[ Ichigo proceeds to... he doesn't actually know what word to use. He's seen the crude terminology whilst doing a small bit of... research, back in his own world but so far, he's come across mostly various semi-creative ways of going back and forth for a while until completion. This is not like that at all. He swallows heavily, watching, feeling completely captivated by the sight and sounds of him - Ichigo, loud as he is, moaning as he sucks on the head of his cock (oh), filling up his own mouth and drawing back, giving him a sense of friction though it doesn't feel at all like fucking. He doesn't know...
It feels like carefulness.
Breath coming out steadfastly more like a pant, not as loud as Ichigo but nowhere near silent, either, Byakuya shifts against the wall, lets the pleasure shooting into his groin spread until his muscles feel weak and his knees are on the verge of buckling pitifully. He keeps one hand curled in Ichigo's hair, his fingers clenching now and then when something feels particularly good. His cock is so hard, it's almost uncomfortable. ]
Don't - don't stop.
[ Ridiculous. He doesn't stutter. But certainly, that's exactly what he just heard himself do and he'd be mortified if he weren't busy feeling the tightness in his balls growing progressively more acute. He breathes harshly, running his other hand down Ichigo's face, grasping onto the hood of his shirt, the neck.
A thought occurs to him and he adds, swallowing down another moan before it can embarrass him properly: ]
Just - a moment more, if you -
[ He doesn't know how to finish the sentence and thus, he gives up immediately. At this very moment, his cock and Ichigo's mouth definitely takes up such a large percentage of his awareness that he's fairly certain trying to string any further words together would only make him less intelligible. His head thuds back hard against the door. Eyes falling shut, he can feel himself pushing forward very, very slightly, trying to follow the movement of Ichigo's mouth - and oh, yes, there's the in and out, isn't it. It's been a while. He's managed to forget how these things work (which is, admittedly, easier than simply pretending not to want it for decades). ]
no subject
It feels like carefulness.
Breath coming out steadfastly more like a pant, not as loud as Ichigo but nowhere near silent, either, Byakuya shifts against the wall, lets the pleasure shooting into his groin spread until his muscles feel weak and his knees are on the verge of buckling pitifully. He keeps one hand curled in Ichigo's hair, his fingers clenching now and then when something feels particularly good. His cock is so hard, it's almost uncomfortable. ]
Don't - don't stop.
[ Ridiculous. He doesn't stutter. But certainly, that's exactly what he just heard himself do and he'd be mortified if he weren't busy feeling the tightness in his balls growing progressively more acute. He breathes harshly, running his other hand down Ichigo's face, grasping onto the hood of his shirt, the neck.
A thought occurs to him and he adds, swallowing down another moan before it can embarrass him properly: ]
Just - a moment more, if you -
[ He doesn't know how to finish the sentence and thus, he gives up immediately. At this very moment, his cock and Ichigo's mouth definitely takes up such a large percentage of his awareness that he's fairly certain trying to string any further words together would only make him less intelligible. His head thuds back hard against the door. Eyes falling shut, he can feel himself pushing forward very, very slightly, trying to follow the movement of Ichigo's mouth - and oh, yes, there's the in and out, isn't it. It's been a while. He's managed to forget how these things work (which is, admittedly, easier than simply pretending not to want it for decades). ]