Omi wasn't about to get in the way of Akaya taking his clothes off, even if a part of him was loathe for any distance between their bodies. The jacket and top disappeared, revealing an irresistible set of abs and nicely defined chest that Omi immediately put his hands on. Fingers traced hard curves of muscle on their way to the hem of Akaya's pants; they jerked into a grip around it through a hiss of pleasure when Akaya grabbed him-- no need for coaxing up.

He tugged and fumbled at the fly to those dark pants, eager to get inside them.