[ When Ichigo shifts a little - to seat himself more comfortably, one would hope - he accidentally pushes inwards, not much but enough to give the impression of a thrust. Byakuya's breath catches in his throat at the feel of it and when Ichigo moves his hand to the back of his head, he stays perfectly still, feeling strangely afloat, like he can't quite... The silence between them feels incredibly potent and for a moment, all he can hear is the sound of Ichigo's breathing, the slight rustling of their clothes whenever they move enough to disturb the fabrics. Blinking, his next intake of breath so light that it trembles both on the way in and out, he sinks down just a bit further over Ichigo's cock, feeling it push against the very back of his throat once more. It doesn't feel the same, he thinks, when he makes the motion himself. It doesn't feel wrong, either, just more familiar - the difference, he realises, between control and pliancy.
He's never been a particularly pliant person.
But right now, Ichigo - who is never quiet - is so silent that the air around them seems to tremble with it. Byakuya pulls back about half-way, breathing in shallowly once more, his cock so hard that it aches. On his tongue, Ichigo's cock feels hot and wet, the taste of him just a little less intense, reduced to skin and salt. Arousal. Looking up at him through his lashes, Byakuya thinks that they're both stepping into unknown waters now so perhaps, he can also challenge himself in turn. Perhaps, it doesn't matter why he shouldn't (if that is, indeed, even relevant to anyone who matters), perhaps the next step really is that easy.
To steady them both, he folds his free hand against Ichigo's belly, spreading out his fingers and pushing down slightly, just enough to imply, stay. Then, frowning in concentration, he leans in and lets Ichigo's cock push along the width of his tongue, all the way to the back of his throat once more. There, the head - massive, well, if something breaks, presumably it can be fixed in the aftermath - presses against the narrow passage between mouth and throat. It's a hole, though, isn't it. Surely, if you apply - perhaps a little bit of force -
He uses his weight to sink down, feeling the head push harshly inwards and the stretch isn't comfortable, exactly, but definitely tolerable - eyes falling shut again, shoulders relaxing forcibly, he pulls back an inch and repeats. This time, the head pops past something and his breath effectively stops. Oh.
Breathing through his nose instead, he stays where he is, as still as he can, before pushing down another inch, until the tip of his nose hits the coarse, orange curls between Ichigo's legs. The other man is seated so deep in his throat that he feels like another limb, somehow, an addition more so than an intrusion. Drooling magnificently all over Ichigo's lap, he breathes out very shakily, his whole body thrumming with excitement, with the urge to keep going. He pulls back slowly, his hand against Ichigo's abdomen heavy and uncompromising.
The two of them fucking never feels meaningless, but here, in Byakuya's house, on display like that, it feels weirdly colossal. Like a freakin' big thing, okay. even so, his silence doesn't last forever. Almost as if Ichigo was urging him, Byakuya pushes down over his cock, taking it in until the head pushes against the very back of his mouth. Ichigo groans, sits still by stupid dumb luck, because his hips are straining and his thighs keep tightening up, trying to push upwards, into, but Ichigo keeps the rein on himself taut. He doesn't wanna make it uncomfortable for the other man, he doesn't wanna push past any limitations, not tonight, not when it's not life and death.
Shit, he wants sex to always be this easy between them.
Another groan, deeper as Byakuya pulls back again, creating the perfect slide. In the man's hair, Ichigo's fingers tighten, tremble. He licks his lips, is about to say something, some kind of praise, then... ]
Fuck!
[ It sounds loud in the stillness, but shit! What's he supposed to do, huh - when Byakuya just goes ahead and freakin'... freakin'... swallows him. All of him, all of it, his cock lodged deep in the other man's throat, walls clamping around him on all sides and the tightness is so good, so overwhelming, Ichigo's head lolls back, his mouth wide open along with his eyes as he moans loudly, his whole lower body straining to push, thrust, take. even if Byakuya's hand against his abdomen, firm and uncompromising, is saying don't move, Ichigo still wouldn't have done it, right? Come on. He doesn't want Byakuya to choke, he wants to keep him this way, warm and wet and buried in his lap until his face is more or less planted in Ichigo's pubes.
