[ Before too long, there's tongue and Ichigo doesn't want them to stop, preferably ever, but nothing lasts that long, so it's a tough call, right? Nothing lasts forever, things always happen, but he wants this particular moment to last as long as possible anyway. Undisturbed. Byakuya's chest is flat and subtly muscular, not bulging from it, but his body doesn't give way under Ichigo's hands either. Doesn't budge, because that's how Byakuya is, of course. That's how Ichigo knows him to be. Letting his hands roam wide-spread and hot over the other man's chest, fingertips bent slightly inward, he kisses Byakuya back, meeting his tongue with his own, pushing it over the slick surface of muscle.
Then, there is a brief pause because Byakuya makes a rough sound at the back of his throat, it reverberates within Ichigo and makes his cock freakin' jerk, and insists on starting to pull on his t-shirt, forcing it over his head fast and efficiently, so they have to break apart for air, for a moment. Ichigo is breathing rapidly, hard, only waiting for the first second when the t-shirt is out of the way, discarded to the floor and he can push down over Byakuya's body again, stretch himself out and be a protective layer over him. He likes that thought. He wants it to be that way.
After looking some, Byakuya pulls him closer again, mouthing down the side of his neck and Ichigo tilts his head to the side to let him, to let him take the lead like that. Ichigo doesn't mind. Following, for once, feels nice, huh.
Running his hands up to Byakuya's shoulders, neck, head, he slips his fingers mindlessly into his hair and doesn't pull at it as much as he gently cups it, feels the long strands curl and curve between his fingers. He's always thought Byakuya had good hair, totally different from his own in every way, color, structure, length. It was just different and kinda tantalizing because of that. Did he really always think so? Being kissed now and holding the other man by the nape of his neck, the back of his head, he decides, yeah. He always thought so. No time to recognise it, sure, but it's not a new feeling.
His breathing feels too shallow and quick, like it's not making its way down into his lungs properly.
Then, Byakuya pushes his thigh up in between Ichigo's legs, rubbing up against his hard cock with the fabric-clad length of his own leg and Ichigo actually moans, bending his head a bit to hide his face in against the other man's shoulder, pressing back, blushing, against him, nose, mouth, crotch. Oh, shit. He ruts against his thigh a few times before catching himself, glancing down into the darkness between their bodies. His voice, when he speaks, is a mutter: ]
At least wait until we're completely naked, okay? I want to feel you. [ Thinner, a bit embarrassed. ] And I don't want to cum in my boxers.
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Then, there is a brief pause because Byakuya makes a rough sound at the back of his throat, it reverberates within Ichigo and makes his cock freakin' jerk, and insists on starting to pull on his t-shirt, forcing it over his head fast and efficiently, so they have to break apart for air, for a moment. Ichigo is breathing rapidly, hard, only waiting for the first second when the t-shirt is out of the way, discarded to the floor and he can push down over Byakuya's body again, stretch himself out and be a protective layer over him. He likes that thought. He wants it to be that way.
After looking some, Byakuya pulls him closer again, mouthing down the side of his neck and Ichigo tilts his head to the side to let him, to let him take the lead like that. Ichigo doesn't mind. Following, for once, feels nice, huh.
Running his hands up to Byakuya's shoulders, neck, head, he slips his fingers mindlessly into his hair and doesn't pull at it as much as he gently cups it, feels the long strands curl and curve between his fingers. He's always thought Byakuya had good hair, totally different from his own in every way, color, structure, length. It was just different and kinda tantalizing because of that. Did he really always think so? Being kissed now and holding the other man by the nape of his neck, the back of his head, he decides, yeah. He always thought so. No time to recognise it, sure, but it's not a new feeling.
His breathing feels too shallow and quick, like it's not making its way down into his lungs properly.
Then, Byakuya pushes his thigh up in between Ichigo's legs, rubbing up against his hard cock with the fabric-clad length of his own leg and Ichigo actually moans, bending his head a bit to hide his face in against the other man's shoulder, pressing back, blushing, against him, nose, mouth, crotch. Oh, shit. He ruts against his thigh a few times before catching himself, glancing down into the darkness between their bodies. His voice, when he speaks, is a mutter: ]
At least wait until we're completely naked, okay? I want to feel you. [ Thinner, a bit embarrassed. ] And I don't want to cum in my boxers.