#0422

"lando?"

yuki's grinning, head cocked, eyes gleaming.

lando says nothing in return, but slides off the bed, stalking closer to where his lover leant against a chest of drawers.

they're torso to torso. yuki has to look up, just a bit, and it drives lando near-feral.

"thought i told you not to touch," lando murmurs, fingers tugging at the seam studded with buttons.

"i got hot," yuki replies, fight in shards in his throat, before dissipating completely. he's well acquainted with the look lando drenches him in; assertive, heady, but humoured.

"you got hot?" he mimics, head bopping mockingly as pink lips stretch around a smirk. yuki doesn't respond. he'd probably moan if he opened his mouth.

lando leans forward, lips dragging along his, but not quite locking, and yuki feels his heart quicken. god, it's not the first time he's tasted, yet the thought of their tongues lapping, pushing for more, makes him almost lose control.

hips jut forward, jamming him in place as lando's freakishly massive hands swim under his shirt. it's hot skin against even hotter skin, and yuki wants to beg lando to just kiss him.

"you know how i get baby," lando whispers on his lips, and fuck, doesn't yuki know. he'd already come up to him once during the day, buttoning his shirt up in front of a few of the others, with a look that screamed posessive, before commanding him to keep it that way, and walking off.

it was hot. too hot. and yuki's cheeks were aflame as he sauntered away before he could be bombarded with unanswerable questions.

"i don't want people looking at you like how i do."

and yuki thinks that's impossible anyways, because lando holds too much within his green eyes, no one could ever rival it.

yuki takes a deep breath, "i don't think anyone could physically do that, lando."

and the brit grins at that, resting his forehead against his lover's.

"yeah," his voice low and intentional, eyes darting across yuki's face as lando wonders how he gets him like this, "they can't."