[ When he finally comes, Byakuya grasps the back of Ichigo's head, though not in any way that forces him still, but rather out of desperation and Ichigo feels that feeling reverberating deep within his own body, right, that urge to swallow up, become one with, his own cock in his pants jerking as much as it can when his clothes are in the way.
The way the other man at the same time not only slips in a little bit more, doesn't take or claim, he'd be freakin' rude, too, if he did, but he doesn't, and Ichigo appreciates that. About as much as he appreciates the way he fills his mouth with his cum, hot, long strings of it across his tongue. It takes some effort to swallow right and his lips get sticky from the residual drops, escaping him in the process, but no one can probably tell anyway, since Byakuya, when he pulls out, leaves traces of himself on his lips as well.
Ichigo, looking up at him, feels warm and sticky, smacking his lips a few times before reaching up to wipe at his face, get the worst of it off. He'll remember. He'll remember now.
Beginning to get out of his clothes, Byakuya tells him to please get up now and only a tiny bit hesitantly, Ichigo gets to his feet, waiting a long moment to just watch Byakuya get undressed, feel himself being watched like that. His heart's pounding in his ears and his limbs feel heavy from want, anticipation. Nervousness. Yeah, now that he isn't actively doing anymore, the nervousness can set in. He feels himself blush, just the bridge of his nose and he looks down to begin shrugging out of his open, hooded shirt, even the t-shirt underneath feeling too tight for his chest. He shifts from one foot to the other. ]
You taste nice.
[ He hears himself say and immediately blushes crimson, keeping his gaze firmly locked on his hands, grabbing the hem of his t-shirt now, beginning to pull it over his head.
Blindly, he toes out of his sneakers, socks, simultaneously - and at least his coordination skills aren't suffering from blabbermouth syndrome. Shit. ]
[ As he begins to undress, Byakuya watches all throughout. From the hooded shirt to the t-shirt underneath and then, a slight pause, just to tell him he tastes nice. About to raise one eyebrow in silent acknowledgment - after all, he's planning on finding that out for himself in a moment - he pauses at the sight of Ichigo blushing furiously, gaze on his own hands, not on him. His body language changes then, as it often does - he's a man who speaks very loudly in several ways. Now, as he keeps his gaze down and toes out of his shoes and socks, Ichigo seems... not uncertain, exactly.
Afraid of failure, perhaps.
He is that, too, which is ironic, considering how much he's won on behalf of other people throughout the years. ]
Thank you.
[ He says it quietly, voice straightforward. Keeping things simple. Gaze firmly set on Ichigo's face, he steps forward across the distance between them and folds his hands against his waist, slipping his fingers beneath the hem of his trousers. This close, he can smell himself on Ichigo's breath, on his skin. Beneath that, there's Ichigo's own scent, warm and sharp, strong from arousal. His next inhalation trembles a little as he undoes Ichigo's trousers, pushing them down slightly before slipping both hands inside his boxers, down the sides of his legs. He spreads out his fingers, feeling the hardness of him, of his buttocks and thighs, before reaching inside his boxers and pulling out his cock. He's careful about it. The head is a blushing pink, not unlike his face and neck. It looks quite enticing.
He gives it a light stroke and leans in to mouth along the side of his neck, up to his ear. His voice is low but the heat in his blood has started to creep into it, darkening his tone: ]
Drop these and come join me on the bed.
[ He kisses just the side of his mouth, flicking his tongue out and licking a string of cum off his lower lip. Then, he pulls back, squeezing his hips with both hands and heading for the bed, pulling the covers back and climbing in to wait. He lies down on his side and goes back to watching him. ]
[ 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. ]
[ 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.
