icarusalsoflew | 003. and in every raindrop... // open post.

[ Ah.

There's a bit of a pause at your request, betraying your fiance's hesitation. He hasn't moved away from you, though, even if he has gone a little still in your grip. ]

Josh...

[ He doesn't want to say no, but. ]

Don't hide from me. [ He says that softly, gaze averting as he traces a finger on your cheek. He doesn't have the right words to articulate out loud why this matters to him, but your hesitation prompts a twinge in his chest. This is a thing that hurts you -- this place, the way it takes the way you look out of your control.

He threads your fingers together, brings them to his lips. ]

Please, don't hide from me.

[ Reassuring as your words are, they're still too small of a balm for how deep and cutting it is for your fiance to look like this. He manages to watch you kiss his fingers before his gaze drops from your face entirely. This vulnerability may remind you of that one time, long ago, when he had been wrung out and haunted by the attack on Falner Estate.

In some ways, the shake up of that incident is on the same magnitude as his Arcadian legacy is.

No words, but there is a mess of emotion - all dark and heavy and laden with memory - registering through the link between you now. ]

[ He's watching you now, down-turned gaze and all, the weight of your emotions prompting him to lean in and press a lingering kiss on your forehead.

He wishes he could tell you that you're safe now. That what is in the past is in the past. But that sounds trite, even to him. The bed and those chains has been sitting in that rotting corpse of a castle like they'd been moved in just yesterday.

He gently sets his forehead against yours. Eyes shut, teeth briefly worrying on his lower lip. ]

Nothing you could ever be -- then, now, whenever -- could make me love you less, babe.

[ A breath. ] I just want you to feel safe. To help you feel safe, however I can.

[ And he realizes, in that moment, that you always manage to do that somehow. Usually, all it takes at the end of it is for him to take that leap of faith, put himself in your arms, and let you help him.

There's a soft sigh into the air between you, but what follows is your boy minutely relaxing against you. ]

All right.

[ Still a bit too soft, that, but he'll be better soon? ]

[ He was ready to bend, to let it lie; to set this aside -- and then you say that and the ache in his heart abates. He brushes the tip of his nose against yours, eyes opening again, the look in them humbled, and perhaps a little frightened. ]

I love you so much. [ Whispering that now, over your mouth, his kisses coaxing, gentle, careful. ] I will always love you.

[ He says that often enough that the words could be worn thin -- but it rings with the certainty of a vow; one he is most definitely going to make official when all of this is over. ]

I love you too.

[ But he's averted his gaze, even if he was responsive enough to the way you were kissing him. This is difficult for your fiance. You are, in all likelihood, intimately aware of the possible reasons why.

He's no stranger to feeling unsettled and sick in his own skin, but it never really gets better. One only learns how to deal as best as one could. ]

[ He's watching you carefully, as your eyes move away from his. He had stepped into that room, had seen the bed and the chains. He doesn't need a reel of the events to get the idea of what was done to you.

He shifts, head ducking so that his lips press to the side of your neck, his hips pinning you in place. His fingers are tangling themselves up gently through your hair.

No words yet, just the soothing offer of his touch, those kisses, in the hopes that you'll relax in his arms.

This is your space. Both of yours. You're safe here. ]

[ His relief rushes out past his lips in the form of a ragged breath that tapers off into a tiny sigh. He's arching his neck now, letting you have a bit more ground to cover over his skin.

You're attempting to go ways, at least, towards making him feel good and getting him to enjoy himself with you. He can't help himself either, not with the way that he has, since he fell in love with you, been perfectly attuned to everything about you: the way you look, the way you smell, the sound of your voice. ]

[ He's shifting above you, aligning his body in a way to better allow him access. His hand has snuck between your bodies again, quietly undoing the buttons of your top and letting his fingers trace the skin underneath. ]

I love you, [ he settles for those words because they're a truth that won't change anytime soon.

He parts the folds of your clothing and lets his mouth move down, each press of his lips tender, but firm.

You are beautiful in ways he wishes he had the words to express, but since he can't, he thinks back to the numerous times that you made him smile, that he couldn't help but watch you.

The link formed between your minds is convenient, after all, and seeing the stones at Lady Shalim's court had given him an idea.

Do you remember that time he dropped by your room for your first night out on the town? He still remembers his discomfort and shock at seeing you naked. He hadn't knon then that his attraction towards you had already taken root.

There was also the time before that, in the mess of awkward confusion as you solidly prompted him to sit down again at King's Rest in the wake of memories he hadn't really meant to see: the weight of your hand on his shoulder, the look on your face; your smile.

Th first time you two made love, mixed in with his worry that you'd been out in the rain; how good your skin felt beneath his, and then a desire so strong to make you feel good and not fumble like a virgil teenager in the back of a car with no clue how to show you that he wanted you so much.

