[ Ichigo presses down against him for a moment, until he doesn't - instead, he stops himself. Byakuya's quite preoccupied with the feeling of his hands in his hair (gentle, he thinks, in a way that feels oddly grounding) and so, it's a good thing that he tells him to wait, verbally, or he might have missed the signs. Blinking, he glances down at Ichigo's face, pressed in against his shoulder, the blush climbing up his cheeks and down his throat very noticeable against his pale skin. He sounds embarrassed.
The thought makes something within his chest soften, the urgency giving way momentarily to something slower. With a small huff of breath, he leans in again, lips brushing the nape of his neck and slipping through the strands of his hair. He remembers for the first time tonight that Ichigo is quite young, not just young in terms of human years but in terms of being a man, too. Of what it entails for most, if not all (the fact is, becoming a captain in the Gotei 13 immediately annuls nearly all chances of an active sex life - or it used to, anyway, before the last war; their current Captain-Commander runs them all at a different pace, for better and for worse).
But of course, Ichigo has been fighting wars for the past many years and when you fight wars the way he does, the way they've all had to, other things are naturally pushed into the background. Not a big loss when you have hundreds upon hundreds of years to enjoy the peace times when they come - provided, of course, that they don't just make you restless.
In terms of a human life, the math is altogether different. ]
Then take them off.
[ He runs his other hand down Ichigo's side, grasping the hem of his underwear and pushing at them, perhaps a little bit impatiently. Whenever he moves, he can feel him against his body, his scent imprinting itself upon his senses more and more, for every minute that passes. He wants more of it, all of it, now that they've both decided to run the risks. To do so together, something that used to be a foreign concept back in the day - before Ichigo came along, actually, and changed the rules for all of them. ]
[ Byakuya's lips feel like soft brushes along his neck, through his hair and Ichigo closes his eyes at the feeling of it, of him simply saying to take them off, then, his boxers, so he does, even if the other man has already started in, pushing at the waistband impatiently. Ichigo smiles, loopsided and pushes at Byakuya's hands, meaning mind your own business, raising his head from his shoulder finally to nod down the man's front. ]
You, too. Come on.
[ It's not really that Byakuya needs telling, supposedly they teach you some level of management skills in the Gotei 13, if he doesn't simply leave all the actual work up to Renji, which is sure what it looks like from the outside sometimes, whenever Renji talks about it at their rare meet-ups. Not that Renji means anything along those lines, of course.
Ichigo likes the idea of Byakuya making comfortable like that. however.
For now, he's getting out of his night-trousers as well, and having already pushed his own boxers down and off, kicking them off into the dark on the floor, Ichigo follows his progress with hungry eyes, staring unashamedly at every new inch of skin that is laid bare. His own lower body feels taught and his cock is rock-hard, curving against his abdomen. It occurs to him on an afterthought that's luckily easily forgotten, that his dad's gonna murder them. Ichigo, definitely, for being into men and Byakuya, he's gonna guess, for being the man he's into.
It doesn't matter. Not right now.
Scoffing hard, he inches closer as soon as Byakuya is naked, aligns their bodies again and pushes up against his hip, just as impatiently as Byakuya was before. He catches his mouth again, groaning in against it at the friction.
Blindly, but without fumbling, Ichigo reaches up and, drawing back from the kiss, holding Byakuya's gaze all the while, licks his palm, sucking at his own fingers noisily. Then, he reaches for his cock, fingers skirting down over his stomach as his hand comes down to wrap around the shaft loosely, wetly. ]
[ Ichigo catches his initiative flawlessly, shifting away to undress and leaving him to do the same. As always with him, there's such a thing as too slow and even Byakuya's growing impatience can't quite keep up with his responses. Taking a deep breath, he takes off his night clothes and lies back down, getting absolutely no seconds to ponder anything at all before Ichigo's closing the distance and pushing up against him. He folds his arm around his side, pulling him in, though his mind has started circling itself, thoughts whirling as he tries to take in the multitudes of this situation; the distress that lead to it, the fact that Ichigo is naked and so is he, the prospects of what they're about to do -
Then, Ichigo licks his own hand quite vigorously and all he can think about is how hard his own cock is, the heat seemingly trapped between his legs. It aches in a lovely way and he'd like to focus on it, on the feel of it but there's simply... oh. Before his mind can slide back into the well of emotion currently threatening to drown out everything else, Ichigo reaches down and folds his fingers around his cock.
