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

[ For a moment -- a very brief one -- when you catch his chin and make it so that he can focus on nothing else but the unique color of your eyes, he actually can't breathe. ]

Yes.

[ He accompanies that murmur with the way he rises up to bridge the space between you, arms wrapping tighter around your torso so that your bodies are pressed so terribly close. ]

Yes, [ he's trembling, even as he dips lets his tongue tease at your lips.

What is it about you that you've invaded every last inch of him? ] I'm sure.

[ And it's both frightening and humbling, to have that trust placed in him. Odd, really: you felt the same way when he told you, earlier this year, that could have his way with him for the first time, didn't you?.

The last thing you'll see before he takes your mouth with his own again is the expression in his eyes: it's dark with want, and with intentions that the Blade King is often hesitant to show any of his lovers precisely because of how much they mean to him. Maybe there won't be time to dwell on that, though, with the way that he's kissing you now: hungry, demanding, and uncompromising. He'll keep kissing you, in fact, even as he reaches out, hooks his limbs about your limbs, and brings you down on the mattress with breathtaking ease before settling his body over yours like he belongs there.

You cage him in place often enough, or had him hover over you. This time feels rather different.

No explanations yet, though. He wants to kiss you senseless. ]

Edited 2015-02-15 16:34 (UTC)

[ There is a sound of pleasure mixed in with surprise when you do that and he reels from what feels like a like of proper oxygen to his brain. He's not complaining in the least. On the contrary, you'll feel him submit: muscles relaxing, his body giving way as you pin him down and tangle your limbs together.

His hands have moved up, up into your hair, fingers threading through the strands and curling possessively for what feels like too brief a moment before they go slack.

God, you're such an amazing kisser and you taste so utterly good.

He could let you do this all night and not mind in the least. As if he could ever mind at all. ]

[ And you're going to feel the way he smiles against your mouth at first- and then he proceeds to top every succeeding deep kiss with a smaller one that worries just at your bottom lip. He also never closes his eyes, because he's intent on watching your face.

Once you're dropping your hands from his hair, he's shifting, trapping your hips between his knees and wrapping your wrists up with his own hands. He's smiling again, by the time he finally breaks away. He also has both of your wrists crossed together and pinned above your head with just one of his hands.

Tilting his head now, like he's appraising the sight of you beneath him as he reaches out to trace the shape of your lips with his free thumb. ]

Let me take a page out of your book and be the one to tell you how beautiful you are this time. [ He's hooking his thumb on your bottom lip now, and coaxing your mouth open so that he can graze your tongue with just the tip of his finger. ] Because of that, I think I'd like to spend tonight fucking this body of yours until you won't be able to do anything else but moan my name, or beg.

Edited 2015-02-15 17:02 (UTC)

[ There's some initial resistance to the way you pin his arms overhead, but largely because while you two have engaged in a variation of power play, you've always put yorself in his care -- even during the first time you came together, inexperienced as he was. It's always been about meeting halfway.

You might be satisfied to note the way he only just manages to look back up at you, given the assault you've decided to wage over his mouth; eyes dark and needy, jaw tightening briefly as he complies.

You have him down now, caged the way he normally cages you, and he is acutely aware of the ache building between his legs. The weight of your gaze makes him swallow. You've watched him before yes, but something's different about tonight. And when his lips part in response without question, he can't help but wonder why it's gotten more difficult to just breathe. ]

Okay. [ His voice sounds surprisingly meek as he's wetting his lips both in nervousness and anticipation. You'll get all of that through the link. You'll also get the sense of underlying wonder that, put simply, is your fiancee being reminded again that you being incredibly decisive and ruthless is such. a. fucking. turn-on. ]

[ There's an arch of an eyebrow at that, and an amused quirk of his lips. Thoroughly fucking somebody in order to show them exactly how much and how well you love them requires a delicate balance of cold control and wild abandon. All of this is a start. ]

Just 'okay'?

[ By the way: the hand that was teasing your mouth is shifting downward, so that you might feel the familiar shape and texture of his palm skimming down your neck, tracing the outline of your chest, and settling over your belly. ]

Don't you want to see how I've always wanted to make you mine?

Edited 2015-02-16 04:06 (UTC)

[ The feel of your hand as it moves over his skin prompts a sharp intake of breath on his part. The muscles of his stomach flex, tightening under your fingers as if bracing for what you might do next. Given how close the both of you are, it'll be easy for you to see the precise way that his pupils dilate, as well as the faint flush at the tips of his ears when you ask him that question.

He wants this. He's wanted this for a while, and just didn't know how to arrange fantasy down to coherent thought, much less articulate into actual words. Please understand that his hesitation has nothing to do with you and everything to with the fact that he's not sure what to do with himself.

