[ One thing is how it actually makes him hard again, so quickly after, too, but another is the feeling it stirs in his chest.
Ichigo frowns, staring sideways into Byakuya's face, as he does as he told him to, this man who follows his own principles and convictions to the edge, licking his lips, the spray in his hair, dripping everywhere. Then, expression softening, he nods once, saying nothing, just turning his head slightly to the side and pressing his lips to Byakuya's temple where the other man's hair sticks to him, long tendrils of ink and shadow. Something like that. If you gotta be Shakesperean about it, right? Ichigo can be Shakesperean just fine. He doesn't mind.
Kissing him, he starts jerking him off, steady, even rhythm, but fast-ish, promising him that they're hurdling towards the edge for real now. He hears his own breathing in his ears, like drumming, fast and ragged as well and Ichigo catches the head of Byakuya's cock with his thumb, brushing over it wetly again and again for every downstroke. At the same time, he presses his palm up against his balls, massaging them gently, the pace slower but insistent still. Like both those things, fast and slow, insistent and gentle can actually exist simultaneously between them.
The thought of that... He likes it. Ichigo leans in against him, breathing with him, at the same time, same rhythm, and follows every signal his body gives with the greatest intuition. Care. Lots of care.
After just two... whatever they're gonna call this, dates? He shouldn't care this much, probably, but you can't say that to the guy who fights Hollows off to save people he's known for ten minutes or less. Who'd give his life for anyone he laid eyes on who needed his help.
Byakuya matters even more than that.
So, he just wants to hear him come for him. Inhaling deeply, he speaks in a low, rough voice, but it's not harsh, it's the opposite: ]
Fine. Let me feel you, then.
[ Ichigo asking, this time. Ichigo all but begging. ]
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Ichigo frowns, staring sideways into Byakuya's face, as he does as he told him to, this man who follows his own principles and convictions to the edge, licking his lips, the spray in his hair, dripping everywhere. Then, expression softening, he nods once, saying nothing, just turning his head slightly to the side and pressing his lips to Byakuya's temple where the other man's hair sticks to him, long tendrils of ink and shadow. Something like that. If you gotta be Shakesperean about it, right? Ichigo can be Shakesperean just fine. He doesn't mind.
Kissing him, he starts jerking him off, steady, even rhythm, but fast-ish, promising him that they're hurdling towards the edge for real now. He hears his own breathing in his ears, like drumming, fast and ragged as well and Ichigo catches the head of Byakuya's cock with his thumb, brushing over it wetly again and again for every downstroke. At the same time, he presses his palm up against his balls, massaging them gently, the pace slower but insistent still. Like both those things, fast and slow, insistent and gentle can actually exist simultaneously between them.
The thought of that... He likes it. Ichigo leans in against him, breathing with him, at the same time, same rhythm, and follows every signal his body gives with the greatest intuition. Care. Lots of care.
After just two... whatever they're gonna call this, dates? He shouldn't care this much, probably, but you can't say that to the guy who fights Hollows off to save people he's known for ten minutes or less. Who'd give his life for anyone he laid eyes on who needed his help.
Byakuya matters even more than that.
So, he just wants to hear him come for him. Inhaling deeply, he speaks in a low, rough voice, but it's not harsh, it's the opposite: ]
Fine. Let me feel you, then.
[ Ichigo asking, this time. Ichigo all but begging. ]