He strokes the back of his head, having to concentrate not to cum on the spot, his voice shaking and raw as he says: ]
Wanna -- [ Pant, pant. ] -- test me? Byakuya, I'm -- [ Pant, pant. He licks his lips again, inclining his head so he's looking down at the other man. ] -- already so close. Definitely, I'm gonna lose this round.
[ except, it doesn't feel like a loss. Feels like a win. Ichigo's eyes fall shut, his expression tightening as he fights himself, not to move, not to move. Crap.
His moan comes out stuttering, long and outdrawn and loud enough to make up for all the quietness that came before. ]
[ It's not a competition, he wants to say, except he's rather got his mouth full and Ichigo's being very nice and accommodating, isn't he, staying still even though his body is clearly fighting rigorously to move. His hand against the back of his head is gentle, too, his voice shaking audibly, broken up by his pants. He sounds so good like this. Years back, you could not have convinced him that he'd like Ichigo's voice in any capacity, let alone this much but here they are. Here he is, with the other man's cock well and truly lodged in his throat and his own body is aching at the sound of him, at the way he feels.
With a slow, uneven exhalation through his mouth, he pulls back very gradually. When the head pops past the bend between throat and mouth, his body actually tenses up briefly at the feel of it. It's partially due to the way it feels like strain, like being wedged open just a bit further than you're meant to - more than that, though, it's the knowledge of what's happening. Of how the other man's carving out a path within him and that he doesn't mind in the slightest.
Perhaps, in a way, he already has and this is simply an emphasis.
With a groan, audible now that his mouth is only half-way full, Byakuya shifts and slips both hands to Ichigo's hips instead. He digs his fingers in, grasping him as he can from this angle, buttocks, thighs, the implication of bone beneath skin. Pointedly, he pushes at him, urging him up, in, come on, unwilling to release his cock entirely to speak the words themselves. Instead, he relies on Ichigo's ability to catch his meaning (something he seems to be growing steadfastly better at, even if he likes to get grumpy about it), bends his neck and sucks him right back down. This time, the head pops into his throat just a little easier. Unfortunately, the faster pace also comes with a drawback - half a second later, his throat convulses and he gasps, forcibly relaxing himself, very, very unwilling to actually choke on Ichigo's cock.
Instead, he stays still, his shoulders shaking slightly at the strain, before his body seemingly gives in and accepts the inevitable.
He doesn't look up at Ichigo now, not because he doesn't very much want to but because he can feel the water in the corners of his eyes and the way it clumps his eyelashes together. Pitiful, unimportant instinctual response - it shall be duly ignored. ]
[ The slide doesn't exactly get better, as in - it definitely doesn't get worse, right, as Byakuya starts pulling back, Ichigo feeling the motion of his own cock slipping back out like tight walls slipping along and releasing its length, his breath shuddering out of him and his moaning coming deep from his chest. His hand keeps stroking the back of Byakuya's head, long, calm touches of fingers to his hair, his scalp, making sure that the other man can feel him in turn. Anything else would be unfair, really.
If he'd intended to say something more, Byakuya shuts him up effectively by forcing himself back down over his cock, spearing himself on the whole size of it and Ichigo groans now, his hips trembling and straining in a way that almost physically hurts, shit. He wants to move. He wants to move so bad, he almost can't see for it.
What he does see - and feel, fromt tip to base - is Byakuya choking on him in his eagerness, his throat convulsing and his inner walls tightening harshly around him, almost enough to set Ichigo off completely, though he manages to calm the first response by deep breathing, his own lungs filling shallowly, rapidly. Can't imagine how Byakuya must be feeling like that. Not sure he wants to imagine, but he likes it.