You're right when you said that he figured himself straight for a long, long time. It was a logical assumption to make on his part, especially since there hadn't been anything to hint at an attraction to other guys -- which, mind you, is a difficult thing to ignore given the lack of personal space and modesty in a team locker room.

He does know with irrefutable certainty that he wants you, and he is willing to explore anything you think of tossing his way. What better way is there, after all, to test at boundaries than with the person who has made it plenty clear that they will readily burn the world to the ground for you at the slightest provocation. ]

I, uh. [ Breathe. Breathe.. Remember that you can actually string more than two syllables together, LaRue. ] Yes.

Yes, I want to know.

[ He has to tear his gaze away from where your hand is, though fat lot it does because not looking does very little for how his thoughts veer towards how he knows the precise shape of you when he has you in his grip, what it's like to tie you up and hold you down; how it was you who walked him through each experience in the bedroom: always reassuring, patient and understanding of the way ( he might feel ) he's fumbled through.

His heart rate's picked up. He's also doing his best not to let his gaze stray from your face because... well. He can feel you. You are straddling him. It's kind of difficult to miss. ]

Hikaru, [ he can barely hear himself. ] Please.

[ Take him however you like ( he really doesn't fucking mind ) but the suspense is killing him. ]

[ And those words are, honest to Elaine, music to his ears, as is your heart rate at that very moment. It makes him want to see what he needs to do in order to excite you a little more, or draw that specific sort of "please" from your lips again --

-- wait. Who is he kidding? He knows exactly how.

Leaning in now, close enough so that this time, you can feel the amused/pleased curve of his lips against your jaw, before he's letting his tongue trace the line from your chin up until your right ear. He'll then trace said ear, nice and slow, and end it by nibbling, for a few seconds, on the top curve.

He loves the fact that you blush right down to the tips of your ears, by the way. Oh, and the hand he had over your belly was massaging the skin there for a little bit before it moved down, to trace the waistline of the pants you are wearing just once prior to decisively tugging them off, together with your underwear.

After he's brought his nose close to the top of your head and breathed the scent of you in: ]

Be a darling, love, and help me remove the rest of your clothes. I'd like to start to get to know you again right down to your asshole.

[ You know how quiet he gets when he's overwhelmed? He's pretty sure he passed that point the moment you had him on his back, and now that you have him, it seems, right where you've wanted him for a while, he's moving onto breathing quietly through his lips because there just isn't enough oxygen getting to his head.

You feel so good, close as you are, even if all you've done is minimal at best. He'll help you with his clothes all right, quiet as he is, focused as he is on willing himself not too rush like an awkward teenager even if the result is the same: him, flushed and naked and painfully aware that you are treated to just how hard he managed to get during thay brief exchange.

If his throat had gone dry earlier, his mouth hasn't. It's a strange combination really, because yes, you have him trapped beneath you, you are also clearly the one currently calling the shots but his thoughts are going to the way you taste and feel in his mouth.

Swallowing now. He should reply to you, right? But the most he can manage is a half-stuttered attempt at an 'I, uh' and his lips closing again. ]

[ You'll hear him chuckle from above your head, low and amused. ]

You're so cute when you're absolutely speechless.

[ It's a rare treat, really, given how ridiculously glib you can be. Time to make sure that you never get back to that point tonight, then.

He shifts now that your pants and underwear are completely off, nudging your legs further apart with his knees. Then he takes a moment out to lift himself up and away from you, beyond the hand that he has locked around your wrists. He shifts his other hand away from your stomach, and moves it between your legs --

-- but right before you think that he's going to feel you up, he shifts his palm to your left thigh, in order to skim over that smooth, muscled plane. He starts massaging it, making sure that his fingers graze close to your crotch without actually reaching your balls or your hardening cock.

He'll watch you as he does this, from where he's up in the air above you. ]

[ You pull away and it's as if there's far too much space between you're bodies. Rare is the occassion that he's felt like this; then again, he's its not as if he's usually on the receiving end of things when you're both tangled in bed.

His attention turns to your hand when it becomes obvious that you're only getting close enough for it to promise the possibility of you touching him, only to pull away.

Impatience has never written itself out so plainly on your boy's features the way it's doing so now. It's in the frown between his brows, the way his lips part, just enough for him to suck in air, in the set of his jaw when he has to press those lips closed in order to swallow.

It is also, you might note in the way his hips shift, as if he's both trying to figure out a way to get you closer, and yet he's holding back because he did agree to put himself in your care.

No sound from this one, other than the shuddered intakes of breath everytime your hand moves away. ]

Edited 2015-02-17 02:16 (UTC)

[ He enjoys this so much because he usually makes it a point to be indulgent: the moment you ask in the past, he gives. Now he's wondering if he should do this more often, because it's delicious what leaving you wanting seems to do to your body and to the look on your face.