[ Byakuya gets up from his reclining position which is a shame, it looked good, but moving over to Ichigo on his knees, he looks even better, so Ichigo isn't about to complain. Instead, he stares up into the other man's face, feeling suddenly very exposed, like he's chosen a bad vantage point in a fight, vulnerable... except this isn't a fight, it's not that at all, even as Byakuya places both his hands on Ichigo's shoulders and starts pushing, not really pushing, but it's the only word that comes to mind, as he urges him backwards. Onto his back. Ichigo could resist. He's definitely strong enough, but he doesn't, instead following Byakuya's lead, lying down, extending out his legs until it's him reclining.
Byakuya kisses his shoulder on the way. His face, the side of it. Ichigo breathes shakily, hardly even blinking as he stares up at him. Byakuya's hand in his hair feels really nice, too. His chest rises and falls beneath his palm.
What do you think I'm going to do? Which is probably the more strange and superfluous question between the two, if you ask Ichigo. At least be articulate about it, say it! He scoffs and turns his head in against the other man's mouth, pointing out: ]
You mean, what do I want you to do, right?
[ It wasn't very clear, really, but Ichigo can read it anyway. He gets it. Byakuya can't just come out and say, say you want me to suck your cock or something. Not his style, though.
He's above that.
Well, Ichigo is on the bottom right now, so supposedly that's his job. Smiling slightly, sharply, he starts out, ]
I... [ Then, he actually hears those words in his own voice in his head and immediately falters, not stuttering, just stopping for a moment, finding the courage. Come on! He's fought wars! He can say it. He can. A deep breath, and he closes his eyes, feeling his chest heave, deep and hard. ] I want you to suck me off. Byakuya.
[ Down he goes, Ichigo, which must feel a bit like jumping into unknown waters. It's easy to read his expression and if it weren't, the lines in his body, the shakiness of his breath and the hesitation in his voice all speak their own language. Please, he doesn't say, except in a way he does and naturally, just that semblance of actual manners must be rewarded. Byakuya nods against the side of his face, leaning in and kissing a heavy, wet trail down his neck and shoulder, shifting in between his legs to get their bodies properly aligned. He runs his hand up Ichigo's body once more, folding his palm against his shoulder, both for the sake of balancing and for that slight emphasis of weight.
On his knees, it's easy to lean in over him, the top of his head grazing Ichigo's chin on the way. He closes his lips around his left nipple and licks at it slowly, circling it with the tip of his tongue. His gaze slips sideways, following the lines of Ichigo's midriff and abdomen down to his cock where it rests against his belly. In a short moment, he'll step into unknown waters as well. His own body still feels heavy and sated from Ichigo's efforts and though a part of him is certainly preoccupied with questions such as how and what is it going to be like?, most of him is just aching to return the favour.
Sex, happily, is more about enthusiasm than skills.
That doesn't mean bad sex isn't disappointing, however.
Frowning slightly, he shifts his focus to Ichigo's other nipple, folding his other hand against his midriff as he leans down and licks at it, using the full width of his tongue this time, the strokes wet enough to leave his skin gleaming. Gently, he eases his thigh further up between Ichigo's legs and presses against his cock, just giving him a hint of friction, something to off-set the slow pace. He's certainly not going to rush himself in this matter, Ichigo will simply have to count slowly to ten or whatever he does to control his impatience. ]
Ichigo feels his chest rise and fall beneath the weight of the other man, the way he leans in and down, giving him his whole front, the impact of body against body. His heart pounding, Ichigo twists slightly beneath him, to be able to twist his own neck and look, staring down just in time to see Byakuya lick at one nipple with just the tip of his tongue. The whole feeling of it is wet and tight, muscle, licks, heavy, oh. Shit. Ichigo gasps and struggles some more against the feeling of his hold, his cock jerking slightly in response. ]
If --
[ Then, Byakuya shifts his attention to Ichigo's other nipple, getting that with the whole breadth of his tongue now, Ichigo staring mesmerized at the difference in colour, his pale skin and his pink tongue, contrasting. Along with the tight pulsing in his whole chest now, his fingers gripping the sheets convulsively. He actually struggles to finish that trail of thought, not to say, the sentence. ]
-- you wanted to tease me, you're... [ A louder gasp this time and he bucks up against Byakuya's thigh, pressing up against Ichigo's cock, the underside feeling hot and sensitive. He grunts and shifts more, almost violently. Impatience riding his whole system, he mostly just wants to push Byakuya's head down, but can't really make himself. It feels wrong, some part of it. To rush it. When he's dreamt about this so much, right? Wouldn't that be to ruin it? ] ... you're doing a good job.