Looking down, he takes in how his shoulders are shaking and on his face... oh... is that... well, sure, but... Air leaving him in a long exhalation, Ichigo reaches down with his free hand and cups the other man's face with his palm, running his thumb along his lower lashes, smearing out the wetness there. The whole feeling of doing that, to him, for him, makes his balls draw up so harshly, he's honestly only a minute from coming. Even if he didn't do what Byakuya is soundlessly telling him to. Thrust, he means, take me, and Ichigo breathes again, and again, running his now wet fingers down to the other man's mouth, tracing the round O-shape of it, taut and tight, where it's engulfing the very base of his cock.
He wants to take him, then. Just... Since he's asking, all right. He wants to have him that way. ]
Don't worry. [ His voice doesn't sound like his voice, when he speaks. It sounds airy and full of wonder. ] I'll be careful with you.
[ Like that, eyes narrowing in concentration and pleasure, Ichigo grasps Byakuya by his chin and angles himself slightly, pushing inward, into him, filling him and fuck, the feeling of that, the slide, the sensation of... control, being in control, being given that control by someone like Byakuya...
Moaning loudly, his chin drops to his chest and he repeats the motion one more time, then again, slowly, carefully. His other hand is still touching Byakuya by the back of his head, but more in the sense of holding him still. Keeping him. There.
The sounds he's making.... he doesn't even recognise them himself... whimpering and pitiful and like he's the one with water in his eyes...
Just a minute more of this, just let Byakuya hold out that long for him, okay? ]
[ It settles somewhere deep within his chest, the way Ichigo draws his fingers across his eyes, stealing some of the wetness there for himself. It ought to make him feel disgusted with himself, first, and Ichigo second or so, he would have thought. Before. There's a before and an after somewhere along the timeline of Ichigo's arrival in his life and right now, he's content to simply accept it as it is. When Ichigo runs his fingers across his lips next, tracing the round shape of his mouth where it stretches around his cock, he shudders in response. Byakuya's so warm like this. He's so...
I'll be careful with you says Ichigo and all he can think in response is safe, yes, that's what he is. They both are, right now, if not in the world then within the space they've created together and that's... more than enough, truly, he hadn't thought he'd ever...
Ichigo takes hold of his chin and he stops himself from looking up only because he can't possibly know what he looks like right now, how much honesty he'd be burdening the other man with - instead, he focuses on relaxing himself as Ichigo shifts against him, finding the right angle and pushing in. In. All the way. He'd gasp if he could because the feeling really is very overwhelming - not just the way Ichigo's cock slides down his throat, taking up space, all the space there is, but also the slight - so slight, but even so, undeniable - sense of power and the way that it shifts.
Ichigo has all of it now, like this.
Byakuya's given it to him willingly.
From the way Ichigo's holding him by the back of his head, the way he whimpers as he fucks into him and allows himself the pleasure of it, the other man understands the magnitude of it. He always has, since they began this... relationship, yes, surely that's the proper word now, there's the flowers and the book and the carefulness, always the carefulness. Byakuya wouldn't know what else to call it. It's not a wedding or a betrothal, it's barely even a promise - yet somehow, it's all of those things in a way he's never contemplated or known before.
Isn't it grandly typical of Ichigo, then, to be so novel about everything?
Slowly, his grip on Ichigo's hips ease into a hold, his thumbs stroking Ichigo's hipbones soothingly as the man pushes himself into his throat, out, in, fighting towards his climax. He's burning hot on his tongue and his scent is everywhere - whenever he draws breath, there's more of it, clinging to his tongue, to the insides of him. ]
[ Byakuya feels like he's blown completely open this way. With how Ichigo sinks into him again and again, keeping it from being rough not with an effort, but with all the freakin' will he's got. He'd never. He'd never treat him like that. Shit, he'd die first.
Those whimpering, low but outdrawn sounds keep rolling off of his tongue and he wouldn't know how to suppress them, even if Byakuya hadn't given him a carte blanche to be as loud as he wants. Maybe because it's not really a question of wanting it, it's just part of the experience, him fucking Byakuya's throat like this and Byakuya's family having to live with the evidence, they're two sides of the same coin. Ichigo's eyes fall shut as he gets closer and closer to coming, his balls drawing up harshly and his cock trobbing hotly along the full width of Byakuya's tongue.
Fuck. Fuck.
