[ 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
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. ]
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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. ]