Byakuya grabs hold of his left buttock, digging his fingers in enough that it's noticeable, because it's pulling his ass cheeks apart, letting the water trickle down in thin trails, making his asshole contract slightly from the exposure. Ichigo feels himself blushing bright red, loosening his hold on Byakuya's hair only enough to lean down on his shoulders with his arms, support himself there as he pushes his beet-red face in against the side of Byakuya's neck. Shit.
He's imagined something like this in the month that's come and gone in between last time and now. He's... touched himself to this thought, fingered himself with his other fist stuffed in his mouth to stay quiet. Ichigo has known for years that he likes buttstuff, it's not really a problem for the most part, it's just... really intimate, okay. It comes very close. Literally.
And here Byakuya is, definitely asking him without words, because he's as inarticulate as ever, you better believe, right, and his body's... Well, his cock's growing even harder against the underside of Byakuya's cock and out of sheer desperation, to keep some things still, at least, Ichigo quickly moves one hand to his mouth, noticing at the edge of his vision how half Byakuya's hair comes tumbling down at the motion, before he licks his palm and closes his fingers around both their cocks.
Keeping it together.
His breathing still comes out in hot puffs of air, making droplets move about on Byakuya's skin. He speaks like that, face turned in, letting Byakuya hold his weight in a way he wouldn't do with anyone else, because he knows Byakuya can. He trusts him to. ]
It's fine. I don't mind. I like it when I do it to myself.
[ Just hearing himself say those words is making him groan, closing his eyes and pushing his nose in against Byakuya's throat. ]
[ He catches the by-now familiar sight of Ichigo blushing a bright red all the way up to the bridge of his nose. Byakuya's gaze softens half a fraction and stays like that as the other man proceeds to lean against him, hiding his face against the side of his neck. He keeps himself steady, even as Ichigo licks his palm somewhat abruptly (like making a point, the kind of point you wouldn't have to make in a perfect world) and reaches down between them to take them both in hand. His breath tumbles out of him, though, at the sudden feel of warm, wet friction, the impulse to push up into it nearly overpowering. Nearly. Naturally, he can resist.
Instead, he folds his hand against the back of Ichigo's neck, feeling the unsteady puffs of his breathing against his shoulder, the way he gives him some of his weight to hold. The realisation - that he's holding him, that Ichigo is letting him - makes something in his chest tighten almost dangerously. ]
Mm.
[ He squeezes Ichigo's neck, the slope of his shoulder, before releasing him. The soap in the shower is neutral and expensive in the right way - and consequently, not unhealthy - so he carefully presses out a handful from the dispenser on the wall single-handedly. As he reaches for Ichigo's other buttock, folding his palm over it and allowing the slick tips of his fingers to press inwards, he imagines the other man doing it to himself and feels almost breathless from the mental image alone. His cock actually hardens between Ichigo's fingers, partially from that, partially from the feel of how hot he is, his fingertips slipping lightly over his arsehole, just a fleeting touch.
Byakuya, of course, has done research.
That is something altogether different.
Resting his head against the side of Ichigo's face, his hair going everywhere again now that it isn't as properly pulled back, he runs the tip of his index finger over his arsehole, more intentionally now, rubbing at the tight muscle, feeling it quiver in response. ]
[ Usually, Ichigo does these things alone. Not just the... sex stuff, the fingering and the buttplay, though obviously he's done those on his own until now, too. Who was he supposed to share it with, huh? No, it's -- everything. Ichigo has done everything on his own, the learning and the leveling up and the fighting, the winning and the losing. It's always just been him, right? It's been his struggles and his responsibility and his... his...
Byakuya leans his face against Ichigo's face, the side of it. Ichigo hasn't ever really had anyone he considered his, like all the rest was. There was Chad, but Chad had been nice about turning him down, at least and then, the war had been over and life went on and there hadn't been anyone... anything... Until now.
Ichigo inclines his head towards Byakuya's, rubs up against what he can feel of him, yeah, that includes his finger as well, where it's rubbing up against his asshole, making the tight muscle contract. The pleasure feels like a heat in his abdomen, between is legs, balls tight. He groans and turns his head enough to catch Byakuya's mouth, unceremoniously thrusting his tongue in between his lips. Just as a thanks, you know.
Spreading his legs more, he finds his balance on the wet tiles, before he begins a slow up-and-down motion of his hand, stroking both their cocks without really hitting a rhythm, purposefully, letting Byakuya especially feel the slick, warm friction of his palms. holding them. Together.