His fingers tighten convulsively in the other man's hair as he finally leans in over him a little, not pushing in any further, not sure how far he'd even get at this point, nowhere nice, at least, just like he would if he was gonna protect him from the onslaught of attack or something, shielding him with his own body, that kind of thing.
His palm runs along Byakuya's jaw, following the shape of his face, to his ear, to his temple. It's a caress. ]
Still honoured, you know. [ Ichigo is panting heavily. ] That -- [ Pant, pant, pant. ] - you keep giving me special treatment.
[ Only, at this point, his voice sounds pretty much destroyed and Ichigo throws his head back and moans, then, his whole body shaking notably as the next thrust, and the next after that grows slightly faster, minimally harder and he finally more stumbles than falls into his orgasm. He groans, then whimpers, then nothing, his hips working desperately as he spends himself so far back Byakuya' throat, it's almost like it doesn't exist.
Except it does, it exists between them. This feeling of overwhelming lightness and pleasure. He's gasping, staring up at the ceiling, his hand grabbing on to the back of Byakuya's head for support. He could stay like this a good long while, right, but he isn't gonna. Still shuddering and gasping, he's quick to pull out, keeping the movement slow and careful all throughout.
Even post-orgasmic, he' not just gonna go forgetting himself. Forgetting Byakuya, even less. ]
[ Special treatment, he calls it, Ichigo, while he makes the kind of noise that traverses the thin doors of the mansion easily, working his cock down Byakuya's throat with a gentleness that you probably couldn't and shouldn't expect from anyone else. Byakuya, eyes closed, falls into it, into the glide and the fullness and the taste of him, more skin than anything else at this point. It barely even occurs to him that his jaw is aching and his throat has begun to feel numb - instead, his sole source of discomfort is how impossibly hard he is and how doing anything about it is equally impossible. Keeping his mouth tight around Ichigo's length, taking care to keep his teeth out of the mix when his muscles begin to tire, he shifts on his knees and leans his face into Ichigo's touch, his searching fingers.
Honoured, he says.
Imagine that, from such a man.
His next exhalation is a half-groan, strangled of course, seeing as he's got Ichigo's cock blocking his airways and the movement of his tongue. The sound pales, he thinks, in comparison to Ichigo's whimpers, sweet and loud, stumbling in that way he has in the bedroom and nowhere else; awkwardness, perhaps, a touch of uncertainty. For someone who is, in fact, human (well, some of the way, at least), it's striking how they stand out - those all-too-human traits.
It's good, to hear him lose himself.
When Ichigo comes, he whimpers - and quiets. His gasping is loud amidst the stillness of the room, his cock pulsing briefly between Byakuya's lips before the sensation abates. He can't feel his spend to begin with, though once Ichigo withdraws from his throat, a string of cum follows in his wake, coating his tongue and the roof of his mouth. Oh. Byakuya looks up at him slowly, sitting up onto his knees. His gaze is neutral, though he's fairly certain his pupils must be taking up eighty percent of his face at this point.
With a very shaky exhalation, audibly, too, almost like a groan, Byakuya reaches for his hakama and begins the long (so long, a clear sign of Shutara Senjumaru's sadism) process of undoing the knots. His fingers tremble as he works, though his movements are no less precise than always. In the background, beyond the room, the sounds of the servants preparing for tomorrow have nearly faded completely - no doubt, following Ichigo's little performance, Seike has cleared the corridors.
In front of him, Ichigo looks entirely debauched. When Byakuya finally manages to wrestle his hakama out of the way along with his underwear, he's so hard that all he needs is a dry hand and less than handful of strokes before he spends himself over his knuckles, biting his own bottom lip hard and keeping himself upright by clinging onto Ichigo's thigh with bruising strength. ]
[ Although Byakuya isn't loud the same way Ichigo is, and Ichigo knows he could probably afford to turn the volume down at least a bit around here, he just can't really be bothered, if the other man is fine with it, so is Ichigo, Byakuya makes his own kind of sound. Got his own kind of loudness. Like, the way he pulls off Ichigo's cock and got cum clinging to his lips as he sits up, towering over Ichigo who can't honestly be bothered to move anymore than he could be bothered to shut up, that's pretty freakin' loud. Same with the way he stares down at Ichigo, his pupils blown so wide, there's almost nothing else left of his face than that... Loud. So loud.