Briefly, he can do nothing but blink uselessly up at the ceiling, his hand tightening almost violently against Ichigo's hip. His other hand, he realises belatedly, is grasping the sheets so hard it's trembling. The sudden sense of friction feels stark, like a gust of wind on an icy winter's day. A small part of him wants to shy away from it whilst the rest...
He tries to breathe. Manages it, after two failed attempts. ]
It's - yes.
[ It is fine. But it's also a lot. He doesn't know how to properly describe it so instead of speaking words that won't be sensible in any case, he pulls Ichigo closer, pulls him down towards himself, not to kiss him but to hold him close, his arm curving over his shoulder harshly. Like this, he can press his forehead against his shoulder, mirroring what Ichigo did moments earlier when he'd woken from his nightmare and pressed in against him. He buys himself moments in the darkness behind his eyelids to catch up to his body, his hips jerking very slightly into Ichigo's grip entirely by their own accords.
The resultant slide around his length makes his next breath tumble out of his mouth. ]
[ Ichigo isn't like those jerks who dominate and assault people weaker than themselves, women, children, he hates people like that and would gladly cut down every single one of them, if it took him his whole life, right? He listens and he watches, and you don't need a degree in anything to conclude from Byakuya's broken reply, the way he pulls Ichigo closer and buries his face near his shoulder, that he's falling behind and fast. And since it would be unfair to expect someone who can't run any further to speed up, Ichigo slows down instead, loosening his grip on the other man's cock just slightly, making it more of a soft hold, soft glide, patient, slow. He keeps it simple, but he also keeps it up. Byakuya is slowing down, but he isn't drawing to a halt, there's a difference and it matters.
Leaning in, he kisses the exposed column of Byakuya's neck, where his hair isn't obscuring everything, long, inky trails of black falling around his head, shoulders. He holds him close with his free arm, rubs his skin like he would a scared kid. He gets it, okay. He really does. ]
You know who the first guy was I jerked off to? [ He keeps up the slower pace of his hand, but doesn't remove it. It wasn't Chad, the Chad-thing came after, while the Quincy War raged and he was struggling to save any of the others. No, the only time Ichigo ever had time to jerk off to the thought of any guys was while he was powerless and on his own. Life's weird that way. ] It was you. I was freakin' mortified, Byakuya, when I ran into you later. [ A long silence. His breathing comes out in quick, harsh puffs of air. ] At least this? We're doing this together.
[ He's reminding himself of the speech he held for the other man many years ago, after saving Rukia, during their fight, then, about little sisters and big brothers and in the same way, he's giving out a piece of himself now to try and touch a piece of Byakuya. Feels fitting. Feels full-circle. Ichigo draws in a deep, hard breath, his cock jerking between his legs, because the air comes loaded with musk and sweat and precum.
Byakuya's scent. ]
I'm glad it turned out to be you in the end. The first time.
[ Oh. He stays as he is, quiet for a long moment, whilst Ichigo's hand on his cock slows, not entirely but enough. It should be mortifying, this entire situation - clinging to him like sex is somehow new when it isn't (except like this, it is, he's been with one person in his life before and then, for such a long time, there was silence). Thanks to his enemy, however, Byakuya came out of the war with a lot less habitual pride. It's hard to feel anything like that, anything so grand as pride, when you've seen your own innards strewn before your feet and felt your entire world collapse like a curtain, falling. Instead, what he feels now is more along the lines of resignation. Ichigo, of course, slows down to accommodate him and he, in turn, must bear the implications of that. That sometimes, despite all privilege, somehow you are simply less than you want to be.
Ichigo, of course, knows. He's been brought low many, many times yet somehow, he's emerged stronger from it and that's what Byakuya takes now, too. That thought. He shifts, listening to the other man's words as they fall across his ears in hot puffs of air and then, when he's finished talking, he frees one hand in turn and leans back down against the bed, enough to look Ichigo squarely in the eyes. He focuses on keeping his voice even, every stroke of Ichigo's hand making his body feel tight and overheated. ]
I have thought about you in other ways.