Making a strangled sound, feeling his asshole flutter in response, he pushes back against the other man's finger, rubs himself against it. Go on, it means. I want you to, okay. ]
[ When Ichigo takes his mouth again, Byakuya simply goes with it, parting his lips and letting him in, at least partially preoccupied with the way he's rubbing back against his finger, too. With every stroke of Ichigo's hands around their cocks, the tightness of it and the resultant friction make his breath catch. He gasps into his mouth at one particularly intense spark of pleasure, shifting against him. With how Ichigo's pushing back against his finger, he's communicating his need quite clearly, quite insistently. It's typical of him, isn't it. It's difficult, he thinks, not to notice the way that thought makes him feel - the gentle heat collecting in his chest, entirely unrelated to the arousal currently coursing through him.
He pushes the thought away firmly for later perusal, leans his chin on Ichigo's shoulder and looks down at his own hands, focusing. Water drips from his eyelashes, down the bridge of his nose, his hair hanging heavily down Ichigo's shoulder, adding black stripes to the paleness of his skin.
He's studied what he could of this type of sexual activity with which he has no relevant experience. He never finds it daunting, attempting something for the first time - for one, he's usually adept at what he does. For another, he knows at least enough to get by decently on the first try. He presses his index finger inside Ichigo to the first knuckle carefully, feeling the burning heat of him, the tightness of his ring muscle. Pulling out, he does it again - and again - until all resistance is gone and he can push in to the last knuckle instead.
The tightness feels impossible. Groaning, he thrusts upwards into Ichigo's fist, the underside of his cock gliding against Ichigo's. Breath stumbling audibly, he presses his lips to the other man's shoulder, kissing the skin there and pressing his forehead against the side of his neck - to stabilize, perhaps, he isn't certain - and then, he thinks about the diagrams he's studied and bends his finger inwards, finding that small bundle of nerves exactly where he'd expected. He rubs it gently, his finger gliding halfway in and out of Ichigo at the motion. ]
[ They're pretty much clinging to each other and Ichigo doesn't dislike that, he doesn't dislike it at all, actually. Should he really be surprised? Shouldn't he have expected this to happen at some point... and for Byakuya, too...
He moans, low in his throat, as the other man pushes his finger inside him, carefully but firmly. Shallow fucking to begin with, Ichigo really likes that, the stretch and the friction of in and out, his knees buckling pathetically until he presses in against Byakuya's front more, takes his weight, supports himself on him in turn. It feels close. Like they're beyond touching, but melting together a little.
Ichigo keeps up the jerking of their cocks, upping the speed a little in stages, until Byakuya presses his forehead against the side of his neck and, with his finger buried to the last knuckle, shit, that's deep, it's good, completely nonchalantly finds his prostate, making Ichigo's knees buckle even more. He moans louder now, his cock spurting precum all over both their cocks. It feels slick and sounds it too, when he strokes them faster to meet the rush of pleasure exploding through his lower body. His hands are shaking.
Having someone else do this to him... When he's only done it to himself a couple of times... like this... Sweaty and flushing, Ichigo turns his head enough to glance sideways at Byakuya, one eye cracked open. His asshole is tightening around him rhytmically. His thighs are trembling.
His cock's jerking in his grip. He can't take much more of this, but... he wants... ]
Use more fingers.
[ His voice is shaking, but he says it anyway, before closing his eyes and pressing his face in against the side of Byakuya's head, hair everywhere. He wants to feel more of him. He wants to feel less empty, more together. Right?
Like that, he pushes his ass back against Byakuya's hand hard, insistently. More fingers, it means. That's what he wants. More. ]
[ As always, Ichigo is loud - throughout the day, he's grown beyond the state of merely noticing to the point where just the sound of him moaning like that close to his ear actually makes him harder. He exhales shakily against his shoulder, thrusting up slowly into his grip, leaving the pacing to him, the rhythm. He can't focus on that as well, he'll admit - to no one, obviously, but the point stands. Eyes falling shut, he presses back against Ichigo's face, suppressing a smile at his words - a command, is it? It comes as no surprise at all that the man is bossy. He can feel the way Ichigo's cock is leaking all over his fingers, though, so he takes pity on him and pulls out partially, just enough to add another finger alongside the first. When he pushes in again, the stretch is wider but there's not much resistance yet, probably because Ichigo's so impatient for it, clearly enjoying what he's given.
It makes Byakuya satisfied, in turn. Knowing that he wants it so badly. He won't grant that particular thought too much attention, he knows too well where it leads but he finds calm in it, all the same. Allows himself that much.
Fucking Ichigo slowly but rhythmically with two fingers, pulling them apart a little on every third or fourth outstroke, he frees his other hand and runs it up his back, over muscled shoulders, the nape of his neck. He curls his fingers in Ichigo's hair, supporting him like that, keeping his own weight on the balls of his feet. Ichigo's taking some of it, regardless. You probably can't stop a man like that from trying to carry whatever he can of someone else, even when he's hanging off the cliff himself.
A pleasurable cliff, in this instance.
