[ Is that all he's got to say? Drop these and... Ichigo scoffs and follows him with his gaze, as Byakuya walks back to the bed and proceeds to lie down, to watch, to wait for Ichigo to get naked, currently standing with his pants half off and his cock out, the shadow of Byakuya's touch clinging to his skin, his hips, waist, thighs, buttocks. He's touched him everywhere important. He's touched him...
Holding the other man's gaze, still tasting him starkly on his lips and tongue, not helping that Byakuya just freakin' licked his lower lip free of cum, Ichigo takes a deep breath and does as he's told, maybe for the first time ever. Most people can't get him to do so, even when his grades or a scuffle with his dad is at stake, but then again - most people don't get close enough either, to kiss the side of his mouth.
So, he pries off his jeans and leaves them to crumble on the floor. After that, his boxers, already half-off. Freed, like that, he stands for a moment before Byakuya's attentive eyes and shit, isn't his worse than wielding your bankai, isn't this showing more of yourself.
At least with his bankai, at least he knows there's a fair chance he's gonna win.
This isn't about winning, though.
Maybe that's the problem.
Squaring his shoulders, Ichigo walks over to the bed and crawls onto it, sitting down cross-legged and terribly hard next to Byakuya's reclining figure, looking down at him, hands loosely resting on his thighs. ]
no subject
Holding the other man's gaze, still tasting him starkly on his lips and tongue, not helping that Byakuya just freakin' licked his lower lip free of cum, Ichigo takes a deep breath and does as he's told, maybe for the first time ever. Most people can't get him to do so, even when his grades or a scuffle with his dad is at stake, but then again - most people don't get close enough either, to kiss the side of his mouth.
So, he pries off his jeans and leaves them to crumble on the floor. After that, his boxers, already half-off. Freed, like that, he stands for a moment before Byakuya's attentive eyes and shit, isn't his worse than wielding your bankai, isn't this showing more of yourself.
At least with his bankai, at least he knows there's a fair chance he's gonna win.
This isn't about winning, though.
Maybe that's the problem.
Squaring his shoulders, Ichigo walks over to the bed and crawls onto it, sitting down cross-legged and terribly hard next to Byakuya's reclining figure, looking down at him, hands loosely resting on his thighs. ]
I dropped them. What're you gonna do about it?