Ichigo's breathing feels forcibly still, relaxed from orgasm, though part of him wants to be racing ahead along with Byakuya who's fighting the knots on his hakama, wrestling his clothes free, only a little more desperation away from actually looking really desperate, though the Kuchiki Clan head isn't quite stooping that low yet. He'd reach out and touch , too, help, but once the clothing's out of the way, shit, it's more or less over in the same breath, Byakuya breathing funny while he jerks off with his usual determination (plus some more of the desperation he doesn't normally exhibit at all) and coming four-five strokes of his hand later. Spending himself over his knuckles, the uppermost part of Ichigo's thighs which does make Ichigo's cock twitch pitifully in all the interest it can muster currently.
Byakuya is hanging on to him with a hand that's squeezing so tight, you'd think his bloodflow's gonna suffer, right? Good thing he's all soul here.
Murmuring something that's more sound than actual words, Ichigo breathes slowly in, out, and reaches out with both arms, more or less scooping the other man in against his chest, pulling him with him down as he eases back onto his rear, extending his legs from their awkward angle with a naturalness that comes of years of physical trainng - before and after his life as a Shinigami. He holds Byakuya like that, just craddles him in against his chest, feeling exposed and exposed to to a degree that's weirdly overwhelming.
Not bad, just... a lot. And Ichigo's done a lot many times in his life, he's not sure what this counts for.
Resting his chin on top of Byakuya's head, the scent of his hair thick in his nostrils, along with the smell of sex and cum, he knows, however,it counts for something. ]
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saviorcomplexed) wrote2025-03-17 12:16 pm
no subject
He's never been a particularly pliant person.
But right now, Ichigo - who is never quiet - is so silent that the air around them seems to tremble with it. Byakuya pulls back about half-way, breathing in shallowly once more, his cock so hard that it aches. On his tongue, Ichigo's cock feels hot and wet, the taste of him just a little less intense, reduced to skin and salt. Arousal. Looking up at him through his lashes, Byakuya thinks that they're both stepping into unknown waters now so perhaps, he can also challenge himself in turn. Perhaps, it doesn't matter why he shouldn't (if that is, indeed, even relevant to anyone who matters), perhaps the next step really is that easy.
To steady them both, he folds his free hand against Ichigo's belly, spreading out his fingers and pushing down slightly, just enough to imply, stay. Then, frowning in concentration, he leans in and lets Ichigo's cock push along the width of his tongue, all the way to the back of his throat once more. There, the head - massive, well, if something breaks, presumably it can be fixed in the aftermath - presses against the narrow passage between mouth and throat. It's a hole, though, isn't it. Surely, if you apply - perhaps a little bit of force -
He uses his weight to sink down, feeling the head push harshly inwards and the stretch isn't comfortable, exactly, but definitely tolerable - eyes falling shut again, shoulders relaxing forcibly, he pulls back an inch and repeats. This time, the head pops past something and his breath effectively stops. Oh.
Breathing through his nose instead, he stays where he is, as still as he can, before pushing down another inch, until the tip of his nose hits the coarse, orange curls between Ichigo's legs. The other man is seated so deep in his throat that he feels like another limb, somehow, an addition more so than an intrusion. Drooling magnificently all over Ichigo's lap, he breathes out very shakily, his whole body thrumming with excitement, with the urge to keep going. He pulls back slowly, his hand against Ichigo's abdomen heavy and uncompromising.
In a moment, he'll let the man move. ]
no subject
The two of them fucking never feels meaningless, but here, in Byakuya's house, on display like that, it feels weirdly colossal. Like a freakin' big thing, okay. even so, his silence doesn't last forever. Almost as if Ichigo was urging him, Byakuya pushes down over his cock, taking it in until the head pushes against the very back of his mouth. Ichigo groans, sits still by stupid dumb luck, because his hips are straining and his thighs keep tightening up, trying to push upwards, into, but Ichigo keeps the rein on himself taut. He doesn't wanna make it uncomfortable for the other man, he doesn't wanna push past any limitations, not tonight, not when it's not life and death.