Wrist flicking back and forth against Ichigo's buttocks, fingers burrowing in deep inside him, he sets a faster pace, getting his prostate on every stroke in and out, letting him push back as he wishes in turn. His own climax, he thinks, is farther away and that's fine. He wants to feel Ichigo take that fall now, against him, when he's got him so well-supported, the scent of him strong and powerful in his nostrils. Groaning, a deep sound, not as loud as it could be because showing restraint is much more than just a habit, he twists into Ichigo's grip, keeping the stream of pleasure in his blood flowing steadily. ]
[ Byakuya's fingers, plural now, because he did what Ichigo told him, would you freakin' believe that, and added another to the first, are pounding in and out of him at a fast, steady pace, getting his prostate every time, the constant influx of pleasure feeling like it might make him explode or something. Ichigo moans, loudly, his body quivering violently where they're leaning on each other, his fingers jerking their cocks off faster and faster too, because he's getting desperate, okay, he really needs... Shit, he really needs to... ]
Byakuya, I... [ His voice sounds hoarser than usually and he swallows the next words which would sound too much like pleading (please, don't stop, don't), he doesn't need to beg, right, because Byakuya is already giving it to him and there's really nothing more he needs. This is good. This feels perfect. Groaning, rubbing his whole face in againt the other man's neck, he pushes rhythmically back against his fingers, meeting his thrusts, grinding himself against the places where they rub against his insides.
He's so close. He just wants... Shit, he wants...
Closer, he thinks, rubbing his palm over their cockheads repeatedly, once, twice, and his hips push forward on their own accord, Ichigo falling right after, feeling his balls drawing up harshly and his cock spurting cum the next moment, all over his fingers and Byakuya's cock, too. He's gasping, panting, his whole body contracting, thigh muscles, his opening, tightening up.
He's freakin' lucky he doesn't just collapse. ] Shit.
[ It comes out weakly, as he slumps heavily against Byakuya's front, clinging to him in a way he'd have been embarrassed about ten hours prior. He isn't anymore, though. It's safe. Byakuya's safe. Ichigo can trust him. With himself as well. So, he hangs there, panting loudly in the silence. On their cocks, his hand has stilled. Sorry about that. ]
[ Everything builds up, Ichigo's hands on their cocks going faster and faster, along with Byakuya's fingers in his arse, though he keeps a pace that matches Ichigo's thrusts backwards against him, very aware what happens when you break off your rhythm on the edge of climax. Against his neck, Ichigo's breath is hot and wet and the water from the spray fades entirely into the background for the next several heartbeats. Byakuya's mind feels full of him, mirroring what Ichigo must feel now, with his fingers pushing deep into his body. When Ichigo comes, he feels it seconds before - the way his muscles tighten up, particularly around his fingers.
As the other man spends himself across his own knuckles, Byakuya's cock growing wetter and slicker in the aftermath as well, he closes his eyes and imagines his own cock in that tight, furnace-hot hole and it's nearly enough to send him over the edge - it might have, even, if the timing had been on his side. Ichigo, however, collapses against him even as his arse contracts around Byakuya's fingers another couple of times, sucking him in. Simultaneously, he stops moving his hand.
Blinking rapidly from the sudden lack of friction, combined with the mind-melting feeling of Ichigo's body around his fingers, against his front, the sound of his heavy breath, Byakuya doesn't think. He doesn't even half-way think. Instead, he grabs Ichigo's hand around the wrist and pushes it against his cock, thinking the message is bound to be very, very obvious and if it isn't, he'll give him exactly two seconds to work it out before he takes matters into his own... hand.
He hasn't pulled his fingers from Ichigo's arse. The feeling of being inside him is too good, he'll simply have to deal with it for another few minutes (honestly, if he doesn't, he can pull away with no issue, Byakuya doesn't think he's ever known anyone who could make this man do something he didn't want to, even if they've made him do many things that he shouldn't have). Breathing harshly against his ear, he leans down sloppily and bites him on the shoulder. Hard.
[ There's a lot he'd have forgiven Byakuya in the aftermath of that aborted orgasm, right? Like, if he'd started to complain. Or scolded him. Or given him that look out the corner of his eye that he has perfected, disdainful and snooty. All of that, Ichigo would've been on board with. It was unfair of him to stop, but Byakuya himself was the one who made it so good, he couldn't keep his mind on two things at once. So, maybe he was the unfair one, honestly.
Anyway, whatever Ichigo might have forgiven Byakuya for doing after he stopped jerking them off, his own cock spent and hyper-sensitive, biting him was never on that list, and even so that's exactly what Byakuya does. He takes Ichigo's hand and more or less thrusts it against his still hard cock and bites his freakin' shoulder.
Ichigo gasps. His cock would've jerked at it, if he hadn't just come, but instead there's residual heat in his belly that intensifies and his asshole contracts again around Byakuya's fingers that he hasn't pulled out of him. He fixes his weight distribution, shifting from one foot to the other, leaning in against the other man still and grabs his cock in one hand, it's slick from Ichigo's cum and Byakuya's own precum. It's really messy, you know.