[ He frees his hand and pointedly spits in his palm, twice for good measure. The sound is loud between them against the backdrop of quiet in the hotel room. Shifting just enough to make room for himself, he reaches down between their bodies and folds his slick fingers around Ichigo's cock, hard and hot against his palm. He gives it a slow stroke, mirroring what Ichigo's doing to him. He's barely even touched himself for decades, he will have to relearn what it takes. ]
I could see you, through the rain. Your spiritual pressure. [ His breath does catch on his next inhalation and his next words are full of air, his voice thinner than usual: ] I'm sorry you can't see what I saw - I hadn't thought there was much hope left but I was wrong.
[ Ichigo isn't used to having the time to waste on this kind of softness, despite having made way for it before, forcibly, even though you'd think having to clear a road by violence annuls softness on its own, right? Nothing is annulled here. As if grateful for the time Ichigo is affording him, Byakuya eventually kicks back into action, leaning back againt the mattress and staring straight up into Ichigo's face at his admittance.
I have thought about you in other ways, he says and it occurs to Ichigo, then, that maybe, between them, Byakuya is even newer to the whole sleeping with another man thing. He was married to Hisana-san before. Then, he was grieving.
And Ichigo knows how grief can work, sometimes.
His expression softens and he keeps up the steady movement of his hand in response, because he likes the way it adds taughtness and a hitch to Byakuya's voice. Never heard him sound that way before, did he? Never heard him say anything like what he's telling him now. Not even when he was dying. He said he was ashamed.
Now, he says he was hopeful.
Ichigo's stomach clenches and he watches, wide-eyed, as the other man reaches up his hand and spits in his palm, twice, the sound each time making his cock feel wet at the tip and throbbing. Then, he reaches back down and folds his fingers around Ichigo's cock, the slickness and heat of his fingers actually making Ichigo's toes curl. He grunts, feels his hips push into it, desperately. Hungrily.
Something inside him softened beyond words, Ichigo licks his lips and lifts his chin, staring into Byakuya's calm eyes and he almost can't take it, it's almost too much and with everything Ichigo has survived at this point? Byakuya should get a freakin' medal.
With a groan, he pushes in against the other man and takes his mouth again, kissing him wetly, open-mouthed, tongue, wanting. On Byakuya's cock, his hand speeds up slightly again, though there's none of the almost harsh forward motion that characterised his initial approach.
[ Though he doesn't reply in words, Ichigo's face - his eyes - say much by themselves and Byakuya wonders fleeting what he would have seen back then, if he'd been able to see enough to make out his features. As it is, he looks at him now instead, at the way his eyes soften, his expression wide-eyed, a newness to it that doesn't have anything to do with youth. He's beautiful, he realises, and although that's a very new realisation, it doesn't come as any grand surprise. Perhaps a part of him has always known, deep down and buried beneath layers of grief and all the lonely rituals associated with it, that he didn't mind. Looking at him.
So he looks now, too, though his eyes fall shut when Ichigo closes the distance between them once more and kisses him, roughly, his tongue filling his mouth with that same, undeniable insistence that Ichigo seems to have in most aspects of life. Iron will, determination. He sighs into the kiss and reaches for Ichigo's hair, fingers curling within it, gently at first, then a little harsher as the heat in his balls and abdomen grow stronger. He groans into Ichigo's mouth and tightens his grip, holding his head still and angling it slightly to the side. Like that, he slips his tongue into his mouth, taking up space and tasting him in turn.
When Ichigo speeds up his strokes, he mirrors him again, following suit. On his next upstroke, he pushes his palm over the head of his cock, rubbing the slit and feeling the wetness there, his own cock leaking in response. Gasping, he pushes into Ichigo's grip and keeps his own hand going steadfastly, barely even thinking about it now, pleasure building in his body and overriding most other impressions.
He realises he's heading towards his climax with an almost distant sense of wonder. If this is a dream, he thinks, he'll gladly exchange it for the dreams he tends to have now, by himself when Senbonzakura is restless; even if it means he'll wake up to nothing. Even then, he would still... He breaks the kiss and pushes his face back against Ichigo's shoulder, brow furrowed, as he pushes himself towards the edge, pulling Ichigo along with him. ]
[ While they kiss, Ichigo follows the veins along the underside of Byakuya's cock with his slickened thumb, the wetness making the glide easy and smooth. Just feeling him this way, knowing that... this is Byakuya's cock. This is a part of him Ichigo is allowed to touch... He breathes out raggedly in against his lips, opening up and taking Byakuya's tongue in turn when it's offered him, pushing past his lips and filling his mouth. He feels overwhelmed by all that proximity. Not too much, just... a lot, right? It's a lot.