[ It feels nice, he could say, but his mouth feels like it's got a foot in it and it wouldn't cover it all anyway. Wouldn't say nearly enough. Instead, Ichigo reaches down slowly, runs his fingers up along Byakuya's shoulder blades and up the back of his neck, turning his palm up to let his ponytail spill over his fingers. That feels nice, too.
Taking a deep breath, remembering briefly, very briefly, helping out Yuzu when she was a little kid to tie up her hair like this, he loosens Byakuya's long, soft strands from the hold of the hairtie, lets it all fall down around his face. No idea if he even likes that, but Ichigo likes it. Ichigo likes to gather all that hair between his hands, push it out of his way for him.
It's something to do. While he's just lying around here, doing nothing. ]
[ He doesn't smile against Ichigo's skin, though his chest warms in amusement at his words. He isn't truly teasing him, at least not on purpose but just to acknowledge the hypothesis for what it is - understandable and logical, even - he leaves Ichigo's nipple alone and shifts downwards, nibbling his way down his midriff and leaving pink marks in his wake. Ichigo, in turn, has loosened his hair and now, it truly goes everywhere - his shoulders, his chin, his face - in a way that always reminds him of the times he's accidentally kept it too long, leaving it skirting past the safe zone of Senbonzakura and consequently, five inches shorter in the aftermath.
These days, it hardly matters. He could grow it waist-length, basically, with how little he uses Bankai. Glancing up at Ichigo, his chest softening another fraction at how he's clearly trying to keep still beneath him, to let himself receive, he decides that he just might. Grow it out.
Give him something to hold onto. ]
You are doing fine, as well.
[ He speaks against Ichigo's skin, lips sliding over the space between his midriff and his navel, his chin close enough to his cock that he might just touch it if he dips his head. Instead, he shifts down between his legs until he's got his cock more or less in his face, big and hard and beautifully pink at the tip. Swallowing down a moan at the sight alone, he gets comfortable on his elbows, caging Ichigo's hips in along the way and folding his fingers around the base carefully.
Like that, he angles it outwards, tilts his head a little to the side and leans down to lick a wet trail beneath the head, lapping at the shaft afterwards. He tastes like musk and sweat - like sex, basically, but distilled - and the feeling actually makes him hard again. This time, he doesn't hide the moan from the depths of his throat. Instead, he folds his other hand across Ichigo's belly as another weight, not to keep him still but to anchor him. He folds his hand more firmly around his shaft, parts his lips and takes the head into his mouth, letting him take up all the space he needs and breathing slowly out. ]
[ Like he's actually doing what Ichigo's telling him to, and when does that truly ever happen, Byakuya only ever does what he wants - which means, he must be wanting this as well, the other man moves down over his stomach, settling in between his thighs and folding his hands around the base of Ichigo's cock. Ichigo groans, only halfway hearing the other man telling him in return, that he's doing fine. Fine? That's what he's calling this? Fine?
Scoffing slightly, the sound soon morphing into an outdrawn moan as Byakuya proceeds to lick his cock, then suck it, Ichigo writhes helplessly beneath Byakuya's hand across his midriff. It's not a bond or a way to hold him down, it's to provide him some calm, right? Give him a sense of safety. Anyway, it works. Although he's breathing funny, it's mostly because this is the first time someone is putting their mouth to his cock at all, and he didn't know what to expect except pleasure, obviously. Still, it's a warm, deep sensation, the feeling goes beyond just the pleasure shooting into his groin, it's more than that.
