nairuru:

“…. and the fingers that slide up the length of his back are cold, calloused, familiar. The touch is feather-light, barely there, a caress of frost on his burning hot skin like the mixing of fire and ice.

Kenma feels the heat crawl up his face; shivers when the water droplets slide off Kuroo’s body and coat his own. His body- no, his being -seeks
Kuroo, instinctively arching into him. Kuroo receives him with a low
rumble that sounds deep in his throat, his lips meeting the strip of
sensitive skin behind Kenma’s ear and Kenma’s resolve crumbles, a mewl
escaping his lips.    

Hair as dark as midnight tickles his cheek and it smells of green
apples, and the only thing Kenma can think of is just how much he wants this man, how much he’s always wanted him. And when their lips meet, Kenma stops thinking all together ….”

– qi-tana