Then, Byakuya slicks up the head of his cock by running his palm over it on the next upstroke, and Ichigo pulls out of the kiss to moan, his voice hoarse, broken, his hips urging forward into the feeling of his hand. The slit... Shit... Ichigo feels more than sees Byakuya leaning his head against his shoulder, burying his face into him and shakily, with his non-working hand, keeping up with his other, mirroring Byakuya now, too, rubbing at the head with the same smooth, easy glide, Ichigo folds his arm around his neck, holding him close.
It's good. Being touched like this... is good, but the implications are better, that he isn't alone, that this is something he can do with someone, and not just anyone either. Byakuya.
His balls are drawing up and for a moment, he feels like he's floating mid-step, then Ichigo feels his orgasm wash over him, like a wave, big, tsunami-like, and he bends his neck to press his face into the side of Byakuya's head, groaning loudly as he spends himself in his grip, hips working against his hand, his touch. His hair is so stupidly soft. It smells like him, his scent with sweat and everything hanging in Ichigo's nostrils. His cock is pulsing, spewing cum everywhere, leaving him to feel wrought inside and out.
Give him a break. This is the first time with someone else... His body is shaking from the outlet. There's a moment when he doesn't think there'll be anything left afterwards.
Though, he knows, of course there will. He'll make sure there is. There has to be. ]
[ Ichigo's reaction gives him away moments before his climax does - the sound of his moan, hoarse and ragged, pushes Byakuya right past the edge as well and he comes perhaps half a breath after Ichigo. The intensity of it takes him by surprise - Ichigo's cradling him against his shoulder and though he ought to be ashamed of that too, of what it might mean that he likes it, that he wants it this way, all he can really think is that it's a relief. Ichigo's strength is quite incomparable. Not simply his powers, no, it's just the way he is. And right now, Byakuya leans into him, he allows himself that weakness. He lets his orgasm wash over him, his breath a stuttering, pitiful thing against Ichigo's skin.
Ichigo, meanwhile, is loud when he comes. Of course he is. He's loud everywhere, perhaps except in the intermissions, those particular movements between times and places that make you vulnerable in a very different way. Byakuya is staring to understand that about him. He's noisy and overbearing, yes, but he is also painfully, achingly silent. Right now, he's groaning loudly next to Byakuya's ear, in his hair, spending himself all over his knuckles. Byakuya, in turn, comes in spurts against Ichigo's abdomen. They can mess each other up just fine, of course, hasn't it always been like that?
As he lies there, his body feeling feather-light and untouchable, he pulls Ichigo down against him and runs his hand soothingly down his back, over his hip and waist. He's shaking, enough that it's noticeable. Very belatedly, Byakuya wonders whether this might have been Ichigo's first time - it seems implausible but then again, this man does firsts in peculiar ways. In heartstopping, impossible ways.
So Byakuya holds him close and keeps his mind open. ]
[ It doesn't help - or maybe it does - that Byakuya comes in the next moment, spurting all over Ichigo's stomach, the whole sensation of it so intense, kinda lewd too and yet not, Ichigo honestly can't think straight for it, not for a while. He only grudgingly releases the other man's cock, once he stops moving against him, reaching behind himself blindly to wipe his hand on the sheets before inching in against Byakuya's front again, forcing them chest to chest once more, face to face. He stares into Byakuya's open, post-orgasmic features, mouth opening, then closing again and he's about to tell him, this was the first time and then decides not to. It doesn't matter.
Instead he pulls Byakuya closer by his neck, arm wrapped around the back of it, good hold, difficult to wrestle free off, except he'd let Byakuya go if he wanted to, he isn't like the bullies and psychos that Ichigo fights still, even now, when the opportunity shows itself. He's nothing like that. Breath still tumbling out of him, he pushes his forehead against Byakuya's forehead, getting his bangs in his face and really not minding much, and lies like that for a moment, quietly.
Then, he says: ]
Don't say anything. Just go to sleep. [ He closes his own eyes. His voice is hoarse and sounds weirdly abused. Besides, he's not sure who he's talking to, Byakuya or himself. ] We can talk later.