It's Ichigo, desperately gripping Byakuya's hair, pushing all those loose bangs out of his face while he opens his mouth to him, Ichigo fighting not to thrust upwards and managing mostly by dumb freakin' luck. There is a sense of push, though, a slight upwards motion. And trembling. Lots of it. Ichigo groans, his head falling back weakly. He pants, turns his head to stare down himself. ]
You're doing better. Always gotta try and outdo me, huh?
[ He doesn't say, maybe this time you'll actually succeed, because he can't even think it, with his cock pushing over Byakuya's tongue like that, but he means it. Not like it matters anyway, Ichigo will - if he's lucky - have plenty of opportunity to refine his skill, learn, teach. They could get to know each other that way, isn't that so? They could share that kind of space, Byakuya and him. Now.
Arching slightly off the mattress, he moans in time with Byakuya himself and the sound of that, their voices together, only makes Ichigo's toes curl more. ]
[ To outdo him? Byakuya responds by raising one eyebrow and looking up at him with his mouth stretched around his cock. If this had been any sort of competition, surely they would have both been aware of it. How very typical of Ichigo, though, trying to turn it into something he might measure himself against. Under other circumstances, he might possibly approve - right here, he strokes his belly briefly before he starts jerking him off sloppily. Then, to follow the motion, he tries experimentally to move his head up and down whilst keeping him in his mouth all throughout and - oh.
Breath stumbling out of him, he groans and does it again.
It gives... the very odd sensation of someone fucking into him and if anyone had asked him a year ago (nevermind the fact that absolutely no one would ever dare), he certainly wouldn't have expected to like it this much. His cock, however, is so appreciative that he has to move his hand from Ichigo's stomach and fold it around himself, squeezing hard just to do something with the aching need currently building in the pit of his belly. He shifts, giving himself a better angle and closes his eyes. Then, he starts moving his head more steadfastly, feeling the glide of Ichigo's cock between his lips as it slips out about halfway and then, back in it goes, far enough that the head pushes hard against the back of his mouth.
Drooling magnificently, he uses the slick to jerk him off more smoothly. Then, though his hand truly isn't wet enough by far, he mirrors the motion with his other hand, his balls so tight that the dryness of his palm makes absolutely no difference to the outcome.
Like that, he pushes them both onwards. He's not trying to rush anything, it just seemingly happens, like somehow there's a current in these strange waters strong enough to pull them both along. ]
[ It's overwhelmingly good. Ichigo's hips are working desperately to get more of it, though Byakuya's doing a fair job, covering all of it, the friction, wet, warm, slick friction and his hand jerking Ichigo's cock off at the base, making up for what he can't reach with his mouth like this. Ichigo's eyes stay tightly shut and his mouth is hanging open as he bolters towards the edge, fast, determined, desperately, running for it. His balls are drawing up and with one hand in the sheets now, the other in Byakuya's hair, more tightly now, grabbing more than smoothening back, he moans again and again, in time with the rush of pleasure surging through him.
It's crazy. He cracks open one eye and chances a glance down at Byakuya who's, besides sucking him off like a freakin' pro, is also palming himself with the same focused, almost serene expression as always and Ichigo can't stand it. The other man's the same as always, but he's also giving Ichigo a blowjob and bringing him down into his body in such a different, addictive way. Ichigo knows he's about to cum, the tightness in his balls say as much, but he already wants them to do it again. And again.
Finally giving up every semblance of self-control, Ichigo's hips jerk harshly upwards and he groans, more like a whimper, but he's not gonna admit to that, come on, burying himself a bit more in Byakuya's mouth, trying not to force himself further in than... strictly necessary... just a bit more... more... Oh. Oh!
His orgasm washes over him, it's like a wall of water, not anything like a trickle or just a stream, it's tsunami-like and he makes a strangled sound, pushing into it, taking it as it hits him, his cock spurting cum onto Byakuya's tongue before Ichigo had any chance of warning him. He actually does feel awful about that, he just can't find it in him to care right now. When he's drowning, right? He's definitely drowning in it.