You have been so patient with him, so careful. Let him offer you the same patience and care now. ]

[ He sees, both through your mind and through his own, the specific moments that you're thinking back to, and something in him immediately clicks. Memory, see, isn't just about replaying the moment on a psychic screen: it's also about recalling the other sensory details that made up the experience. Your boy has always, always been a prisoner of his own senses.

He's unfolding a little more underneath you even as the weight of you - comforting and solid - is caging him on top of that bed and within your limbs, and kissing you back, in the moments that follow, with a bit more urgency.

He loves you and trusts you so damned much, it occasionally frightens him. But he hasn't seen a single reason to believe that he's done this in bad faith. ]

[ When you kiss him back, the sound that leaves him is caught between a moan and a sigh. He uses his tongue to coax yours out to play and his hands tremble as his fingers move to undo your pants, palm snaking beneath the fabric that serves as a barrier between your skin and his.

He breaks off just as he traces the length of you, forehead pressed to yours as his breathing turns labored. ]

Help me get you out of this? [ Saying that, even as he's moving his hand between the mattress and your back, all the better to tug at the waistband there.

I want to see every inch of you. That's murmured through the mental link, his blood up, his heart hammering as he remembers your playful banter on that second to the last night at what was once Ys.

It had been push and pull then, you and him. Teasing, baiting -- all to your mutual benefit. Just one of the many ways you've both found yourself coming together, even in a place as foreign and as unsettling as Arcadia. ]

[ It is equal parts intense, affirming and sweet to get that sort of response out of you, and to see that you're handling him in exactly the same way that you always have since the two of you became a couple. Still, there remains a fair amount of apprehension in him, dark and cutting around the warmth and love that you're trying to offer him. ]

Okay.

[ Trying is , though, to set that at the back of his mind as he's obediently following your lead. Both his need for you and the choking remnants of his apprehension and uncertainty, though, are killing any words that he might have followed that one before he can begin to speak them.

Perhaps, in the moments that follow, after his uniform and the few other layers beneath it have been tossed to the floor, you'll look at your fiance and realize that he is yet to look this shy and this insecure in your presence. He's looking away, cheek pressed to the mattress, blushing, trembling with anticipation, need, and just a bit of worry. The tattoos on his body move with silent fluidity over his skin, and the crimson glow of his eyes is faint and muted against the other sources of light scattered across the room. ]

Edited 2015-02-18 03:30 (UTC)

Oh, babe... [ He reaches for you, catches your chin with the first two fingers curled along the tender spot beneath and his thumb ghosing over your lips. He draws your face back his way, leaning closer, body near and braced over you. ] It's just me.

[ There is something so eerie and beautiful about you like this, like something out of one of those dreams that wake you up, restless and unable to slip back into sleep, but you were fairly sure that you couldn't call it a nightmare because you hadn't wanted to leave.

He fixes his gaze on yours, and maybe you'll see all the love and acceptance in his heart reflected there. He meant what he said to Makoto when he told the former Sin-Eater that he played for keeps. Nothing short of you telling him to go will make him -- and to be perfectly honest, he can't even promise that.

Leaning in to capture your lips again, his free hand's fingers gently tracing the jut of your hip, the line of your thigh. ] Don't hide from me, Hikaru.

[ You're safe here. Let him show you that. ]

[ But that's just it, isn't it? It is you, and he loves you so much. It's one thing to be the King of the Lightless Lands in a room full of friends, comrades, and people who practically see him as their god. It's another to be like this with no one else but you in the room, utterly exposed.

Still, the certainty in your words and the caress of your fingers over his skin blow holes right through the uncertainty, reminding him only of the precise effect that you have and always will have on him. ]

I'll... [ Pausing, swallowing. ] I'll try not to.

[ Maybe you'll be able to meet him halfway from there, and keep this particular part of his past from ever hurting him again. ]

That's more than enough, [ he smiles against your mouth and withdraws, mouth tracking a patient line of kisses down your chest. His hand is moving lower, curling around you again and tenderly caressing your shaft.

There's a reverence to the way he's paying attention to your body, lingering over your heart, the dip between your ribs, tue patch of skin over your navel. A lool crosses his features as he takes in the sight of the tattoo at your hip -- the kitsune amongst the higanbana, looking alive against the moonlight of your skin. ]

You're so beautiful, baby. So beautiful.

[ And there's the tiniest huff of relief leaving your boy's lips once your lips start their journey down his body. You'll also feel the way he arches up from those sheets, trying, instinctively, to respond to how nicely you're treating him. All of that, of course, breaks into a low moan the moment you have him in your fist.

