[ When Mei pushes his hips forwards, ruts against his wrist, Miyuki doesn't stop him. He just gets his jeans undone, presses down against where he can feel him hard in them, and pulls, helps him get them off. And it's - a blessing as much as it is a curse. There's less material in the way of the scent of slick, of the pure, concentrated heat roiling off of Mei. His eyes almost roll back in his head, to be honest. He just barely manages to keep his focus, but he does groan a little as he breathes it in.
And then there's nothing at all between them. Mei blankets his chest, muscle against muscle, heated and already slick skin pressed together, and that's it. There's nothing else stopping them. Sure, this was what Kazuya was trying to egg on, but, fuck - fuck, it's a lot.
Rather than push him off, or just get straight to it, he slots himself right against the cleft of Mei's ass, sliding in slick as his hands shoot up to his head. Fingers curl into his hair, almost a snare, and he drags him into a wet, open-mouthed kiss, hungry to swallow down that noise as he rocks his hips up against him. It isn't quite enough yet, but it won't take long at all to get that enough. Not after this. ]
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And then there's nothing at all between them. Mei blankets his chest, muscle against muscle, heated and already slick skin pressed together, and that's it. There's nothing else stopping them. Sure, this was what Kazuya was trying to egg on, but, fuck - fuck, it's a lot.
Rather than push him off, or just get straight to it, he slots himself right against the cleft of Mei's ass, sliding in slick as his hands shoot up to his head. Fingers curl into his hair, almost a snare, and he drags him into a wet, open-mouthed kiss, hungry to swallow down that noise as he rocks his hips up against him. It isn't quite enough yet, but it won't take long at all to get that enough. Not after this. ]