[ Ichigo drops the rest of his clothes and joins him, squaring his shoulders on the way. This, naturally, makes his shoulders and upperarms tense and so, Byakuya takes the opportunity to properly take in the shape of the other man's body when he isn't actively running at him or someone else with his sword drawn.
Well. Not that sword, in any case.
It's difficult not to notice, of course, that Ichigo is built like a man who fights hand to hand before anything else; undoubtedly, before he became a Substitute Shinigami, he must have had decent fighting experience or he wouldn't have handled himself against Renji as he did, back in the day. Thus, he's not necessarily... surprised at his own reaction now, the hunger building rapidly in his body as Ichigo takes his place on the bed, next to him, cross-legged and hard enough to make the movements just a little less fluent than usual.
Certainly, surprise would be the wrong word.
What are you gonna do about it asks Ichigo whose default mode seems to be confrontation, always confrontation, a challenge, perhaps because conflicts and battles have become a type of normal to him and normalcy, of course, brings comfort. Confidence of success, well-earned in his case and consequently, easily channelled. Byakuya's gaze slips up to his eyes, then, and he craws onto his knees, sitting close enough that their legs are touching. He puts both hands on Ichigo's shoulders and nudges him backwards, down. He's not pushing him. They aren't doing that, not here, and they both know it, no matter how easy it is to slip into habit. ]
Such a strange, superfluous question. [ He leans in, kissing his shoulder, then the side of his face. He slips one hand into his hair. ] What do you think I'm going to do?
[ For the sake of emphasis - because Byakuya does surround himself with people who treat subtlety like it's a curse best avoided - he runs his other hand down his side, palm spreading across the hot skin over his ribs.
no subject
Well. Not that sword, in any case.
It's difficult not to notice, of course, that Ichigo is built like a man who fights hand to hand before anything else; undoubtedly, before he became a Substitute Shinigami, he must have had decent fighting experience or he wouldn't have handled himself against Renji as he did, back in the day. Thus, he's not necessarily... surprised at his own reaction now, the hunger building rapidly in his body as Ichigo takes his place on the bed, next to him, cross-legged and hard enough to make the movements just a little less fluent than usual.
Certainly, surprise would be the wrong word.
What are you gonna do about it asks Ichigo whose default mode seems to be confrontation, always confrontation, a challenge, perhaps because conflicts and battles have become a type of normal to him and normalcy, of course, brings comfort. Confidence of success, well-earned in his case and consequently, easily channelled. Byakuya's gaze slips up to his eyes, then, and he craws onto his knees, sitting close enough that their legs are touching. He puts both hands on Ichigo's shoulders and nudges him backwards, down. He's not pushing him. They aren't doing that, not here, and they both know it, no matter how easy it is to slip into habit. ]
Such a strange, superfluous question. [ He leans in, kissing his shoulder, then the side of his face. He slips one hand into his hair. ] What do you think I'm going to do?
[ For the sake of emphasis - because Byakuya does surround himself with people who treat subtlety like it's a curse best avoided - he runs his other hand down his side, palm spreading across the hot skin over his ribs.
Like that, he can feel him breathing. ]