[ And so, he holds him, just like that.
It doesn't even have to be tomorrow. It's more of a general reassurance, a promise. Ichigo only makes those when he knows he can keep them, when not making them would be a greater crime than struggling to live up to your word, but this feels like one of those times. Like in front of his mom's grave, back then. Or in front of her flowers in the Kuchiki garden. It means, we'll talk when you're ready, because I'll be ready when you are. ]
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saviorcomplexed) wrote2025-03-17 12:16 pm
no subject
The thought makes something within his chest soften, the urgency giving way momentarily to something slower. With a small huff of breath, he leans in again, lips brushing the nape of his neck and slipping through the strands of his hair. He remembers for the first time tonight that Ichigo is quite young, not just young in terms of human years but in terms of being a man, too. Of what it entails for most, if not all (the fact is, becoming a captain in the Gotei 13 immediately annuls nearly all chances of an active sex life - or it used to, anyway, before the last war; their current Captain-Commander runs them all at a different pace, for better and for worse).
But of course, Ichigo has been fighting wars for the past many years and when you fight wars the way he does, the way they've all had to, other things are naturally pushed into the background. Not a big loss when you have hundreds upon hundreds of years to enjoy the peace times when they come - provided, of course, that they don't just make you restless.
In terms of a human life, the math is altogether different. ]
Then take them off.
[ He runs his other hand down Ichigo's side, grasping the hem of his underwear and pushing at them, perhaps a little bit impatiently. Whenever he moves, he can feel him against his body, his scent imprinting itself upon his senses more and more, for every minute that passes. He wants more of it, all of it, now that they've both decided to run the risks. To do so together, something that used to be a foreign concept back in the day - before Ichigo came along, actually, and changed the rules for all of them. ]
no subject
You, too. Come on.
[ It's not really that Byakuya needs telling, supposedly they teach you some level of management skills in the Gotei 13, if he doesn't simply leave all the actual work up to Renji, which is sure what it looks like from the outside sometimes, whenever Renji talks about it at their rare meet-ups. Not that Renji means anything along those lines, of course.
Ichigo likes the idea of Byakuya making comfortable like that. however.
For now, he's getting out of his night-trousers as well, and having already pushed his own boxers down and off, kicking them off into the dark on the floor, Ichigo follows his progress with hungry eyes, staring unashamedly at every new inch of skin that is laid bare. His own lower body feels taught and his cock is rock-hard, curving against his abdomen. It occurs to him on an afterthought that's luckily easily forgotten, that his dad's gonna murder them. Ichigo, definitely, for being into men and Byakuya, he's gonna guess, for being the man he's into.
It doesn't matter. Not right now.
Scoffing hard, he inches closer as soon as Byakuya is naked, aligns their bodies again and pushes up against his hip, just as impatiently as Byakuya was before. He catches his mouth again, groaning in against it at the friction.
Blindly, but without fumbling, Ichigo reaches up and, drawing back from the kiss, holding Byakuya's gaze all the while, licks his palm, sucking at his own fingers noisily. Then, he reaches for his cock, fingers skirting down over his stomach as his hand comes down to wrap around the shaft loosely, wetly. ]
That all right? Byakuya.
[ Ichigo did say, he wanted to feel him. ]
no subject
Then, Ichigo licks his own hand quite vigorously and all he can think about is how hard his own cock is, the heat seemingly trapped between his legs. It aches in a lovely way and he'd like to focus on it, on the feel of it but there's simply... oh. Before his mind can slide back into the well of emotion currently threatening to drown out everything else, Ichigo reaches down and folds his fingers around his cock.
Briefly, he can do nothing but blink uselessly up at the ceiling, his hand tightening almost violently against Ichigo's hip. His other hand, he realises belatedly, is grasping the sheets so hard it's trembling. The sudden sense of friction feels stark, like a gust of wind on an icy winter's day. A small part of him wants to shy away from it whilst the rest...
He tries to breathe. Manages it, after two failed attempts. ]
It's - yes.
[ It is fine. But it's also a lot. He doesn't know how to properly describe it so instead of speaking words that won't be sensible in any case, he pulls Ichigo closer, pulls him down towards himself, not to kiss him but to hold him close, his arm curving over his shoulder harshly. Like this, he can press his forehead against his shoulder, mirroring what Ichigo did moments earlier when he'd woken from his nightmare and pressed in against him. He buys himself moments in the darkness behind his eyelids to catch up to his body, his hips jerking very slightly into Ichigo's grip entirely by their own accords.