Like that, he starts jerking him off again, steadily, rhythmically, building it up fast. To help him along, he reaches down with his other hand and starts fondling his balls, softly, gently, he's discovered Byakuya is really sensitive and he isn't gonna make it uncomfortable for him.
Yet, at least.
The bastard bit him. That's just rude. If he can be careless like that, Ichigo can, too.
So, as soon as his climax is reaching its peak, Ichigo feels it in the way his muscles tighten and the rapid way he pushes in against his hand... He halts again, purposefully this time. Stops right before he comes, just moving his working hand up and pushing it against Byakuya's abdomen instead, feeling the tremor in his skin. He smiles in against the side of his face, sharply. ]
[ He groans, a low and ragged sound from deep in his throat, as Ichigo starts working his cock, a steady rhythm, exactly right. The bite mark on his shoulder looks flushed and red and Byakuya decides, feeling more than a little lightheaded, that it suits him very well. He thrusts up into Ichigo's grasp, his balls tightening harshly when Ichigo takes them in hand, his touch careful, soft. It's impressive, how well they already know how to handle each other, yes, it's - this is exactly as he needs it, just a little - bit - more -
And then.
Then!
When Ichigo takes his hand off him, pressing it against his abdomen instead, the sudden absence of friction makes the pleasure building in his body fizzle down to nearly nothing, to tension and the feel of the spray, hitting his shoulders and the back of his head. He blinks through the water at Ichigo, for a moment completely incapable of understanding. Then, the man - this infuriating man! - tells him he could just say it and what the hell is that supposed to mean, like he didn't just -
Taking a very deep, very uneven breath, Byakuya pulls his fingers slowly from his body, taking care. His body is screaming for stimulation. His toes are actually curling in distress against the floor tiles. You could just say it. Breath trembling out from between his lips, he pushes his forehead against the side of Ichigo's neck. When he speaks, his voice trembles audibly. ]
Say - what, exactly?
[ He runs his hand over Ichigo's buttocks almost mindlessly. Then, just because he can, because who does this man even think he is, really, he bites him along the jugular, hard enough to taste salt on his tongue when he pulls back. The teeth marks are even more obvious this time.
He folds his other hand against Ichigo's waist. It's keeping his own balance as much as supporting him.
[ In response, Byakuya withdraws his fingers from Ichigo's ass, Ichigo instaneously beginning to miss his presence there as a consequence. He shifts his wait again, one foot to the other, for proper balance, the other man's forehead heavy against the side of his neck. Ichigo pushes against him slightly, just so he can tell they're freakin' together in this. Both of them have an acute interest in Byakuya coming, okay, Ichigo just thinks he should be nicer about it - not biting people would be a place to start, right? Really.
Say what exactly, Byakuya asks and Ichigo scoffs, not commenting on the irony of this particular man wanting or needing him to say it first, on top of everything else he needs right now, you'd think. Ichigo's hands back on him.
Ichigo really wants to touch him again, feel his body.
Still, his smile doesn't grow any less sharp as Byakuya bites him again, jugular this time, nice and big and hard and it's gonna take Ichigo about five minutes from here, to get hard again, shit. He groans lightly, pushing into the other man's teeth first, before he pulls back, leaves his marks on him. Ichigo kinda wants to see. If he was gonna touch it, he'd have to move his hands, though, and he isn't that desperate. Because Byakuya is a bastard, that mark is gonna be there in ten minutes time, when they're done showering, too. Not done fucking. They'll be here for the night, after all.
So, he groans and replies, his blush only a shadow, but his voice thick and throaty, darker than his usual pitch, ]
Say 'please, let me come' -- [ And on an afterthought, since Ichigo has discovered that he really likes it when Byakuya says his name a particular way, he adds: ] -- 'Ichigo'.
[ He doesn't waste his breath talking about how that's the polite thing to do, come on, they can both tell, this is just for Ichigo's benefit. He wants Byakuya to beg him in that voice of his, because he's desperate and can't stand it, can't stand not being touched by him. That's something he's allowed to want for himself, right? No one's suffering because of that. It won't kill anyone.
He grunts slightly and leans in more against Byakuya, as incetive he reaches down and closes his one hand around his cock again, stroking him slowly, slowly, but with lots of potential, yeah... With his other, he weighs his balls againts his palm, just slowly rubbing at the sack with his thumb. ]
[ Two pleasant surprises in one - the fact that he likes to bite Ichigo (his cock definitely likes it) and that Ichigo likes it, too. That groan goes straight to his aching balls. Eyes shut, he leans back against the other man, sensing the way they're holding each other up and registering the novelty of it, of the concept. Such a thing - Byakuya is not supposed to expect it from anyone. Not as a clan head, not as a captain. But... as a partner, whatever one might call them, surely equality has a different value. It's not a sign of weakness, is it, to want someone, just one person in your life, close enough that sharing doesn't jeopardize either of you?
