether gum or toothpaste, Kuroo wasn't sure) and he wanted more. Oikawa had one hand on his strong bicep, bracing himself, and the other had slid behind Kuroo's neck to deepen the kiss. He parted his lips first and Kuroo followed his lead, content to let the other man set the pace. He tilted his head more, pressing close to Oikawa and letting out a small groan as he felt a hot tongue slide across his own.
Kuroo used his weight advantage to slam Oikawa against the counter in the hotel room's kitchen, causing the model to make a sound that could've been pain but was unmistakably pleasure. He would probably have a bruise on his lower back (Kuroo knew how sensitive Oikawa's skin was from experience) but didn't seem to care right then, manicured nails scraping at Kuroo's back through his clothes. He released Oikawa's waist and broke their kiss, a string of saliva falling from the other boy's lips. Oikawa opened his eyes blearily, looking a bit confused as to why Kuroo had stopped, but his questions dissolved into a moan when Kuroo began to nip at his neck, just under his jaw and right over his throbbing pulse point.
He bent his knees a bit, lips sliding down Oikawa's neck to compensate, and lifted the model. Used to this, Oikawa's legs wrapped around Kuroo's hips and his arms around his neck as he was seated on the cold marble. Kuroo was now sucking on his collarbone, the brunette sliding his hands into Kuroo's messy hair and tugging, earning him a hot moan against his skin.
Kuroo kissed his way up Oikawa's neck to his perfect jawline where he stilled, breathing hot and heavy against the tanned skin. Oikawa fidgeted, obviously uncomfortable, and glancing down, Kuroo acknowledged that he had every right to be. He was sporting a rather impressive bulge, which Kuroo immediately cupped and began massaging the heel of his hand over as Oikawa threw his his head back, neck decorated with beautiful pink marks from aggressive lips and teeth.
"Fuck," he hissed, hips bucking up against Kuroo's hand. "We can't do this right now. The picture!" His protests were weak however, and his body betrayed him when Kuroo twisted a hard nipple through his thin cotton shirt. Oikawa's back arched so much so that he ended up sinking back against the counter, leaving him on his back with his shirt hiked up and his legs still tightly crossed behind Kuroo's back, pulling him in tighter despite what he had just said. He panted as Kuroo chuckled, leaning down over him.
"You're right, we don't have much time," Kuroo acknowledged half heartedly. "But I didn't get to have my breakfast yet." He reached behind himself, unclasping Oikawa's legs and laying them over his shoulders. Oikawa, who caught on quickly, lifted his hips so Kuroo could peel his tighter-than-hell leather pants down his legs.
"Arms above your head," ordered Kuroo quietly, a strange half smile on his face that made Oikawa follow his direction without question, shuddering silently. Kuroo kneeled on the floor in front of the low counter between Oikawa's legs, pleased at the view. The model was clean shaven, as usual, and looked so delicious it hurt. He used the flat of his tongue to swipe over Oikawa's asshole, pinning his hands with one hand and using the other to part his cheeks to get better access.
Oikawa positively writhed, and his legs curled tight around Kuroo, trying to get his face closer to his burning body. Kuroo maintained a slow pace though, probing around his lover's entrance with little kitten licks that made Oikawa squirm as he rubbed his cock with the hand he'd used to spread him earlier. He dipped the tip of his tongue into Oikawa's opening, pleased when the other man seemed to push back against him. Moving a bit higher, Kuroo licked at his perineum, which caused him to outright squeal from the stimulation. He went back to softly teasing his rim, bringing Oikawa back down a bit, not wanting him to reach orgasm yet.
When he thought Oikawa was ready for some more, he once again moved back up, this time laving his tongue over a baby soft patch of skin under his balls that was so sensitive this action made the model positively shriek. The sound was purely pornographic, and part of the reason everyone who'd ever slept with Oikawa thought he could make even more money than he already did if he got into the adult film industry. Kuroo carefully sucked at his balls, his thumb running over the head of his cock, dragging over the slit for precome to make the motion easier.
"Kuroo," Oikawa panted, causing him to look up from his ministrations. "I'm close."
Kuroo began to pump his hand a little faster, twisting it up and down the model's perfect shaft. Everything about Oikawa was perfect, even his cock, and he looked particularly beautiful when he orgasmed too. Kuroo decided he'd deprived himself of the sight long enough and picked up the pace, sucking on the head as he jacked him off.
It didn't take long for him to cum, the slightly bitter fluid flooding Kuroo's mouth. Oikawa collapsed back on the countertop, completely fucked out of his mind, legs releasing Kuroo. He stood up slowly, one foot asleep from kneeling on it for so long, and grabbed a napkin to spit into. He walked to the aluminum trashcan, stepped on the pedal a little harder than strictly necessary (he found the banging sound it made somehow pleasing), and threw it out before returning to his lover who hadn't moved. He grabbed some Kleenex, gently cleaning up his hypersensitive partner as best he could, before giving Oikawa a little shake.
"Sit up," he said, slipping a hand under his back to help Oikawa upright. "Feeling okay?" Once he was certain Oikawa could hold himself up, he went to the fridge and pulled out two bottles of cold water.
"For now? Yeah," Oikawa said with a little snicker, accepting the offered water and tilting his head back as he drained half the bottle in one go. "Check in tomorrow at my photoshoot." He didn't look mad (and God, how could he? Kuroo could seriously eat ass, and he knew it) but it was true his manager would likely be very unhappy about the various hickeys scattered about.
"Sorry," Kuroo replied, clearly not sorry at all. "Speaking of photos, don't we still need to deal with the paparazzi outside?"
Oikawa shook his head in exasperation. "Yes, yes we do," he replied impatiently. Glancing over at the microwave display to check the time, he gave a heavily exaggerated sigh. "And you're going to be late for tech run if we don't in the next ten minutes. Actually, you're already late, but then you'd be really late. Honestly, how irresponsible of you, Tetsu," he teased.
Kuroo laughed at that, taking his lover's hand to help him down from the counter. As Oikawa fixed himself back into his jeans, Kuroo took the opportunity to fondly brush his fingers through his soft chestnut hair. "Okay, remind me of the plan again? I give you a jacket, we're walking past the balcony, and then we do something 'intimate but not homoerotic'?"
"Pretty much," replied the actor, using the reflection of the chrome fridge to fix up his appearance. He turned to Kuroo, who hadn't bothered fixing much of anything (least of all his hair- it was a lost cause, but you had to give Oikawa props for trying) and did his best to straighten him up too.
"Let's just hold hands, stop in front of the window like we're talking, and then I'll kiss you on the cheek. Sound good?" Oikawa asked, surveying Kuroo and deeming him presentable. He definitely still seemed a bit mussed, but Oikawa probably figured that hey, maybe that would play into the whole mostly-true gay affair story.
"So long as I get a better kiss in the elevator," Kuroo replied, smirking. Oikawa turned away fast, but Kuroo still caught the smile that graced his lips. He grabbed his favorite jacket, black leather of course, threw it over Oikawa's shoulders, and let the other man lead him out of the room.