The resultant slide around his length makes his next breath tumble out of his mouth. ]
no subject
Leaning in, he kisses the exposed column of Byakuya's neck, where his hair isn't obscuring everything, long, inky trails of black falling around his head, shoulders. He holds him close with his free arm, rubs his skin like he would a scared kid. He gets it, okay. He really does. ]
You know who the first guy was I jerked off to? [ He keeps up the slower pace of his hand, but doesn't remove it. It wasn't Chad, the Chad-thing came after, while the Quincy War raged and he was struggling to save any of the others. No, the only time Ichigo ever had time to jerk off to the thought of any guys was while he was powerless and on his own. Life's weird that way. ] It was you. I was freakin' mortified, Byakuya, when I ran into you later. [ A long silence. His breathing comes out in quick, harsh puffs of air. ] At least this? We're doing this together.
[ He's reminding himself of the speech he held for the other man many years ago, after saving Rukia, during their fight, then, about little sisters and big brothers and in the same way, he's giving out a piece of himself now to try and touch a piece of Byakuya. Feels fitting. Feels full-circle. Ichigo draws in a deep, hard breath, his cock jerking between his legs, because the air comes loaded with musk and sweat and precum.
Byakuya's scent. ]
I'm glad it turned out to be you in the end. The first time.
no subject
Ichigo, of course, knows. He's been brought low many, many times yet somehow, he's emerged stronger from it and that's what Byakuya takes now, too. That thought. He shifts, listening to the other man's words as they fall across his ears in hot puffs of air and then, when he's finished talking, he frees one hand in turn and leans back down against the bed, enough to look Ichigo squarely in the eyes. He focuses on keeping his voice even, every stroke of Ichigo's hand making his body feel tight and overheated. ]
I have thought about you in other ways.
[ He frees his hand and pointedly spits in his palm, twice for good measure. The sound is loud between them against the backdrop of quiet in the hotel room. Shifting just enough to make room for himself, he reaches down between their bodies and folds his slick fingers around Ichigo's cock, hard and hot against his palm. He gives it a slow stroke, mirroring what Ichigo's doing to him. He's barely even touched himself for decades, he will have to relearn what it takes. ]
I could see you, through the rain. Your spiritual pressure. [ His breath does catch on his next inhalation and his next words are full of air, his voice thinner than usual: ] I'm sorry you can't see what I saw - I hadn't thought there was much hope left but I was wrong.
no subject
I have thought about you in other ways, he says and it occurs to Ichigo, then, that maybe, between them, Byakuya is even newer to the whole sleeping with another man thing. He was married to Hisana-san before. Then, he was grieving.
And Ichigo knows how grief can work, sometimes.
His expression softens and he keeps up the steady movement of his hand in response, because he likes the way it adds taughtness and a hitch to Byakuya's voice. Never heard him sound that way before, did he? Never heard him say anything like what he's telling him now. Not even when he was dying. He said he was ashamed.
Now, he says he was hopeful.
Ichigo's stomach clenches and he watches, wide-eyed, as the other man reaches up his hand and spits in his palm, twice, the sound each time making his cock feel wet at the tip and throbbing. Then, he reaches back down and folds his fingers around Ichigo's cock, the slickness and heat of his fingers actually making Ichigo's toes curl. He grunts, feels his hips push into it, desperately. Hungrily.
Something inside him softened beyond words, Ichigo licks his lips and lifts his chin, staring into Byakuya's calm eyes and he almost can't take it, it's almost too much and with everything Ichigo has survived at this point? Byakuya should get a freakin' medal.
With a groan, he pushes in against the other man and takes his mouth again, kissing him wetly, open-mouthed, tongue, wanting. On Byakuya's cock, his hand speeds up slightly again, though there's none of the almost harsh forward motion that characterised his initial approach.
Ichigo is a fast learner. ]
no subject
So he looks now, too, though his eyes fall shut when Ichigo closes the distance between them once more and kisses him, roughly, his tongue filling his mouth with that same, undeniable insistence that Ichigo seems to have in most aspects of life. Iron will, determination. He sighs into the kiss and reaches for Ichigo's hair, fingers curling within it, gently at first, then a little harsher as the heat in his balls and abdomen grow stronger. He groans into Ichigo's mouth and tightens his grip, holding his head still and angling it slightly to the side. Like that, he slips his tongue into his mouth, taking up space and tasting him in turn.
