[ Oh. He stays as he is, quiet for a long moment, whilst Ichigo's hand on his cock slows, not entirely but enough. It should be mortifying, this entire situation - clinging to him like sex is somehow new when it isn't (except like this, it is, he's been with one person in his life before and then, for such a long time, there was silence). Thanks to his enemy, however, Byakuya came out of the war with a lot less habitual pride. It's hard to feel anything like that, anything so grand as pride, when you've seen your own innards strewn before your feet and felt your entire world collapse like a curtain, falling. Instead, what he feels now is more along the lines of resignation. Ichigo, of course, slows down to accommodate him and he, in turn, must bear the implications of that. That sometimes, despite all privilege, somehow you are simply less than you want to be.
Ichigo, of course, knows. He's been brought low many, many times yet somehow, he's emerged stronger from it and that's what Byakuya takes now, too. That thought. He shifts, listening to the other man's words as they fall across his ears in hot puffs of air and then, when he's finished talking, he frees one hand in turn and leans back down against the bed, enough to look Ichigo squarely in the eyes. He focuses on keeping his voice even, every stroke of Ichigo's hand making his body feel tight and overheated. ]
I have thought about you in other ways.
[ He frees his hand and pointedly spits in his palm, twice for good measure. The sound is loud between them against the backdrop of quiet in the hotel room. Shifting just enough to make room for himself, he reaches down between their bodies and folds his slick fingers around Ichigo's cock, hard and hot against his palm. He gives it a slow stroke, mirroring what Ichigo's doing to him. He's barely even touched himself for decades, he will have to relearn what it takes. ]
I could see you, through the rain. Your spiritual pressure. [ His breath does catch on his next inhalation and his next words are full of air, his voice thinner than usual: ] I'm sorry you can't see what I saw - I hadn't thought there was much hope left but I was wrong.
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Ichigo, of course, knows. He's been brought low many, many times yet somehow, he's emerged stronger from it and that's what Byakuya takes now, too. That thought. He shifts, listening to the other man's words as they fall across his ears in hot puffs of air and then, when he's finished talking, he frees one hand in turn and leans back down against the bed, enough to look Ichigo squarely in the eyes. He focuses on keeping his voice even, every stroke of Ichigo's hand making his body feel tight and overheated. ]
I have thought about you in other ways.
[ He frees his hand and pointedly spits in his palm, twice for good measure. The sound is loud between them against the backdrop of quiet in the hotel room. Shifting just enough to make room for himself, he reaches down between their bodies and folds his slick fingers around Ichigo's cock, hard and hot against his palm. He gives it a slow stroke, mirroring what Ichigo's doing to him. He's barely even touched himself for decades, he will have to relearn what it takes. ]
I could see you, through the rain. Your spiritual pressure. [ His breath does catch on his next inhalation and his next words are full of air, his voice thinner than usual: ] I'm sorry you can't see what I saw - I hadn't thought there was much hope left but I was wrong.