Panting harshly, he just lies there in the wake of it. One hand gently cupping the back of Byakuya's head, cradling his hair weakly. His chest is heaving. ]
I -- [ His voice is shaking, too. Ichigo takes a moment to collect himself, then tries again. ] I was gonna let you know.
[ His fingers in Byakuya's hair, threading through it softly, doesn't say sorry. It says thank you. ]
[ Ichigo's desperation is incredibly physical, from the way he's twisting the sheets in one hand to the steel grip on Byakuya's hair. If he wanted to, he could pull Byakuya all the way down onto his cock - if he'd been that type of person. Of course, then they probably wouldn't be having sex at all. As it is, Ichigo treats him kindly; he holds on but doesn't pull, he twists against the sheets but doesn't force himself inwards, not to any bothersome degree. Though he can be overbearing, annoying and rude - and those are facts - he's also this: too sweet to make things uncomfortable for Byakuya, too kind and too principled in his own way.
As a token of his appreciation, Byakuya keeps sucking him right through his climax. Even with the other man's cock pushing dangerously close to his throat - and one day, perhaps they ought to try that, just to see - he doesn't stop, keeps him safely locked between his lips, within the warmth of his mouth. When he comes, pulsing harshly against Byakuya's tongue, he swallows dutifully, frowning slightly at the new taste and consistency. It's odd, as it turns out. He doesn't mind.
When Ichigo spends himself, he does it with a strangled sound, a moan of a kind that he won't quite allow himself and Byakuya decides that one day, he's going to hear him. One day. Now, he pulls gently off Ichigo's cock, feeling it pop past his lips, his jaw mostly numb at this point and thus, uninteresting. He leans into the touch of Ichigo's fingers in his hair, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against his abdomen.
I was gonna let you know he says, and Byakuya wants to say, don't worry, you did but instead, he just stays where he is, eyes closed, sinking into the comfortable, familiar darkness behind his eyelids.
Exhaling noisily, he gives his own cock a few harsh pulls, no finesse and very little carefulness, before pushing himself right over the edge, tasting Ichigo all the while, with every inhalation he makes. He comes, spending himself on his own knuckles, his nose pressed right beneath Ichigo's ribs and his shoulders shaking with every ragged breath he takes. ]
[ 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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saviorcomplexed) wrote2025-03-17 12:16 pm
no subject
The way the other man at the same time not only slips in a little bit more, doesn't take or claim, he'd be freakin' rude, too, if he did, but he doesn't, and Ichigo appreciates that. About as much as he appreciates the way he fills his mouth with his cum, hot, long strings of it across his tongue. It takes some effort to swallow right and his lips get sticky from the residual drops, escaping him in the process, but no one can probably tell anyway, since Byakuya, when he pulls out, leaves traces of himself on his lips as well.
Ichigo, looking up at him, feels warm and sticky, smacking his lips a few times before reaching up to wipe at his face, get the worst of it off. He'll remember. He'll remember now.
Beginning to get out of his clothes, Byakuya tells him to please get up now and only a tiny bit hesitantly, Ichigo gets to his feet, waiting a long moment to just watch Byakuya get undressed, feel himself being watched like that. His heart's pounding in his ears and his limbs feel heavy from want, anticipation. Nervousness. Yeah, now that he isn't actively doing anymore, the nervousness can set in. He feels himself blush, just the bridge of his nose and he looks down to begin shrugging out of his open, hooded shirt, even the t-shirt underneath feeling too tight for his chest. He shifts from one foot to the other. ]
You taste nice.
[ He hears himself say and immediately blushes crimson, keeping his gaze firmly locked on his hands, grabbing the hem of his t-shirt now, beginning to pull it over his head.
Blindly, he toes out of his sneakers, socks, simultaneously - and at least his coordination skills aren't suffering from blabbermouth syndrome. Shit. ]
no subject
Afraid of failure, perhaps.
He is that, too, which is ironic, considering how much he's won on behalf of other people throughout the years. ]
Thank you.