He's had one attempt already at that kind of completion. He'd long since decided not to seek it out again.
Ichigo tells him his line against his ear, his breath hot and damp. His hair, too, is sticking to his brow and when Byakuya turns his face towards him, he buries his nose within it, next to Ichigo's temple. He thinks the words over in his mind, feels them resonate within him like a circle, closing. Please, he told him, back when he'd thought he had nothing else to offer anyone, no way to repent for his mistakes and his humiliation.
He will say it again now that he has been proven wrong. ]
Please.
[ He forces himself not to jerk upwards into Ichigo's grip. That light touch against his balls makes the muscles in his thighs tense and release, his breathing stumbling from between his lips. He kisses the bite mark on Ichigo's neck and steadies himself, then says the next words evenly: ]
Let me come. Ichigo.
[ If he hadn't been so breathless, it probably would have sounded not unlike a command. Instead, to his own ears it sounds like something he can't quite qualify, something new and different. Exciting and dangerous with pitfalls so deep that they might as well be endless. He keeps his eyes closed and waits for Ichigo to follow through. ]
[ 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. ]
[ He groans, leaning in against Ichigo's body, his face, his neck. He feels overheated and sweaty, even with the shower still on - it's as if the heat comes from inside, somehow, locked beneath his skin and blooming faster, more insistently, with every second that passes like this. Ichigo touches him steadily, brushing over the sensitive head of his cock on every stroke down the shaft and he's gasping from it, fingers digging into Ichigo's waist and shoulder where he's currently clinging on with no dignity whatsoever. He needs to - oh, he needs - his balls tighten up harshly, abruptly, against Ichigo's fingers and suddenly, he can't breathe. Pleasure erupting throughout his body, he pushes his forehead almost desperately against Ichigo's shoulder, feeling himself pulse between his fingers. He comes in hot spurts, a long, overwhelming orgasm - he's never felt anything like it before.
The water, of course, does away with the evidence rather quickly but the feeling of it rages through his body for seconds even after he's stopped coming, the darkness behind his eyelids exploding in light. He doesn't even realise he's buried his teeth in the meat of Ichigo's shoulder again, not before some innate, unthinking part of him thinks stop and he pulls off before he can actually break the skin.
Blinking blearily down at his handiwork - this time around, the teeth marks are blatant, a bruise more so than anything else - he kisses the skin there softly. Thinks about Ichigo, walking around for the next couple of days with his markings on his body underneath all those ghastly human clothes and feels a deep, somewhat odd satisfaction at the thought.
Though this gigai isn't his real body, he'll feel the echoes of Ichigo's touch for days as well.
It's another way to even out the field between them, perhaps.
Muscles trembling, he leans back against the tiles, letting the water spray hit him as it falls and opening his arms towards Ichigo in invitation. He looks at him through strands of hair sticking to his face, through a fog of pleasure and with the memories of rain at the back of his mind. ]
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saviorcomplexed) wrote2025-03-17 12:16 pm
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Byakuya grabs hold of his left buttock, digging his fingers in enough that it's noticeable, because it's pulling his ass cheeks apart, letting the water trickle down in thin trails, making his asshole contract slightly from the exposure. Ichigo feels himself blushing bright red, loosening his hold on Byakuya's hair only enough to lean down on his shoulders with his arms, support himself there as he pushes his beet-red face in against the side of Byakuya's neck. Shit.
He's imagined something like this in the month that's come and gone in between last time and now. He's... touched himself to this thought, fingered himself with his other fist stuffed in his mouth to stay quiet. Ichigo has known for years that he likes buttstuff, it's not really a problem for the most part, it's just... really intimate, okay. It comes very close. Literally.
And here Byakuya is, definitely asking him without words, because he's as inarticulate as ever, you better believe, right, and his body's... Well, his cock's growing even harder against the underside of Byakuya's cock and out of sheer desperation, to keep some things still, at least, Ichigo quickly moves one hand to his mouth, noticing at the edge of his vision how half Byakuya's hair comes tumbling down at the motion, before he licks his palm and closes his fingers around both their cocks.
Keeping it together.
His breathing still comes out in hot puffs of air, making droplets move about on Byakuya's skin. He speaks like that, face turned in, letting Byakuya hold his weight in a way he wouldn't do with anyone else, because he knows Byakuya can. He trusts him to. ]
It's fine. I don't mind. I like it when I do it to myself.
[ Just hearing himself say those words is making him groan, closing his eyes and pushing his nose in against Byakuya's throat. ]
no subject
Instead, he folds his hand against the back of Ichigo's neck, feeling the unsteady puffs of his breathing against his shoulder, the way he gives him some of his weight to hold. The realisation - that he's holding him, that Ichigo is letting him - makes something in his chest tighten almost dangerously. ]
Mm.