Bending down to take your lips again, in a quiet demand for your mouth to open wide for his and spar with your tongue. That's matched with how his hand shifts, and it only ghosts itself over your cock before settling on your right inner thigh, and massaging it in the same way that he had with your left. ]

[ There's a soft sound that leaves him as he parts his lips to receive you, one that's matched with the way he tries to push up from the bed, and the way the muscles along his arms have tensed as he tests the grip you have on his wrists.

He's always been big on touch. The fact that he can't touch you with his hands is prompting him to compensate with the ones he can: his mouth, his tongue on yours.

There's a hitch in his breath when he feels you come close to touching him, and for a moment, he breaks off from kissing you, settling back to lifting his lips to yours not long after. ]

Touch me, please?

[ He knows, even as the words leave him, that it's likely a useless thing to ask. But you're killing him slowly like this and his cock has hardened even more, as if straining for your hand to take it. ]

[ He was keenly aware of your little internal struggle even before you said anything. As such, Hikaru only goes back to kissing you, and let that go on up until that point where he can feel you really start to get into it. Then he's withdrawing, keeping his face in those critical inches that are - given your current position - too far for you to reach. ]

Not yet.

[ Really: you look lovely like this. ]

[ His breathing is labored when you pull back and he follows you as far as he can, the tendons along his neck tensing as he swallows.

You've never felt so close and so far at the same time. It won't kill him but damn if it isn't driving him a little nuts. ]

Babe, [ that's whispered, low and a little pleading. ] I need you.

[ Kiss him again, come closer. You don't have to touch him if you don't want to yet, but he needs your lips over his own. ]

[ He laughs quietly at your words, and moves his free hand up to stroke the side of your face, lingering, for a moment or so, in your hair. Then he's bending low and just at the side of your head to speak into your ear, moving his lips right at the delicate curb of skin there. ]

I'll indulge you with what you want - touching you, kissing you, fucking you - on one condition: you will ask me for permission to cum.

[ There is something that you've never done with him before. ]

[ You'll hear the way he stops breathing for a little bit, when you get close, and then feel the way he turns his face so that his cheek touches yours.

Give him a moment. He's trying to actually process what you're telling him because he's not... quite sure how that's supposed to work. This isn't something either of you have done before, but never let it be said that he wasn't willing to comply.

He wets his lips again, hunger in his eyes as he offers a nod. ] Whatever you want.

[ He wants this too. His curiosity is also getting the better of him. He still remembers the feel of your finger stroking the crack of his ass. ]

[ Smiling at you, and peering intently at you this entire time. He's always loved how honest you can end up being with him, especially when it's the two of you tangled together, under the sheets. ]

And that is one of the many reasons why I love you. You're so indulgent.

[ The approval is plain in his voice as he withdraws again, so that he's hovering over you and well out of your reach once more. Then he's letting his palm smooth itself over the full length of your body just once before he's finally cupping your balls, massaging each of them, then curling his fingers around your dick.

If this was any other night, he'd be thinking about how your cock is going to fit into him. Right now, though, feeling how hard you are is thinking about how hard he's becoming, and how well his cock is probably going to fit into you.

Turning his head briefly to kiss the side of your face. ]

You can control yourself, can't you? Or you can try to, anyway.

[ For me?

That's whispered into your head. It might feel a bit like the telepathic version of fingers smoothing over the ridges of your spine.

Mind magic is so useful. ]

[ He shivers in response, a quiet sound muffled behind the lips he's pressing together. His forehead drops to your shoulder ( or tries to, anyway; you're close... close enough for him to try. ) You'll feel the way he shifts under your grip, muscles tensing more in anticipation than anxiety as he attempts to make himself comfortable on that bed.

The nervousness eventually creeps back though, to prompt a soft: ] I... I don't -- I'll try.

[ Soft, a little shy. He can't seem to get his mind off how all the blood seems to have sunk to one particular part of his body. ]

[ Well, well, well: Senior Operative Joshua LaRue, stammering and nervous and endearingly shy. That's something that hasn't happened in a long time. Neither has this: you writhing the way that you are beneath him. You trying to hide away.

There's an amused noise from your boy's end now. ]

Good answer.

[ Those words are low and approving as he strokes your cock. Up and down and topped off with a squeeze close to the base of your cock or a lazy swirl of his thumb over the circumference of your tip, nice and slow --

-- is it nice for you, though, or a little frustrating? Given that he seems to be taking his time. ]

I think I'll tie you up later, and make sure that you can't turn away from me.

