Omo Sides One-Shots

Don't Touch - Logince

Roman loves seeing Logan vulnerable, teary eyed, squirming, and desperate. The aftermath makes it all the more better.

Warnings: holding, omorashi/wetting, teasing, bondage, mentions of sex

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Roman is a sadist. So? Sue him. He enjoys seeing his so very stoic and put together boyfriend fall apart at his hands, and his hands only, taking his own pleasure in the way Logan whines and writhes underneath him. And on top of him. And beside him. The way Logan goes silent, mouth agape, eyes filled with unshed tears that brim over and spill down his cheeks. Logan looks ravishing being pulled apart.

But what is more beautiful is when Logan is just teetering the cusp of losing it. The furrowing of his eyebrows, the tension in his shoulders, the pretty look of anticipation on his face.

It helps that his lover is one hell of a masochist.

Roman is sure if he was a weaker man, he would take the other man right then and there, but this is not even the best part. So, he waits, patiently from a few steps away, sitting on his boyfriend's bed, legs crossed and hands in his lap – and it is so tempting to reach for his half hard cock, but he resists – watching like a hawk as Logan squirms in his chair, legs crossed and hands bound to the arm rests, loose but Logan knows better than to try and escape, not that he would really want to.

"How close, darling?"

Logan's eyes raise from staring towards his lap, seemingly shocked at the reminder of Roman's presence and he merely blinks at him for a moment or two before finding his voice again.

"Close," he rasps out, voice beautifully broken, "so close, Ro, please."

Roman hums, almost in consideration, coming to a stand and walking around his lover, coming up behind him, head resting on his shoulder, he whispers, "you can go whenever you want, love, I'm not stopping you."

A short huff of a sigh escapes Logan, his face pinched in that cute frustration Roman loves to kiss away often. He lets himself press a gentle kiss to Logan's temple, hands sliding and wandering down the lithe expanses of his lover's covered body, half lax and the other half greedy, he is allowed to be a little appreciative and possessive after all. That is until his hands run too low on Logan's stomach, brushing against the taught skin where the obvious bulge presses against his shirt. Logan audibly gasps, sharp and pained.

"Don't- don't touch my stomach, I'm bursting," he begs, eyes already a little wet and teary, Roman can see the pretty glint from where he towers over the other man.

"Hm, what was that?" he asks, voice smooth and borderline mocking, "not to touch here, you say?"

He does so again, hands against his lower stomach, more forceful and pressing this time, fingers edging under the black shirt to rub and caress the warm skin, brushing against the waist of his trousers and his belt.

"Fuck," Logan hisses out through clenched teeth, those pretty eyes squeezed shut and his thighs squeeze all the same, yet Roman can see the damp patch on the blue of his jeans and the faintest twitch of his cock beneath the clothing, and he smiles. His hand consciously cups the stomach bulge harder now, his impatience weighing on him, his cock quickly taking more of an interest in the developing situation.

Logan's lower lip trembles barely, wet and swollen from biting.

"Look at me, baby," Roman coos, peering over, now more at Logan's side than before.

Those bright, blue eyes open, tears easily escaping down his red cheeks.

"Let go, my love," he whispers, hands taking on a softer caressing, "you've held so well for me, and have been such a good boy, you deserve to let go, baby."

There is that silence of slight hesitation as always, Roman understands, Logan never wants to fail him, even during a scene, he always wants to do his best regardless, as if letting go too soon would be a failure rather than something uncontrollably hot. So, Roman kisses him gentle and soothing on his lips, smiling as Logan relaxes in his hold, whining ever so slightly into the kiss.

The soft pattering of liquid dripping off the chair and onto the floor is faint at first but Roman pulls away, a hand coming to Logan's hair to keep that comfort contact, and his eyes wander, letting himself drink in the obscene sight. Logan flushed and lax, his eyes threatening to pull closed, legs spread as far as he can, jeans soaked and glistening. He looks, quite frankly, debauched. Sinfully so. And that is before Roman has even gotten into his pants.

"Fuck," Roman whispers out gravelly, aroused and hungry, and he leads Logan into a rough and bruising kiss. Pulling away breathless and flushed, and Logan has the audacity to look smug, still tied up and wet.

"I'm going to fuck that smug smile off your perfect little face."

"You might have to untie me first."