When Ichigo speeds up his strokes, he mirrors him again, following suit. On his next upstroke, he pushes his palm over the head of his cock, rubbing the slit and feeling the wetness there, his own cock leaking in response. Gasping, he pushes into Ichigo's grip and keeps his own hand going steadfastly, barely even thinking about it now, pleasure building in his body and overriding most other impressions.
He realises he's heading towards his climax with an almost distant sense of wonder. If this is a dream, he thinks, he'll gladly exchange it for the dreams he tends to have now, by himself when Senbonzakura is restless; even if it means he'll wake up to nothing. Even then, he would still... He breaks the kiss and pushes his face back against Ichigo's shoulder, brow furrowed, as he pushes himself towards the edge, pulling Ichigo along with him. ]
no subject
Then, Byakuya slicks up the head of his cock by running his palm over it on the next upstroke, and Ichigo pulls out of the kiss to moan, his voice hoarse, broken, his hips urging forward into the feeling of his hand. The slit... Shit... Ichigo feels more than sees Byakuya leaning his head against his shoulder, burying his face into him and shakily, with his non-working hand, keeping up with his other, mirroring Byakuya now, too, rubbing at the head with the same smooth, easy glide, Ichigo folds his arm around his neck, holding him close.
It's good. Being touched like this... is good, but the implications are better, that he isn't alone, that this is something he can do with someone, and not just anyone either. Byakuya.
His balls are drawing up and for a moment, he feels like he's floating mid-step, then Ichigo feels his orgasm wash over him, like a wave, big, tsunami-like, and he bends his neck to press his face into the side of Byakuya's head, groaning loudly as he spends himself in his grip, hips working against his hand, his touch. His hair is so stupidly soft. It smells like him, his scent with sweat and everything hanging in Ichigo's nostrils. His cock is pulsing, spewing cum everywhere, leaving him to feel wrought inside and out.
Give him a break. This is the first time with someone else... His body is shaking from the outlet. There's a moment when he doesn't think there'll be anything left afterwards.
Though, he knows, of course there will. He'll make sure there is. There has to be. ]
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Ichigo, meanwhile, is loud when he comes. Of course he is. He's loud everywhere, perhaps except in the intermissions, those particular movements between times and places that make you vulnerable in a very different way. Byakuya is staring to understand that about him. He's noisy and overbearing, yes, but he is also painfully, achingly silent. Right now, he's groaning loudly next to Byakuya's ear, in his hair, spending himself all over his knuckles. Byakuya, in turn, comes in spurts against Ichigo's abdomen. They can mess each other up just fine, of course, hasn't it always been like that?
As he lies there, his body feeling feather-light and untouchable, he pulls Ichigo down against him and runs his hand soothingly down his back, over his hip and waist. He's shaking, enough that it's noticeable. Very belatedly, Byakuya wonders whether this might have been Ichigo's first time - it seems implausible but then again, this man does firsts in peculiar ways. In heartstopping, impossible ways.
So Byakuya holds him close and keeps his mind open. ]
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Instead he pulls Byakuya closer by his neck, arm wrapped around the back of it, good hold, difficult to wrestle free off, except he'd let Byakuya go if he wanted to, he isn't like the bullies and psychos that Ichigo fights still, even now, when the opportunity shows itself. He's nothing like that. Breath still tumbling out of him, he pushes his forehead against Byakuya's forehead, getting his bangs in his face and really not minding much, and lies like that for a moment, quietly.
Then, he says: ]
Don't say anything. Just go to sleep. [ He closes his own eyes. His voice is hoarse and sounds weirdly abused. Besides, he's not sure who he's talking to, Byakuya or himself. ] We can talk later.
[ And so, he holds him, just like that.
It doesn't even have to be tomorrow. It's more of a general reassurance, a promise. Ichigo only makes those when he knows he can keep them, when not making them would be a greater crime than struggling to live up to your word, but this feels like one of those times. Like in front of his mom's grave, back then. Or in front of her flowers in the Kuchiki garden. It means, we'll talk when you're ready, because I'll be ready when you are. ]