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Dan laughed. "I just slapped you in the tits, sorry buddy… sorry bro… you naughty little kitty titty…"
"And thank you all for watchi—"
Phil lightly smacked Dan with an inflatable banana, giggling when the other man flinched.
Dan dropped his arms and whipped around to face Phil, "You—" he smiled brightly when he swiped the balloon from him and started to smack him repeatedly with it.
And with that, they were done with filming the femboy banana bread baking video.
Phil squawked when Dan chased him around their kitchen island, almost knocking over the tripod in the process.
The sounds of Phil's various bells jingling combined with the padding of their socked feet skidding filled the room, the scent of freshly baked banana bread clinging to Dan's nose.
"YOU STINKY—"
Phil hissed in response, tripping over his own feet as he turned back to where they started, grabbing onto the counter to stabilize himself.
In that moment, Dan managed to close in on Phil, inflatable banana falling to the floor as he attempted to grapple the other man.
The motions caused the garters over Dan's thighs to press even deeper into his skin. A part of Dan believed Phil to have tied them this tight on purpose for how it felt like they were going to burst at any second.
Instinctively, he grabbed onto Phil's hands, pressing them into the counter's edge to stop him from escaping. He draped himself over Phil's back, trapping him to the counter.
It wasn't a strong hold, it never was. Dan, like Phil, liked the game of it all.
Dan could feel himself getting hard under the lace underwear and skirt, and pressed himself up against Phil's tiny pink shorts.
They'd gone ahead and bought about a dozen of them. Various shades and sizes of black skirts for himself and pink shorts for Phil.
Phil had insisted on it, that a skirt wouldn't show off his assets like he'd want to for the video, and when Dan leaned back to look down at the pump ass framed by the lines of his briefs underneath pink booty shorts, he didn't think he'd ever doubt Phil again.
"Naughty kitty," Dan whispered near his ear, grinding into Phil and using the weight of himself to push the other man down.
Phil moaned at that, back arching as he ground back into Dan, baby pink shirt sliding up.
Dan's tights scratched against Phil's legs as they rubbed against him, and for a brief moment, the slivers of their exposed midriffs met.
It was electric, the shock waves from every bit of skin against skin sending bolts of pleasure across his body and down his spine.
He panted into the nook of Phil's neck, feeling the vibrations from every mewl let out from those plump lips. Dan sloppily kissed the slide of his neck, refraining from biting him.
Was it a bit juvenile of him? Sure. But the tiny part of Dan's brain that was still functioning screamed at him not to bite anywhere visible because their audience would never let it go. He held back the urge for when his mouth could actually reach down to Phil's thighs…
Just like Dan's garters, the choker against his neck pressed into the thin skin right as the thought of biting into Phil's thighs here rocked through him.
Phil, flushed and wanton, on his toes as Dan pushed the already small inseams up another inch to bite down on the flesh of his thighs. Pale legs with red splotches, patches of dark spots amongst a sea of moles.
Dan almost came on the spot, cock hardened under the skirt, and fully sliding up and almost out of its silken restraints.
"Phil," Dan groaned, one hand releasing itself from its hold around Phil's to wrap over his waist.
It was a slutty little thing, swallowed whole by Dan's hand. He'd never admit to anyone other than himself that the imagined imprint of his hand on Phil's waist and ass drove him crazy.
Dan loved to leave his impression on Phil. Get into his space and claim it as his. As Theirs, if he was to be sappy about it.
Entangled mind, body, and soul.
With Phil still white knuckling the counter, Dan's hand skimmed down towards the waistband of the shorts. It was barely enough to cover up his dark briefs underneath, and Dan wanted to see them just a little more.
However, instead of lowering the waistband, he slid his hand further down, grabbing Phil's ass. He made quick work to unclip the pink cat tail and throw it onto the floor, hitting the floor in a clatter of jangles.
Enough of that.
Massaging the palmful, he reached for the raised edge of fabric under his ass, using his fingers to pull it up higher.
Phil made a questioning noise under him, and right as he was about to speak, Dan's other hand came around to press against the tent of pink fabric in the front.
He stuttered with a choked off groan, head falling with his mouth. Dan pulled the shorts higher, delighting in being able to just make out the hint of dark navy from this angle.
"Naughty kitties don't get treats," Dan said, pressing his palm into Phil's dick as it twitched violently.
"Dan," Phil sighed, humping against his hand frantically.
When Dan took his hand away, Phil cried out in desperation.
"Bad kitty," he tutted, and used his free hand to guide Phil to lie down against the counter, getting ever so close to the image of Dan's fantasy.
Phil haphazardly pushed all the baking things aside, the height of the counter allowing him to lift himself up just a fraction on his toes and pop his ass out in a way he knew Dan liked.
It was truly obscene.
Phil clutching clumsily onto the smooth counter top as he mewled with how Dan forced the fabric to rub against him. Flush with desire and embarrassment and every other hidden emotion between them. White cat ears and neck ribbon jingling. Baby pink shirt already lifted to reveal the dip of the small of his back. Bright pink shorts mussed up with his own large hand to reveal the secret navy blue briefs. Miles of pale skin underneath heavy under the weight of flesh. Fine hair and moles dotting every inch of skin like brushstrokes of a painter's magnum opus. Blue and white striped knee socks covering the rest of his legs and feet, the latter of which seemed to barely hold onto the floor.
It was over for Dan.
They were tired from all of the videos they were doing that week, sure, but he'd already been a little worked up the moment Phil started to try on outfits.
Dan let go of the scrunch of fabric long enough to lift his skirt up. He felt himself twitch through the lace underwear and bit his lip, staring down at Phil flushed and squirming on the table.
"Pretty kitty," he breathed out, fingering the edge of lace before pulling it aside to take his cock out.
It was incredibly slippery to the touch, wet from not much more than the idea of fucking Phil.
Dan stroked his dick, imagining what it would be like to fuck Phil like this. He could almost hear how it would sound. The way the slap of skin would echo throughout the open floor plan. How he'd tug Phil's waistband down enough to expose his ass while still keeping them on. Feel him clench around him, the dark skirt draping milky skin like a mockery of censorship as he fucked into him hard and fast.
He decided to tuck that image away for now, saving it for the future for when they would inevitably dress up again and actually have lube within arm's reach.
This would just have to cut it.
"Will kitty be good next time?" Dan asked not really caring for the answer considering the two of them both knew where this was going, but Phil nodded all the same.
After loosely pumping himself a few times, still holding up the skirt, Dan tucked the silk under his balls. He reached up to ruck Phil's shirt up when the man under him did nothing but squirm in response.
Dan snorted, "I really have to do all the work here, huh?"
Phil twisted around and had this slight sour look on his face, stinky baby, and Dan full on laughed. Cock out and soulmate laid across their kitchen counter.
"What're you laughing at?" Phil asked, the only clear sentence he'd spoken in ages.
"Nothing, honey," Dan held his tongue.
My stinky baby.
It was quick work after that, Dan working himself over Phil's body while reaching around for Phil. Finally dig under Phil's waistband and touch that familiar cock.
Dan came over Phil's back, hot ropes of cum painting blushing pink skin and fabric, pulling back from Phil to hold himself up using the counter.
And Dan knew Phil well enough to expect the exasperated grunt, and immediately went to stroke him through his own orgasm, muttering sweet nothings into the still sugar coated air.
And sure, the cute bunny shirt had been completely ruined for now, but Phil was always better at figuring out the washing machine. Plus, they still had a lot of outfits left to run through.
… The rest of which would happen with the camera turned off.