Page 94 of Xerxes Ascendant
“Yeah, but...” Kyle had lost hold of his earlier thoughts. He struggled to remember. Something about not wanting to mess up this immaculate space and feeling like he was dirtying it just by standing here, despite the shower he’d taken to scrub off the lingering grime of the waste processing plant and their other adventures. “But you...”
“My eyes are up here, sweetheart.”
Akira’s tone was light, teasing, and when Kyle obligingly lifted his head he found the man’s gaze hungrily devouring Kyle’s own body in turn, catching on his stiff cock.
“I, uh...we should get dressed,” Kyle said.
As much as there was a bedright there, this was not the place for such things. Somewhere in the house was Akira’s wife anddaughter, as of yet unseen due to the way he had immediately ushered them both into his room to get cleaned up, but still palpable in their presence.
“Very well.”
There was a whisper of petulance in Akira’s posture as he crossed to the dresser, and the way he bent over to reach into the lowest drawer was both overpronounced and enticingly distracting. More teasing.
Kyle reluctantly averted his eyes from the fetching sight. And then realising that Akira’s clothes wouldn’t fit him and that his own were still ripped and dirty, he faltered. “I don’t have anything to wear.”
He blinked at the hoodie and pants Akira tossed at him.
Kyle’shoodie and pants.
“You can lecture me after you put those on,” Akira said shortly. “Tell me that I’m a thief, and a creep, and a stalker, and a hundred other despicable things. But at least you’ll be warm and clean while saying it.”
He turned on his heel and strode into the wardrobe – by the stars, it was awalk-in wardrobe, the rich, lovable asshole – in which all of Epsilon’s precious suits could be seen hung up neatly on rails.
Kyle shrugged on his stolen clothes and settled in to enjoy the view as Akira got dressed himself, pulling black briefs and matching trousers up over that toned ass before shrugging on a jacket over the crisply pressed shirt. Donning his armour.
In his own home, for crying out loud. Did the man not own a t-shirt? Stars forbid,shorts? One day Kyle would get his kitten to acknowledge the existence of casualwear.
“You think I’m mad at you for taking my clothes?” he murmured, coming up behind him and wrapping Akira into a tight hug that kept his arms pinned at his sides. Kyle nipped playfully at his neck, enjoying the way it made his boyfriendmove delightfully against him. “I think the fact that you wanted to get off with them at night is quite sweet, actually.”
His indignance at the accusation was evident in the way he stiffened in Kyle’s grip. “I did notget offwith your clothes!”
“No?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?” pressed Kyle, smirking. He buried his face into the shoulder of his hoodie. “It smells like you, sweetheart.”
“I may have...” Akira struggled to speak the words, eventually muttering them with his face turned firmly away. “...snuggled it.”
Kyle squeezed him tighter, laughing as Akira growled out token protest. That he had prioritised Kyle’s comfort over his own, fearing judgement and condemnation and yet still handing over the stolen clothing anyway, made Kyle’s heart grow even fonder.
Akira melted into his arms. “You’re...not mad?”
“No. You’re adorable, kitten.” Kyle planted a gentle kiss on the top of his head. Then he spun him around and pushed him roughly against the wall, taking advantage of Akira’s still undone trousers to slide his hand down and cup the impressive bulge in his underwear. Those big brown eyes turned instantly hazy.
“These look expensive,” Kyle murmured appreciatively, stroking him through the fabric of his briefs. Akira’s head fell back against the wall, his hands clutching into helpless fists at his sides. “Do you have plenty spare in case Iaccidentallydestroy this pair?”
“I do,” he gasped out.
Kyle hooked a finger behind the waistband and used it to yank his man close, relishing the throbbing hardness he could feel pressed against him.
“Shame. I’d like to have seen you go without.”
“Sir,” Akira slurred. “Anything you want.”
Kyle tsked. “Behave,” he chastised with abject unfairness, stepping back so he could admire – and draw more attention to – the dampness on his submissive’s underwear. “We’re in a respectable house here, don’t you know?”
With effort, Akira regained his composure. “Fuck,” he muttered, fastening his fly over the evidence of his arousal and keeping his eyes demurely downcast. “You’re going to be the death of me, Sir.”