[ He squeezes Ichigo's neck, the slope of his shoulder, before releasing him. The soap in the shower is neutral and expensive in the right way - and consequently, not unhealthy - so he carefully presses out a handful from the dispenser on the wall single-handedly. As he reaches for Ichigo's other buttock, folding his palm over it and allowing the slick tips of his fingers to press inwards, he imagines the other man doing it to himself and feels almost breathless from the mental image alone. His cock actually hardens between Ichigo's fingers, partially from that, partially from the feel of how hot he is, his fingertips slipping lightly over his arsehole, just a fleeting touch.
Byakuya, of course, has done research.
That is something altogether different.
Resting his head against the side of Ichigo's face, his hair going everywhere again now that it isn't as properly pulled back, he runs the tip of his index finger over his arsehole, more intentionally now, rubbing at the tight muscle, feeling it quiver in response. ]
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Byakuya leans his face against Ichigo's face, the side of it. Ichigo hasn't ever really had anyone he considered his, like all the rest was. There was Chad, but Chad had been nice about turning him down, at least and then, the war had been over and life went on and there hadn't been anyone... anything... Until now.
Ichigo inclines his head towards Byakuya's, rubs up against what he can feel of him, yeah, that includes his finger as well, where it's rubbing up against his asshole, making the tight muscle contract. The pleasure feels like a heat in his abdomen, between is legs, balls tight. He groans and turns his head enough to catch Byakuya's mouth, unceremoniously thrusting his tongue in between his lips. Just as a thanks, you know.
Spreading his legs more, he finds his balance on the wet tiles, before he begins a slow up-and-down motion of his hand, stroking both their cocks without really hitting a rhythm, purposefully, letting Byakuya especially feel the slick, warm friction of his palms. holding them. Together.
Making a strangled sound, feeling his asshole flutter in response, he pushes back against the other man's finger, rubs himself against it. Go on, it means. I want you to, okay. ]
no subject
He pushes the thought away firmly for later perusal, leans his chin on Ichigo's shoulder and looks down at his own hands, focusing. Water drips from his eyelashes, down the bridge of his nose, his hair hanging heavily down Ichigo's shoulder, adding black stripes to the paleness of his skin.
He's studied what he could of this type of sexual activity with which he has no relevant experience. He never finds it daunting, attempting something for the first time - for one, he's usually adept at what he does. For another, he knows at least enough to get by decently on the first try. He presses his index finger inside Ichigo to the first knuckle carefully, feeling the burning heat of him, the tightness of his ring muscle. Pulling out, he does it again - and again - until all resistance is gone and he can push in to the last knuckle instead.
The tightness feels impossible. Groaning, he thrusts upwards into Ichigo's fist, the underside of his cock gliding against Ichigo's. Breath stumbling audibly, he presses his lips to the other man's shoulder, kissing the skin there and pressing his forehead against the side of his neck - to stabilize, perhaps, he isn't certain - and then, he thinks about the diagrams he's studied and bends his finger inwards, finding that small bundle of nerves exactly where he'd expected. He rubs it gently, his finger gliding halfway in and out of Ichigo at the motion. ]
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He moans, low in his throat, as the other man pushes his finger inside him, carefully but firmly. Shallow fucking to begin with, Ichigo really likes that, the stretch and the friction of in and out, his knees buckling pathetically until he presses in against Byakuya's front more, takes his weight, supports himself on him in turn. It feels close. Like they're beyond touching, but melting together a little.
Ichigo keeps up the jerking of their cocks, upping the speed a little in stages, until Byakuya presses his forehead against the side of his neck and, with his finger buried to the last knuckle, shit, that's deep, it's good, completely nonchalantly finds his prostate, making Ichigo's knees buckle even more. He moans louder now, his cock spurting precum all over both their cocks. It feels slick and sounds it too, when he strokes them faster to meet the rush of pleasure exploding through his lower body. His hands are shaking.
Having someone else do this to him... When he's only done it to himself a couple of times... like this... Sweaty and flushing, Ichigo turns his head enough to glance sideways at Byakuya, one eye cracked open. His asshole is tightening around him rhytmically. His thighs are trembling.
His cock's jerking in his grip. He can't take much more of this, but... he wants... ]
Use more fingers.
[ His voice is shaking, but he says it anyway, before closing his eyes and pressing his face in against the side of Byakuya's head, hair everywhere. He wants to feel more of him. He wants to feel less empty, more together. Right?
Like that, he pushes his ass back against Byakuya's hand hard, insistently. More fingers, it means. That's what he wants. More. ]
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It makes Byakuya satisfied, in turn. Knowing that he wants it so badly. He won't grant that particular thought too much attention, he knows too well where it leads but he finds calm in it, all the same. Allows himself that much.
