[Komaeda doesn't care how or where Hinata touches him so long as those hands are on him. Somehow he's found something like this in his life, and it never ceases to be amazing to him that it's okay for him to have it. That Hinata is really here with him, wanting him.
But it's hard to hold onto those thoughts, or any thoughts. THey all just race through his mind in the torrent of pleasure that rushes through him like a river over rapids. His chest arches towards those hands and even if he doesn't want to, he has to break away from that kiss to gasp for air, a thread of moisture still clinging between their lips.
His back arches and he leans back so he can angle his hips down harder, crying out Hinata's name again and again, his favorite litany.] Hajime... Hajime... I love you... [His own hands drag fitfully down Hinata's chest, tracing over the definition of pectorals.]
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But it's hard to hold onto those thoughts, or any thoughts. THey all just race through his mind in the torrent of pleasure that rushes through him like a river over rapids. His chest arches towards those hands and even if he doesn't want to, he has to break away from that kiss to gasp for air, a thread of moisture still clinging between their lips.
His back arches and he leans back so he can angle his hips down harder, crying out Hinata's name again and again, his favorite litany.] Hajime... Hajime... I love you... [His own hands drag fitfully down Hinata's chest, tracing over the definition of pectorals.]