[ He says it quietly, voice straightforward. Keeping things simple. Gaze firmly set on Ichigo's face, he steps forward across the distance between them and folds his hands against his waist, slipping his fingers beneath the hem of his trousers. This close, he can smell himself on Ichigo's breath, on his skin. Beneath that, there's Ichigo's own scent, warm and sharp, strong from arousal. His next inhalation trembles a little as he undoes Ichigo's trousers, pushing them down slightly before slipping both hands inside his boxers, down the sides of his legs. He spreads out his fingers, feeling the hardness of him, of his buttocks and thighs, before reaching inside his boxers and pulling out his cock. He's careful about it. The head is a blushing pink, not unlike his face and neck. It looks quite enticing.
He gives it a light stroke and leans in to mouth along the side of his neck, up to his ear. His voice is low but the heat in his blood has started to creep into it, darkening his tone: ]
Drop these and come join me on the bed.
[ He kisses just the side of his mouth, flicking his tongue out and licking a string of cum off his lower lip. Then, he pulls back, squeezing his hips with both hands and heading for the bed, pulling the covers back and climbing in to wait. He lies down on his side and goes back to watching him. ]
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?
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. ]
no subject
Byakuya kisses his shoulder on the way. His face, the side of it. Ichigo breathes shakily, hardly even blinking as he stares up at him. Byakuya's hand in his hair feels really nice, too. His chest rises and falls beneath his palm.
What do you think I'm going to do? Which is probably the more strange and superfluous question between the two, if you ask Ichigo. At least be articulate about it, say it! He scoffs and turns his head in against the other man's mouth, pointing out: ]
You mean, what do I want you to do, right?
[ It wasn't very clear, really, but Ichigo can read it anyway. He gets it. Byakuya can't just come out and say, say you want me to suck your cock or something. Not his style, though.
He's above that.
Well, Ichigo is on the bottom right now, so supposedly that's his job. Smiling slightly, sharply, he starts out, ]
I... [ Then, he actually hears those words in his own voice in his head and immediately falters, not stuttering, just stopping for a moment, finding the courage. Come on! He's fought wars! He can say it. He can. A deep breath, and he closes his eyes, feeling his chest heave, deep and hard. ] I want you to suck me off. Byakuya.
[ Please, it means. ]
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On his knees, it's easy to lean in over him, the top of his head grazing Ichigo's chin on the way. He closes his lips around his left nipple and licks at it slowly, circling it with the tip of his tongue. His gaze slips sideways, following the lines of Ichigo's midriff and abdomen down to his cock where it rests against his belly. In a short moment, he'll step into unknown waters as well. His own body still feels heavy and sated from Ichigo's efforts and though a part of him is certainly preoccupied with questions such as how and what is it going to be like?, most of him is just aching to return the favour.
Sex, happily, is more about enthusiasm than skills.
That doesn't mean bad sex isn't disappointing, however.
Frowning slightly, he shifts his focus to Ichigo's other nipple, folding his other hand against his midriff as he leans down and licks at it, using the full width of his tongue this time, the strokes wet enough to leave his skin gleaming. Gently, he eases his thigh further up between Ichigo's legs and presses against his cock, just giving him a hint of friction, something to off-set the slow pace. He's certainly not going to rush himself in this matter, Ichigo will simply have to count slowly to ten or whatever he does to control his impatience. ]
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Ichigo feels his chest rise and fall beneath the weight of the other man, the way he leans in and down, giving him his whole front, the impact of body against body. His heart pounding, Ichigo twists slightly beneath him, to be able to twist his own neck and look, staring down just in time to see Byakuya lick at one nipple with just the tip of his tongue. The whole feeling of it is wet and tight, muscle, licks, heavy, oh. Shit. Ichigo gasps and struggles some more against the feeling of his hold, his cock jerking slightly in response. ]
If --
[ Then, Byakuya shifts his attention to Ichigo's other nipple, getting that with the whole breadth of his tongue now, Ichigo staring mesmerized at the difference in colour, his pale skin and his pink tongue, contrasting. Along with the tight pulsing in his whole chest now, his fingers gripping the sheets convulsively. He actually struggles to finish that trail of thought, not to say, the sentence. ]
-- you wanted to tease me, you're... [ A louder gasp this time and he bucks up against Byakuya's thigh, pressing up against Ichigo's cock, the underside feeling hot and sensitive. He grunts and shifts more, almost violently. Impatience riding his whole system, he mostly just wants to push Byakuya's head down, but can't really make himself. It feels wrong, some part of it. To rush it. When he's dreamt about this so much, right? Wouldn't that be to ruin it? ] ... you're doing a good job.