Shit, he wants sex to always be this easy between them.
Another groan, deeper as Byakuya pulls back again, creating the perfect slide. In the man's hair, Ichigo's fingers tighten, tremble. He licks his lips, is about to say something, some kind of praise, then... ]
Fuck!
[ It sounds loud in the stillness, but shit! What's he supposed to do, huh - when Byakuya just goes ahead and freakin'... freakin'... swallows him. All of him, all of it, his cock lodged deep in the other man's throat, walls clamping around him on all sides and the tightness is so good, so overwhelming, Ichigo's head lolls back, his mouth wide open along with his eyes as he moans loudly, his whole lower body straining to push, thrust, take. even if Byakuya's hand against his abdomen, firm and uncompromising, is saying don't move, Ichigo still wouldn't have done it, right? Come on. He doesn't want Byakuya to choke, he wants to keep him this way, warm and wet and buried in his lap until his face is more or less planted in Ichigo's pubes.
He strokes the back of his head, having to concentrate not to cum on the spot, his voice shaking and raw as he says: ]
Wanna -- [ Pant, pant. ] -- test me? Byakuya, I'm -- [ Pant, pant. He licks his lips again, inclining his head so he's looking down at the other man. ] -- already so close. Definitely, I'm gonna lose this round.
[ except, it doesn't feel like a loss. Feels like a win. Ichigo's eyes fall shut, his expression tightening as he fights himself, not to move, not to move. Crap.
His moan comes out stuttering, long and outdrawn and loud enough to make up for all the quietness that came before. ]
no subject
With a slow, uneven exhalation through his mouth, he pulls back very gradually. When the head pops past the bend between throat and mouth, his body actually tenses up briefly at the feel of it. It's partially due to the way it feels like strain, like being wedged open just a bit further than you're meant to - more than that, though, it's the knowledge of what's happening. Of how the other man's carving out a path within him and that he doesn't mind in the slightest.
Perhaps, in a way, he already has and this is simply an emphasis.
With a groan, audible now that his mouth is only half-way full, Byakuya shifts and slips both hands to Ichigo's hips instead. He digs his fingers in, grasping him as he can from this angle, buttocks, thighs, the implication of bone beneath skin. Pointedly, he pushes at him, urging him up, in, come on, unwilling to release his cock entirely to speak the words themselves. Instead, he relies on Ichigo's ability to catch his meaning (something he seems to be growing steadfastly better at, even if he likes to get grumpy about it), bends his neck and sucks him right back down. This time, the head pops into his throat just a little easier. Unfortunately, the faster pace also comes with a drawback - half a second later, his throat convulses and he gasps, forcibly relaxing himself, very, very unwilling to actually choke on Ichigo's cock.
Instead, he stays still, his shoulders shaking slightly at the strain, before his body seemingly gives in and accepts the inevitable.
He doesn't look up at Ichigo now, not because he doesn't very much want to but because he can feel the water in the corners of his eyes and the way it clumps his eyelashes together. Pitiful, unimportant instinctual response - it shall be duly ignored. ]
no subject
If he'd intended to say something more, Byakuya shuts him up effectively by forcing himself back down over his cock, spearing himself on the whole size of it and Ichigo groans now, his hips trembling and straining in a way that almost physically hurts, shit. He wants to move. He wants to move so bad, he almost can't see for it.
What he does see - and feel, fromt tip to base - is Byakuya choking on him in his eagerness, his throat convulsing and his inner walls tightening harshly around him, almost enough to set Ichigo off completely, though he manages to calm the first response by deep breathing, his own lungs filling shallowly, rapidly. Can't imagine how Byakuya must be feeling like that. Not sure he wants to imagine, but he likes it.
