[ Byakuya doesn't answer, at least not in words. Instead he pushes his forehead against Ichigo's belly, jerking himself off in a few, hard strokes and Ichigo almost aches listening to it, the sound of it, the slight motion of his arm moving, his breathing harsh and shallow against Ichigo's skin. Next time, he thinks, not even questioning whether there'll be a next time, they both decided, right? They've both chosen to be here, in this hotel. Next time, let me be the one to do that to you, okay? Still, he doesn't say anything, just keeps soothingly stroking Byakuya's hair, long, heavy touches of his fingers. Ichigo hears himself breathing in and out in time with Byakuya, once he's coming down from his (second) orgasm, staying ahead, huh?
Staying ahead.
Finally, his hand falls away, landing heavily on Byakuya's shoulder, covered in more strands of long, inky black hair. They draw lines against the paleness of his skin. Ichigo brushes them aside, brushes his fingertips over his shoulder blade, following the shape of it. Caresses him like that.
He thinks about the classes he should be attending now and knows he's learned a lot more already than any of that crap could've taught him anyway. Just a different teacher. Making an outdrawn sound, more scoff than sigh, he stretches languidly and in the end, lets his hand fall away from Byakuya's back as well. ]
Should I start calling you sensei? That where we're at? [ Gently reaching up and supporting Byakuya with a hand to his cheek as he himself starts to sit up, making sure the other man stays comfortable against his stomach, Ichigo looks down at him, lips pursed from his seated position. He's kidding, of course.
He'd never call him sensei. ] Take over a few more of my classes and I'd feel obliged, you know.
[ Rolling one shoulder slightly, he ends up leaning back on his hands against the mattress, arms holding him up easily. Him and Byakuya. -sensei. Ichigo smiles lightly. It's good-humoured. There was one point where he didn't think Byakuya deserved an homorific, then a point when he felt they were equal enough he didn't need it and now, that he'd be ready to give him one, they're too close for it.
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Staying ahead.
Finally, his hand falls away, landing heavily on Byakuya's shoulder, covered in more strands of long, inky black hair. They draw lines against the paleness of his skin. Ichigo brushes them aside, brushes his fingertips over his shoulder blade, following the shape of it. Caresses him like that.
He thinks about the classes he should be attending now and knows he's learned a lot more already than any of that crap could've taught him anyway. Just a different teacher. Making an outdrawn sound, more scoff than sigh, he stretches languidly and in the end, lets his hand fall away from Byakuya's back as well. ]
Should I start calling you sensei? That where we're at? [ Gently reaching up and supporting Byakuya with a hand to his cheek as he himself starts to sit up, making sure the other man stays comfortable against his stomach, Ichigo looks down at him, lips pursed from his seated position. He's kidding, of course.
He'd never call him sensei. ] Take over a few more of my classes and I'd feel obliged, you know.
[ Rolling one shoulder slightly, he ends up leaning back on his hands against the mattress, arms holding him up easily. Him and Byakuya. -sensei. Ichigo smiles lightly. It's good-humoured. There was one point where he didn't think Byakuya deserved an homorific, then a point when he felt they were equal enough he didn't need it and now, that he'd be ready to give him one, they're too close for it.
The distance it would put in between them. So. ]
Byakuya.
[ He just says. ]