#veska

“Luka,” Vesemir said.

All he won in response was Luka’s pretty little hum as he wagged his hips back and forth. In one hand, he had a coffee mug, and in the other, the coffeepot, so Vesemir knew better than to go right up to him and start something. If Luka burned himself, Vesemir would be in the doghouse for the next month, at least.

“You have any plans for the day?”

“Nooope, not that I know of.” Luka finished pouring his coffee and turned around to lean against the counter. “Why do you ask?”

The front of Luka’s shorts was more obscene than the back. Impossibly tight, they showed off the curve of his soft cock, and they sat low enough that Vesemir traced the vee of his hips and his smooth skin. He couldn’t have any underwear on underneath, which did little to quell Vesemir’s growing arousal. The things Luka worked himself into just to show himself on were always a sight, and Vesemir’s cock throbbed.

“Just—asking.”

With a smirk, Luka sipped at his coffee. “We both know that’s not true. Tell me what you really want to say, Vesemir.”

“If you don’t change out of those shorts and into some pants, I’ll have them around your ankles by lunchtime.”

“Oh, is that a threat?”

“We can make it right now, if you prefer. Seems like someone needs to set you straight.”

“Why do you think I took a shower this morning, Daddy?”

Vesemir set down his paper and his coffee with a look on his face that sent a shiver down Luka’s spine. How to press Vesemir’s buttons was an art form Luka was well-versed in, and he always loved getting exactly what he wanted. That included the hunger in Vesemir’s eyes, the way he stomped across the kitchen and grabbed Luka by the hips, and the force of his kiss. Luka melted into it, moaning as teeth nipped into his lips and Vesemir’s tongue probed him.

As they kissed, Vesemir tore open Luka’s shorts. Once the zipper was down, he yanked the shorts off Luka’s hips and pulled away from the kiss to look down and see just as he imagined—Luka had nothing on underneath them, and his cock stood half-hard with no touch at all. Vesemir yanked on the shorts again until they were halfway down Luka’s thighs.

“What are you going to do to me, Daddy?” Luka asked.

With a grunt, Vesemir twisted Luka around and shoved him into the counter. Luka caught himself on his hands and pushed back against Vesemir, not quite ready to give up without a fight. As Vesemir pressed into him, he trapped Luka there. Luka couldn’t escape, but he didn’t want to, either. Especially not as Vesemir’s arms came around and planted his hands on the counter.

“I’m going to beat you,” Vesemir whispered with a sensuous grind of his hips.

Placated for the moment, Luka kept his hands on the counter as Vesemir stole one back to cup around his neck and tilt back his head. Vesemir pecked his jaw, pulling a weak sound from Luka’s throat.

“When you’re feeling more agreeable, maybe I’ll fuck you.”

“Fuck,” Luka hissed.