Looking down, he takes in how his shoulders are shaking and on his face... oh... is that... well, sure, but... Air leaving him in a long exhalation, Ichigo reaches down with his free hand and cups the other man's face with his palm, running his thumb along his lower lashes, smearing out the wetness there. The whole feeling of doing that, to him, for him, makes his balls draw up so harshly, he's honestly only a minute from coming. Even if he didn't do what Byakuya is soundlessly telling him to. Thrust, he means, take me, and Ichigo breathes again, and again, running his now wet fingers down to the other man's mouth, tracing the round O-shape of it, taut and tight, where it's engulfing the very base of his cock.
He wants to take him, then. Just... Since he's asking, all right. He wants to have him that way. ]
Don't worry. [ His voice doesn't sound like his voice, when he speaks. It sounds airy and full of wonder. ] I'll be careful with you.
[ Like that, eyes narrowing in concentration and pleasure, Ichigo grasps Byakuya by his chin and angles himself slightly, pushing inward, into him, filling him and fuck, the feeling of that, the slide, the sensation of... control, being in control, being given that control by someone like Byakuya...
Moaning loudly, his chin drops to his chest and he repeats the motion one more time, then again, slowly, carefully. His other hand is still touching Byakuya by the back of his head, but more in the sense of holding him still. Keeping him. There.
The sounds he's making.... he doesn't even recognise them himself... whimpering and pitiful and like he's the one with water in his eyes...
Just a minute more of this, just let Byakuya hold out that long for him, okay? ]
no subject
I'll be careful with you says Ichigo and all he can think in response is safe, yes, that's what he is. They both are, right now, if not in the world then within the space they've created together and that's... more than enough, truly, he hadn't thought he'd ever...
Ichigo takes hold of his chin and he stops himself from looking up only because he can't possibly know what he looks like right now, how much honesty he'd be burdening the other man with - instead, he focuses on relaxing himself as Ichigo shifts against him, finding the right angle and pushing in. In. All the way. He'd gasp if he could because the feeling really is very overwhelming - not just the way Ichigo's cock slides down his throat, taking up space, all the space there is, but also the slight - so slight, but even so, undeniable - sense of power and the way that it shifts.
Ichigo has all of it now, like this.
Byakuya's given it to him willingly.
From the way Ichigo's holding him by the back of his head, the way he whimpers as he fucks into him and allows himself the pleasure of it, the other man understands the magnitude of it. He always has, since they began this... relationship, yes, surely that's the proper word now, there's the flowers and the book and the carefulness, always the carefulness. Byakuya wouldn't know what else to call it. It's not a wedding or a betrothal, it's barely even a promise - yet somehow, it's all of those things in a way he's never contemplated or known before.
Isn't it grandly typical of Ichigo, then, to be so novel about everything?
Slowly, his grip on Ichigo's hips ease into a hold, his thumbs stroking Ichigo's hipbones soothingly as the man pushes himself into his throat, out, in, fighting towards his climax. He's burning hot on his tongue and his scent is everywhere - whenever he draws breath, there's more of it, clinging to his tongue, to the insides of him. ]
no subject
Those whimpering, low but outdrawn sounds keep rolling off of his tongue and he wouldn't know how to suppress them, even if Byakuya hadn't given him a carte blanche to be as loud as he wants. Maybe because it's not really a question of wanting it, it's just part of the experience, him fucking Byakuya's throat like this and Byakuya's family having to live with the evidence, they're two sides of the same coin. Ichigo's eyes fall shut as he gets closer and closer to coming, his balls drawing up harshly and his cock trobbing hotly along the full width of Byakuya's tongue.
Fuck. Fuck.
His fingers tighten convulsively in the other man's hair as he finally leans in over him a little, not pushing in any further, not sure how far he'd even get at this point, nowhere nice, at least, just like he would if he was gonna protect him from the onslaught of attack or something, shielding him with his own body, that kind of thing.
His palm runs along Byakuya's jaw, following the shape of his face, to his ear, to his temple. It's a caress. ]
Still honoured, you know. [ Ichigo is panting heavily. ] That -- [ Pant, pant, pant. ] - you keep giving me special treatment.
