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

[ 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. ]

[ You are absolutely breathtaking to him right now. You make him hungry for the taste of your skin, and how glorious it will certainly feel once he can push himself into you. ]

Ask properly.

[ That's a low growl against the side of your face, topped off with his tongue lapping at the skin over your cheekbone. ]

[ The breath he takes in quivers into the air and there's a barest hint of a whine as he's pliant in your embrace.

Tilting his face a little, cheek resting against yours, so that his lips are close enough to your ear. ]

Please.

[ Please, he'll give you everything you ask for. ]

Go ahead.

[ Come: he'll even help you by taking you with rougher, decisive strokes. You've never had him get you off this intensely before.

This time, he doesn't kiss you. He moves back again, because he wants to watch you break apart. He wants to hear your voice. ]

[ And it must be a sight for you to see, Blade King: you boy laid out against those sheets, the lines of his body taut even as he moves in time to your ministrations. You've never touched him like this before, never pushed him this far -- and to think you're not even done.

Every breath taken in past his lips and expelled soon after is ragged. It is as if no matter how much air he sucks in, it is not nearly as satisfying as when he was drinking from your lips, breathing in what you were giving him. The jerk of his hips as he bucks against every stroke of your hand on him is erratic now; his face is flushed, beads of sweat clinging to his brow or slipping along the dips of muscle that make up his chest and stomach. Every inch of him is taut with need and he's also thinking, rather distantly, that the release will not be enough. He wants more.

This is how he looks the moment he breaks down, as he spills onto your hand and onto himself: that precise moment when he body bends like a bow, a sob of intense pleasure torn from his lips in the shape of your name and his eyes filled only with your visage.

The aftershocks will rock him for awhile. This is a first, and he knows you well enough to understand, that the night has barely started. ]

[ And while you're coming down from your high, he's moving the hand that he had used to get you off to your belly, where a bit of you has spilled on your own skin. He scoops some of that off with his fingertips, and then brings said fingertips (and the rest of his hand, really: it's covered in you) to his mouth.

You're going to get to watch him, then, as he laps your semen up, licking at his own skin in an almost feline fashion. He keeps his eyes on you that entire time, and keeps the grip he has on your wrists in place.

Don't worry. You're being allowed to recover because he does want to clean up. ]

[ He's a bit too speechless to do much else than watch you while you do that for a while. It's criminal, really, how beautiful you are. And recover? Really? He's watching you lap up his cum and you think that's actually going to help him recover? ]

Kiss me? [ At least he's recovered enough to reach for you -- or try to, in any case.

He wants you closer. Needs you, really. ]

[ Have a crooked smile, just as he's removing his thumb from his own mouth. ]

No. That would be indulging you too much. Besides, I want to be able to hold you down properly while I fuck you.

[ He says those last few words as he moves his hand back over your cock. He gives it one good squeeze before letting his finger trace underneath of it, and then lets said fingers roam even further down, where he can slip them between the sheets and your body, right up against the curve of your ass. ]

I wonder... should I take you from the front for the first time, or take you from behind?

[ His body responds quicker than he can think, a soft, cut-off whine leaving him so quickly he only registers once it's cut through the air. It's soft, strangled, not quite a moan; more an exhale of desire wrapped with need. There's also a flash of mad white lust going through him, legs parting of their own volition as he's pushing up against your hand while his torso sinks further into those sheets.

He's trembling now -- but he never did stop, did he? It's like his skin is so tight -- to tight -- around the whole of him. And he can feel the twitch of his cock in response to your touch.

Did you really have to ask that last question? He's flushing now. What a sight he must make, looking like he's torn between answering and keeping his mouth shut.

He'll keep his mouth shut for now. ]

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