[ It feels nice, he could say, but his mouth feels like it's got a foot in it and it wouldn't cover it all anyway. Wouldn't say nearly enough. Instead, Ichigo reaches down slowly, runs his fingers up along Byakuya's shoulder blades and up the back of his neck, turning his palm up to let his ponytail spill over his fingers. That feels nice, too.
Taking a deep breath, remembering briefly, very briefly, helping out Yuzu when she was a little kid to tie up her hair like this, he loosens Byakuya's long, soft strands from the hold of the hairtie, lets it all fall down around his face. No idea if he even likes that, but Ichigo likes it. Ichigo likes to gather all that hair between his hands, push it out of his way for him.
It's something to do. While he's just lying around here, doing nothing. ]
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These days, it hardly matters. He could grow it waist-length, basically, with how little he uses Bankai. Glancing up at Ichigo, his chest softening another fraction at how he's clearly trying to keep still beneath him, to let himself receive, he decides that he just might. Grow it out.
Give him something to hold onto. ]
You are doing fine, as well.
[ He speaks against Ichigo's skin, lips sliding over the space between his midriff and his navel, his chin close enough to his cock that he might just touch it if he dips his head. Instead, he shifts down between his legs until he's got his cock more or less in his face, big and hard and beautifully pink at the tip. Swallowing down a moan at the sight alone, he gets comfortable on his elbows, caging Ichigo's hips in along the way and folding his fingers around the base carefully.
Like that, he angles it outwards, tilts his head a little to the side and leans down to lick a wet trail beneath the head, lapping at the shaft afterwards. He tastes like musk and sweat - like sex, basically, but distilled - and the feeling actually makes him hard again. This time, he doesn't hide the moan from the depths of his throat. Instead, he folds his other hand across Ichigo's belly as another weight, not to keep him still but to anchor him. He folds his hand more firmly around his shaft, parts his lips and takes the head into his mouth, letting him take up all the space he needs and breathing slowly out. ]
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Scoffing slightly, the sound soon morphing into an outdrawn moan as Byakuya proceeds to lick his cock, then suck it, Ichigo writhes helplessly beneath Byakuya's hand across his midriff. It's not a bond or a way to hold him down, it's to provide him some calm, right? Give him a sense of safety. Anyway, it works. Although he's breathing funny, it's mostly because this is the first time someone is putting their mouth to his cock at all, and he didn't know what to expect except pleasure, obviously. Still, it's a warm, deep sensation, the feeling goes beyond just the pleasure shooting into his groin, it's more than that.
It's Ichigo, desperately gripping Byakuya's hair, pushing all those loose bangs out of his face while he opens his mouth to him, Ichigo fighting not to thrust upwards and managing mostly by dumb freakin' luck. There is a sense of push, though, a slight upwards motion. And trembling. Lots of it. Ichigo groans, his head falling back weakly. He pants, turns his head to stare down himself. ]
You're doing better. Always gotta try and outdo me, huh?
[ He doesn't say, maybe this time you'll actually succeed, because he can't even think it, with his cock pushing over Byakuya's tongue like that, but he means it. Not like it matters anyway, Ichigo will - if he's lucky - have plenty of opportunity to refine his skill, learn, teach. They could get to know each other that way, isn't that so? They could share that kind of space, Byakuya and him. Now.