Fucking Ichigo slowly but rhythmically with two fingers, pulling them apart a little on every third or fourth outstroke, he frees his other hand and runs it up his back, over muscled shoulders, the nape of his neck. He curls his fingers in Ichigo's hair, supporting him like that, keeping his own weight on the balls of his feet. Ichigo's taking some of it, regardless. You probably can't stop a man like that from trying to carry whatever he can of someone else, even when he's hanging off the cliff himself.
A pleasurable cliff, in this instance.
Wrist flicking back and forth against Ichigo's buttocks, fingers burrowing in deep inside him, he sets a faster pace, getting his prostate on every stroke in and out, letting him push back as he wishes in turn. His own climax, he thinks, is farther away and that's fine. He wants to feel Ichigo take that fall now, against him, when he's got him so well-supported, the scent of him strong and powerful in his nostrils. Groaning, a deep sound, not as loud as it could be because showing restraint is much more than just a habit, he twists into Ichigo's grip, keeping the stream of pleasure in his blood flowing steadily. ]
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Byakuya, I... [ His voice sounds hoarser than usually and he swallows the next words which would sound too much like pleading (please, don't stop, don't), he doesn't need to beg, right, because Byakuya is already giving it to him and there's really nothing more he needs. This is good. This feels perfect. Groaning, rubbing his whole face in againt the other man's neck, he pushes rhythmically back against his fingers, meeting his thrusts, grinding himself against the places where they rub against his insides.
He's so close. He just wants... Shit, he wants...
Closer, he thinks, rubbing his palm over their cockheads repeatedly, once, twice, and his hips push forward on their own accord, Ichigo falling right after, feeling his balls drawing up harshly and his cock spurting cum the next moment, all over his fingers and Byakuya's cock, too. He's gasping, panting, his whole body contracting, thigh muscles, his opening, tightening up.
He's freakin' lucky he doesn't just collapse. ] Shit.
[ It comes out weakly, as he slumps heavily against Byakuya's front, clinging to him in a way he'd have been embarrassed about ten hours prior. He isn't anymore, though. It's safe. Byakuya's safe. Ichigo can trust him. With himself as well. So, he hangs there, panting loudly in the silence. On their cocks, his hand has stilled. Sorry about that. ]
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As the other man spends himself across his own knuckles, Byakuya's cock growing wetter and slicker in the aftermath as well, he closes his eyes and imagines his own cock in that tight, furnace-hot hole and it's nearly enough to send him over the edge - it might have, even, if the timing had been on his side. Ichigo, however, collapses against him even as his arse contracts around Byakuya's fingers another couple of times, sucking him in. Simultaneously, he stops moving his hand.
Blinking rapidly from the sudden lack of friction, combined with the mind-melting feeling of Ichigo's body around his fingers, against his front, the sound of his heavy breath, Byakuya doesn't think. He doesn't even half-way think. Instead, he grabs Ichigo's hand around the wrist and pushes it against his cock, thinking the message is bound to be very, very obvious and if it isn't, he'll give him exactly two seconds to work it out before he takes matters into his own... hand.
He hasn't pulled his fingers from Ichigo's arse. The feeling of being inside him is too good, he'll simply have to deal with it for another few minutes (honestly, if he doesn't, he can pull away with no issue, Byakuya doesn't think he's ever known anyone who could make this man do something he didn't want to, even if they've made him do many things that he shouldn't have). Breathing harshly against his ear, he leans down sloppily and bites him on the shoulder. Hard.
Now, it means. ]
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Anyway, whatever Ichigo might have forgiven Byakuya for doing after he stopped jerking them off, his own cock spent and hyper-sensitive, biting him was never on that list, and even so that's exactly what Byakuya does. He takes Ichigo's hand and more or less thrusts it against his still hard cock and bites his freakin' shoulder.
Ichigo gasps. His cock would've jerked at it, if he hadn't just come, but instead there's residual heat in his belly that intensifies and his asshole contracts again around Byakuya's fingers that he hasn't pulled out of him. He fixes his weight distribution, shifting from one foot to the other, leaning in against the other man still and grabs his cock in one hand, it's slick from Ichigo's cum and Byakuya's own precum. It's really messy, you know.
Like that, he starts jerking him off again, steadily, rhythmically, building it up fast. To help him along, he reaches down with his other hand and starts fondling his balls, softly, gently, he's discovered Byakuya is really sensitive and he isn't gonna make it uncomfortable for him.
Yet, at least.
The bastard bit him. That's just rude. If he can be careless like that, Ichigo can, too.
So, as soon as his climax is reaching its peak, Ichigo feels it in the way his muscles tighten and the rapid way he pushes in against his hand... He halts again, purposefully this time. Stops right before he comes, just moving his working hand up and pushing it against Byakuya's abdomen instead, feeling the tremor in his skin. He smiles in against the side of his face, sharply. ]
You could just say it, you know.
[ That inarticulate man. Say, don't stop. ]
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And then.