[ After his pressed his fingers into you. After he's fucked you for the first time, because he knows himself well enough to know that he may need to do you in for several more rounds after if there's time for that --

-- wait. Who is he kidding? He'd like to be able to fuck you just as much as he'd like you to fuck him. ]

[ Breathing through parted lips is clearly the only option he has right now if he actually wants to get enough air to his brain.

He feels like he's taut and tense all over. There really isn't anything to worry about where it comes to keeping his word to you, right? He did say he'd do his very best and try.

There's a shudder going through him when he feels the way you're feeling him up, as he licks his lips because his throat has gone bone-dry, and he's discovering, to his detriment, that turning his gaze from your face has drawn his attention to the way your hand is folded around him.

He's also belatedly registering those words, and when he does, it's as if the room is both a little too large and yet so stifling.

Tie him up? The idea is enough to send his heart pounding back in his ears. His eyes have flicked up to you now. You're not... serious, are you?

Who is he kidding. Of course you are. Turning the tables only seems fair. He's tied you up his fair share ( at your request, but still. ) ]

[ Oh, love: you look so thirsty. It's a good thing that he actually wants to kiss you.

And yes. Yes, just because there was that tiniest smidgen of disbelief on your part, it needs to be said. He's serious.

Anyway, he's kissing you now and matching the way he seizes your lips with his and drinks from your mouth/teases your tongue with how he's working you up. The pace he sets is just quick enough to drive you up the wall without actually taking you any higher. He wants to see how far he can push you before you snap.

He's not worried about his own ability to stay strong and not cave. He's a man of great patience, and besides: it's been a lovely treat, doing these things to you.

Here is his voice again, warm and dark, just over your mouth as he's looking straight into your eyes. ]

Haven't you ever wondered how it must feel?

[ Because he wants to be helpful, you are getting flashes through that telepathic link. They're all snippets of sensation: the intimate bite of leather pulling taut around your wrists, the whisper of silk over your eyes, the snug fit of a rubber ball between your lips. And of course, underscoring all of that, the thrill of anticipation, the rush of pleasure and release that comes with patience/denial. ]

[ If he thought that the feel of your mouth back on his would help -- it really doesn't.

As it is, he finds himself shifting beneath you, unable to keep his hips from following the rhythm of the way you're pleasuring him. His breaths are shorter as he attempts to match the thrust of your tongue ( he's not doing as good as he normally does, this is overwhelming; he can barely move, the way you still have him held fast ) and the impatient whine that borders close to a sob is breathed into the space between you both once you pull back just enough to fix your gaze on his.

His fingers have just curled into tight fists, the white noise building in his head.

( There's a brief spike of denial from his end, but it comes as quickly as it goes. The leather and the silk, he's more than fine with that, was actively hoping it would cross your mind. But the borrowed memory of a rubber ball between lips makes him tense in a mix of 'wait, I've seen that, no, I don't want to remember that I saw that' -- there was that bleed between him and Makoto, once upon a time -- and tentative curiosity.

Your boy, it appears, is not immune to incredibly mild moments of irrational jealousy borne from the lack of knowing what he is willing and not willing to try. He knows he's shy and awkward about these things. They're not exactly conversation pieces that you can just bring up on the fly. But yes, that ball gag? It makes him nervous. He didn't expect it to feel like that, even if those flashes are more yours than his.

Oddly enough, he's not totally averse to trying. This is you. He trusts you. He'd readily put himself in your care. ]

[ He's noting down all of that, and admittedly? He's enjoying the fact that you are willing, that he is bringing you down this far. The one good indicator of how pleased he is by this situation will be in the way that he's started to smile into the kisses that you're both sharing, on the occasions that he decides to break away and watch your face.

Yes, he's going to ignore how needy you sound/how the rest of you is begging in a multitude of small ways for him to do him in. He sticks with that pace, because he eventually will be able to get you to a point where you're going to spill over; it's just going to be a long and agonizing road for you.

No big deal, right? Because you love him. ]

[ He holds out for as long as he can, which right now, doesn't feel like very long because you know exactly how to touch him, how to get him worked up, and he's actually never felt his body pushed this far before.

He can barely match your kisses and he's stopped fighting against the hand you have on his wrists. He's also slumped back against the sheets, limbs trembling, a light sheen of sweat coating his skin.

It feels like his head is closing in on itself, and everything else has fallen away except for the way you look and smell and feel, around him. ]

Hh... [ try that again, Josh. ] H-Hikarnnngg--! [ His head drops back against the pillows as he feels his hips jerk helplessly in order to better fuck his cock into your palm. His gaze has also turned to some indeterminate point off to the side. He'd form words if he could, but given the labored manner of his breathing, you've robbed him of that. ]

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