It isn't as if Haruto has that much more experience than Nitoh--at least, he doesn't think so, and it isn't as if months of pining over his closest friend actually counts as a bolster to his record. The last time he got this close to anyone, he was at a drinking party at the very beginning of his time in the minor soccer leagues. That girl hadn't been anything like Nitoh, not least because he cared about Nitoh, and his desire to see Nitoh sated and satisfied is at least half the fault of his feelings about Nitoh.

He has to tilt away from kissing Nitoh in order to try and get his breath back as Nitoh pulls his dick free. A desperate moment of low breathing interrupted by short moans ends in him leaning his forehead to Nitoh's shoulder, riding out the sensation of Nitoh's fingers on his cock. Slowly, he begins to slide his fingers down the length of Nitoh's in response, investigating carefully. Nitoh's underwear is definitely limiting the range of his wrist, and he hooks his other hand in the waistband to pull on it.