He's blushing in earnest now that the fire you're stroking up in him is burning a good amount of that anxiety away. Thrown as he is now, it shouldn't be surprising that your words go right through him. ]

Stop saying things like that.

[ That is whined out, by the way, because he's swelling within your hand and it's messing with what remains of his resolve. It is so hard to be scared of exposing more of his vulnerabilities to you when you're doing such a terribly good job at making him want this. ]

[ There's a soft, pleased sound when you whine and he tightens his grip around you on the upstroke, mouth parting over the skin along the underside of your ribs before he rakes his teeth over your flesh. He he times the movement of his lips with the audible inhale as he breathes you in and then he's feeling you up again, with less pressure than just a moment ago. ]

And keep myself from seeing that flush on your skin? Never. [ He whispers. You're not quite full just yet -- but he can solve that.

He isn't paying attention to whether or not you're watching him now, but what you'll see is the way he traces his fingers over your erect cock before guiding it towards his mouth, tongue flicking out to taste the tip of you.

You'll also feel his consideration through the shared link, filters for thought dropped. He's wondering if he can just do this for a little while until you get... ah, comfortable, in his care. Cover you with kisses meant to both soothe and excite. There's no rush tonight, after all. ]

[ And every single thing you do in those moments sends a fresh wave of tremors down the entire length of your boy's body, making his fingers and toes curl into the sheets, eliciting more tiny, desperate cries. He's clearly torn now, between turning away or looking right at you.

If you're concerned about him not being as hard as he ought to be, that is changing rather quickly. ]

Josh...!

[ There is your name stuttered out in a delicious protest, and your fiance blushing even harder. He's fighting a losing battle against his own body, because it wants you to keep going no matter what Hikaru thinks on the matter. ]

Edited 2015-02-19 05:49 (UTC)

[ And perhaps it will be frustrating, how he makes the promise of a high only to pause and wait, as if to keep you in place. ]

Tell me what you want, Hikaru.

[ Murmuring that lovingly into the air, the heat in his gaze directed at just you, his breath warm over your skin.

He's made love to you with his mouth before, but you've never quite fucked his mouth hard before. Because he really would let you. Provided ( and this is an odd suggestion, not quite completely formed in visual from his mind to yours ) that maybe you both can negotiate that it will be only your hips that will be able to move. ]

I want you.

[ He's only wanted you for a considerable amount of time, and he is certain, beyond all other things, that he will continue wanting you even long after the two of you reach the end of the line. It's that singular need that fills his eyes as he looks up at you, begging, needy, more than a bit desperate. ]

I want to be yours, however you'd like to have me.

[ And he'd like to be able to be taken out of his own mind so that he can fully enjoy every second of you taking him the way you'd like to. ]

[ There's something about hearing a simple, heartfelt declaration like that. It's enough to bring him back to the here and now, you back against those pillows and these sheets; him, looking up at you and seeing the need in your eyes. ]

Hold onto me? [ It's not really a question so much as it is reassurance. He wants your fingers in his hair while he pleasures you for this first part; the steadying pressure of your palm against his scalp.

Pressing a kiss against the top of your thigh now, before he takes you in his mouth like you belong there, a low hum deep in his throat as he begins to suck you off. ]

[ He's only too happy to oblige, with one hand latching unto one of your shoulders and the other sliding over your scalp and through your hair, just as you had hoped. You'll feel the way the fingers on both hands tighten later on, accompanied by a moan that is as physical a sensation against your body as it is a sound in your ears.

It doesn't take all that long for him to swell a little more in your mouth, and grow hot and rock hard between your lips/against your tongue. The sounds that he makes at each pass on your part also increase in pitch: a direct reflection of how lost he's getting in you. ]

[ It drives him on -- the press of your fingers, the swell of your cock, those sounds from your lips. His hand is pumping your dick in almost counterpoint, pushing you higher, the grip of his hand firm and loving all at once.

Hold back until you can't anymore. The words pass from him to you and he surprises himself at the tone of it, more command than request.

Let him make you feel good. Let him take you out of your skin and towards somewhere else; something infinitely glorious. ]

[ You're going to be rewarded for that request with a whine of protest, and the sight of the expression on your boy's face breaking a little more, all knitted eyebrows and darkened gaze. Nevertheless, he's biting down on his bottom lip, and now actively trying to still the movement of his hips. It's not really working out for him, but he IS trying.

That works out admirably enough for him for a few minutes before he's finally slipping too far for him to recover. He's trembling even more than he was earlier now, whimpering into the mattress, shaking his head in blind, final resistance against the inevitable. The hand he has curled around your shoulder is digging its fingernails into your skin. The hand that was once in your hair has fallen away, and twisted its fingers up into the sheets.

He's so hard right now, it borders on painful. His cock is also twitching within the grip of your hand, and leaking with precum. ]

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