Then!
When Ichigo takes his hand off him, pressing it against his abdomen instead, the sudden absence of friction makes the pleasure building in his body fizzle down to nearly nothing, to tension and the feel of the spray, hitting his shoulders and the back of his head. He blinks through the water at Ichigo, for a moment completely incapable of understanding. Then, the man - this infuriating man! - tells him he could just say it and what the hell is that supposed to mean, like he didn't just -
Taking a very deep, very uneven breath, Byakuya pulls his fingers slowly from his body, taking care. His body is screaming for stimulation. His toes are actually curling in distress against the floor tiles. You could just say it. Breath trembling out from between his lips, he pushes his forehead against the side of Ichigo's neck. When he speaks, his voice trembles audibly. ]
Say - what, exactly?
[ He runs his hand over Ichigo's buttocks almost mindlessly. Then, just because he can, because who does this man even think he is, really, he bites him along the jugular, hard enough to taste salt on his tongue when he pulls back. The teeth marks are even more obvious this time.
He folds his other hand against Ichigo's waist. It's keeping his own balance as much as supporting him.
Gods, he needs - he needs - ]
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Say what exactly, Byakuya asks and Ichigo scoffs, not commenting on the irony of this particular man wanting or needing him to say it first, on top of everything else he needs right now, you'd think. Ichigo's hands back on him.
Ichigo really wants to touch him again, feel his body.
Still, his smile doesn't grow any less sharp as Byakuya bites him again, jugular this time, nice and big and hard and it's gonna take Ichigo about five minutes from here, to get hard again, shit. He groans lightly, pushing into the other man's teeth first, before he pulls back, leaves his marks on him. Ichigo kinda wants to see. If he was gonna touch it, he'd have to move his hands, though, and he isn't that desperate. Because Byakuya is a bastard, that mark is gonna be there in ten minutes time, when they're done showering, too. Not done fucking. They'll be here for the night, after all.
So, he groans and replies, his blush only a shadow, but his voice thick and throaty, darker than his usual pitch, ]
Say 'please, let me come' -- [ And on an afterthought, since Ichigo has discovered that he really likes it when Byakuya says his name a particular way, he adds: ] -- 'Ichigo'.
[ He doesn't waste his breath talking about how that's the polite thing to do, come on, they can both tell, this is just for Ichigo's benefit. He wants Byakuya to beg him in that voice of his, because he's desperate and can't stand it, can't stand not being touched by him. That's something he's allowed to want for himself, right? No one's suffering because of that. It won't kill anyone.
He grunts slightly and leans in more against Byakuya, as incetive he reaches down and closes his one hand around his cock again, stroking him slowly, slowly, but with lots of potential, yeah... With his other, he weighs his balls againts his palm, just slowly rubbing at the sack with his thumb. ]
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He's had one attempt already at that kind of completion. He'd long since decided not to seek it out again.
Ichigo tells him his line against his ear, his breath hot and damp. His hair, too, is sticking to his brow and when Byakuya turns his face towards him, he buries his nose within it, next to Ichigo's temple. He thinks the words over in his mind, feels them resonate within him like a circle, closing. Please, he told him, back when he'd thought he had nothing else to offer anyone, no way to repent for his mistakes and his humiliation.
He will say it again now that he has been proven wrong. ]
Please.
[ He forces himself not to jerk upwards into Ichigo's grip. That light touch against his balls makes the muscles in his thighs tense and release, his breathing stumbling from between his lips. He kisses the bite mark on Ichigo's neck and steadies himself, then says the next words evenly: ]
Let me come. Ichigo.
[ If he hadn't been so breathless, it probably would have sounded not unlike a command. Instead, to his own ears it sounds like something he can't quite qualify, something new and different. Exciting and dangerous with pitfalls so deep that they might as well be endless. He keeps his eyes closed and waits for Ichigo to follow through. ]
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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. ]
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The water, of course, does away with the evidence rather quickly but the feeling of it rages through his body for seconds even after he's stopped coming, the darkness behind his eyelids exploding in light. He doesn't even realise he's buried his teeth in the meat of Ichigo's shoulder again, not before some innate, unthinking part of him thinks stop and he pulls off before he can actually break the skin.
Blinking blearily down at his handiwork - this time around, the teeth marks are blatant, a bruise more so than anything else - he kisses the skin there softly. Thinks about Ichigo, walking around for the next couple of days with his markings on his body underneath all those ghastly human clothes and feels a deep, somewhat odd satisfaction at the thought.
Though this gigai isn't his real body, he'll feel the echoes of Ichigo's touch for days as well.
It's another way to even out the field between them, perhaps.
Muscles trembling, he leans back against the tiles, letting the water spray hit him as it falls and opening his arms towards Ichigo in invitation. He looks at him through strands of hair sticking to his face, through a fog of pleasure and with the memories of rain at the back of his mind. ]