[ Only, at this point, his voice sounds pretty much destroyed and Ichigo throws his head back and moans, then, his whole body shaking notably as the next thrust, and the next after that grows slightly faster, minimally harder and he finally more stumbles than falls into his orgasm. He groans, then whimpers, then nothing, his hips working desperately as he spends himself so far back Byakuya' throat, it's almost like it doesn't exist.
Except it does, it exists between them. This feeling of overwhelming lightness and pleasure. He's gasping, staring up at the ceiling, his hand grabbing on to the back of Byakuya's head for support. He could stay like this a good long while, right, but he isn't gonna. Still shuddering and gasping, he's quick to pull out, keeping the movement slow and careful all throughout.
Even post-orgasmic, he' not just gonna go forgetting himself. Forgetting Byakuya, even less. ]
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Honoured, he says.
Imagine that, from such a man.
His next exhalation is a half-groan, strangled of course, seeing as he's got Ichigo's cock blocking his airways and the movement of his tongue. The sound pales, he thinks, in comparison to Ichigo's whimpers, sweet and loud, stumbling in that way he has in the bedroom and nowhere else; awkwardness, perhaps, a touch of uncertainty. For someone who is, in fact, human (well, some of the way, at least), it's striking how they stand out - those all-too-human traits.
It's good, to hear him lose himself.
When Ichigo comes, he whimpers - and quiets. His gasping is loud amidst the stillness of the room, his cock pulsing briefly between Byakuya's lips before the sensation abates. He can't feel his spend to begin with, though once Ichigo withdraws from his throat, a string of cum follows in his wake, coating his tongue and the roof of his mouth. Oh. Byakuya looks up at him slowly, sitting up onto his knees. His gaze is neutral, though he's fairly certain his pupils must be taking up eighty percent of his face at this point.
With a very shaky exhalation, audibly, too, almost like a groan, Byakuya reaches for his hakama and begins the long (so long, a clear sign of Shutara Senjumaru's sadism) process of undoing the knots. His fingers tremble as he works, though his movements are no less precise than always. In the background, beyond the room, the sounds of the servants preparing for tomorrow have nearly faded completely - no doubt, following Ichigo's little performance, Seike has cleared the corridors.
In front of him, Ichigo looks entirely debauched. When Byakuya finally manages to wrestle his hakama out of the way along with his underwear, he's so hard that all he needs is a dry hand and less than handful of strokes before he spends himself over his knuckles, biting his own bottom lip hard and keeping himself upright by clinging onto Ichigo's thigh with bruising strength. ]
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Ichigo's breathing feels forcibly still, relaxed from orgasm, though part of him wants to be racing ahead along with Byakuya who's fighting the knots on his hakama, wrestling his clothes free, only a little more desperation away from actually looking really desperate, though the Kuchiki Clan head isn't quite stooping that low yet. He'd reach out and touch , too, help, but once the clothing's out of the way, shit, it's more or less over in the same breath, Byakuya breathing funny while he jerks off with his usual determination (plus some more of the desperation he doesn't normally exhibit at all) and coming four-five strokes of his hand later. Spending himself over his knuckles, the uppermost part of Ichigo's thighs which does make Ichigo's cock twitch pitifully in all the interest it can muster currently.
Byakuya is hanging on to him with a hand that's squeezing so tight, you'd think his bloodflow's gonna suffer, right? Good thing he's all soul here.
Murmuring something that's more sound than actual words, Ichigo breathes slowly in, out, and reaches out with both arms, more or less scooping the other man in against his chest, pulling him with him down as he eases back onto his rear, extending his legs from their awkward angle with a naturalness that comes of years of physical trainng - before and after his life as a Shinigami. He holds Byakuya like that, just craddles him in against his chest, feeling exposed and exposed to to a degree that's weirdly overwhelming.
Not bad, just... a lot. And Ichigo's done a lot many times in his life, he's not sure what this counts for.
Resting his chin on top of Byakuya's head, the scent of his hair thick in his nostrils, along with the smell of sex and cum, he knows, however,it counts for something. ]