They recover quickly, at least. He groans into the kiss as he feels the pull of Akaya's fingers in his hair, the leg on his hip. That urgency of need they share when they're together that only ever screams More. Closer. Even when it hurts, it's pleasure.

He pushes his hips against Akaya's and fumbles his hand out to the side for the lube he brought back from his room. He has enough dexterity to open the cap and wet his fingertips one-handed. Still deep in the tangle of tongues, Omi shifts his weight to one knee and reaches in between Akaya's legs to brush slickened fingers against his entrance, sliding them inside just moments later and building quickly to a rhythm of hard thrusting.