His body arches at the slightest touch of those strong, warm fingers, as though seeking out for more. They quickly withdraw, picking elsewhere to tease, and the cycle begins anew.
"That is not how you make things up to me," Senga gripes at Tamamori. The effect of his complaint is lost in the short panting breaths he takes, though, especially when Tamamori brushes over a particular spot on his torso, followed by a warm, wet tongue tracing its wake. Tamamori's other hand wanders lower until he reaches where Senga desires the most contact, and the friction sends a wave of relief over the younger man. He pushes into the tight circle Tamamori makes with his fist, and Senga scrambles for something to hold onto, finding purchase in Tamamori's hair. He tugs at the strands and Tamamori raises his head to meet Senga's kiss halfway, tongue curling into Senga's already parted lips.
They part for breath, the kiss breaking when Senga gasps and arches at the way Tamamori's deft fingers are stroking his cock, wrist twisting in a certain way that Senga really likes. Those hands leave for a while, and Senga doesn't stop the whine coming from his throat until it's cut off by Tamamori replacing those hands with his own tight heat, his need taking over that preparation was a rushed affair.
Tamamori would feel the burn later, but right now what matters is how Senga's cock fills him, and the approving sounds the younger man makes. Making up for scaring Senga beyond his wits has never been more rewarding.
...I can has my sleep now? (Also, tagging faded_lace)