Arching slightly off the mattress, he moans in time with Byakuya himself and the sound of that, their voices together, only makes Ichigo's toes curl more. ]
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Breath stumbling out of him, he groans and does it again.
It gives... the very odd sensation of someone fucking into him and if anyone had asked him a year ago (nevermind the fact that absolutely no one would ever dare), he certainly wouldn't have expected to like it this much. His cock, however, is so appreciative that he has to move his hand from Ichigo's stomach and fold it around himself, squeezing hard just to do something with the aching need currently building in the pit of his belly. He shifts, giving himself a better angle and closes his eyes. Then, he starts moving his head more steadfastly, feeling the glide of Ichigo's cock between his lips as it slips out about halfway and then, back in it goes, far enough that the head pushes hard against the back of his mouth.
Drooling magnificently, he uses the slick to jerk him off more smoothly. Then, though his hand truly isn't wet enough by far, he mirrors the motion with his other hand, his balls so tight that the dryness of his palm makes absolutely no difference to the outcome.
Like that, he pushes them both onwards. He's not trying to rush anything, it just seemingly happens, like somehow there's a current in these strange waters strong enough to pull them both along. ]
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It's crazy. He cracks open one eye and chances a glance down at Byakuya who's, besides sucking him off like a freakin' pro, is also palming himself with the same focused, almost serene expression as always and Ichigo can't stand it. The other man's the same as always, but he's also giving Ichigo a blowjob and bringing him down into his body in such a different, addictive way. Ichigo knows he's about to cum, the tightness in his balls say as much, but he already wants them to do it again. And again.
Finally giving up every semblance of self-control, Ichigo's hips jerk harshly upwards and he groans, more like a whimper, but he's not gonna admit to that, come on, burying himself a bit more in Byakuya's mouth, trying not to force himself further in than... strictly necessary... just a bit more... more... Oh. Oh!
His orgasm washes over him, it's like a wall of water, not anything like a trickle or just a stream, it's tsunami-like and he makes a strangled sound, pushing into it, taking it as it hits him, his cock spurting cum onto Byakuya's tongue before Ichigo had any chance of warning him. He actually does feel awful about that, he just can't find it in him to care right now. When he's drowning, right? He's definitely drowning in it.
Panting harshly, he just lies there in the wake of it. One hand gently cupping the back of Byakuya's head, cradling his hair weakly. His chest is heaving. ]
I -- [ His voice is shaking, too. Ichigo takes a moment to collect himself, then tries again. ] I was gonna let you know.
[ His fingers in Byakuya's hair, threading through it softly, doesn't say sorry. It says thank you. ]
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As a token of his appreciation, Byakuya keeps sucking him right through his climax. Even with the other man's cock pushing dangerously close to his throat - and one day, perhaps they ought to try that, just to see - he doesn't stop, keeps him safely locked between his lips, within the warmth of his mouth. When he comes, pulsing harshly against Byakuya's tongue, he swallows dutifully, frowning slightly at the new taste and consistency. It's odd, as it turns out. He doesn't mind.
When Ichigo spends himself, he does it with a strangled sound, a moan of a kind that he won't quite allow himself and Byakuya decides that one day, he's going to hear him. One day. Now, he pulls gently off Ichigo's cock, feeling it pop past his lips, his jaw mostly numb at this point and thus, uninteresting. He leans into the touch of Ichigo's fingers in his hair, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against his abdomen.
I was gonna let you know he says, and Byakuya wants to say, don't worry, you did but instead, he just stays where he is, eyes closed, sinking into the comfortable, familiar darkness behind his eyelids.
Exhaling noisily, he gives his own cock a few harsh pulls, no finesse and very little carefulness, before pushing himself right over the edge, tasting Ichigo all the while, with every inhalation he makes. He comes, spending himself on his own knuckles, his nose pressed right beneath Ichigo's ribs and his shoulders shaking with every ragged breath he takes. ]
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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. ]