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

[Okay. Not quite the reaction he had been expecting. But it looked like a good thing? Maybe...?]

What's so funny?

[ Sinking to the floor now, eyes still fixed on yours, the look in them suddenly as helpless as it is happy. ]

Class.

On Wednesday.

[ You know. Lit13. The one you happen to teach? ]

[Oh.

Oh right.

How did he forget about that?

Chuckling as well, as he's crouching down in front of you. (It's incredibly hard to resist the urge to reach out and touch you again, by the way.)]

I'll try not to be too distracted by you.

[He's... not sure how Josh is going to take that. Probably well? Hopefully well?

Excuse him, he's still in shock at how - well, no, it wasn't easy, but he wasn't expecting anything good to happen at all.]

[ Odd isn't it. This somewhat feels like déjà vu. ]

The problem isn't you, remember?

[ Funny how, in hindsight, that exchange of theirs sounds so loaded now, given how things turned out.

He drops his gaze, reaches tentatively for Hikaru's hand and slips his fingers through the other man's.

Chuckling now. ] How does that even work? I have a thing for my hot, younger teacher.

[ Yes. That is an admission that he does find you attractive. Has, for awhile now, but just couldn't admit it. ]

Edited 2014-03-10 07:14 (UTC)

[Letting you do that, of course, without a lick of hesitation.]

I'm sure you'll figure it out.

[You did say that you wanted him to treat you like an adult, right? Take responsibility.

Also, lightly tugging at that hand.]

The bed's more comfortable, you know.

I know, [ his eyes glancing away for a second before he pushes himself off the floor and letting you lead him over.

He hesitates before sitting down, but he does. And his hand hasn't let go of yours. ]

[This one doesn't seem to mind (although Mitsuru seems to: the kitten mewls once, and hops off after one anxious turn around the both of you). As things stand, he's letting you do that and using his free hand to set his cigarettes and the ashtray down on the floor, easily accessible to you both. It's one of the perks of having a low bed.

Since he's keeping himself busy with that, he's pretty quiet. Also seems rather focused in. Well. Suddenly having to play host to somebody in his room at an unholy hour of the morning.

Let's not think about the warmth of that palm, or the lingering memory of those two kisses, eh?]

[ Let it be said that the silence is making him just a little nervous. It's not that he's uncomfortable with it, more that weighted silences have never been part of your regular exchange. Either you or him always had something witty to say, but the moment doesn't seem to call for that -- and to be honest, he's just at a loss because huh.

So this is going to be a thing? Maybe?

That is his thumb doing absent, quiet circles over the side of your hand then. Because really, this one is speechless and unlike you, he has no reservations thinking about those two kisses.

He's thinking about them right now. Maybe that's why his ears are pink? ]

[Yeah, that's just a little hard to ignore. A little.

Okay. More like next to impossible.

Inevitably, of course, he's run out of things to do. That means that he's finally turning in your direction. You're both sitting pretty close together, close enough for your knees to touch if one of you so much as shifted.

That isn't the only thing that's distracting him. He really ought to be more disciplined about not staring at your lips first, before your eyes, or anything else for that matter.

Trying to cover that up now.]

Sorry about earlier. I really hope you're feeling better.

[Well, no shit, Blade King. He must be, right? What a dumb thing to say.]

[ Looking over at that, quiet at first and then smiling shyly: ]

I am.

[ Leaning over--

--and then chickening out and going for that pack of cigarettes instead. Because. This is hard, okay. He has literally no point of reference for this sort of thing. ]

[Right. Clearly he has to be a little more... was 'aggressive' the word for it? That was exaggerating it a bit. Either way, it is kind of cute, and did make him wonder why he was even hesitating in the first place. Cute enough, at any rate, to have Hikaru watching you with a smile for just a heartbeat before he's reaching out with his other hand, tilting your chin up and leaning in.

Unlike you, LaRue, he doesn't chicken out. Have another slow kiss, and this time there's the barest hint of tongue.]

[ He'd be lying if he said that he wasn't hoping for that. Josh would have leaned in for the kiss himself, but like previously said, he has no reference point for anything like this. Back before he even had any idea that he would end up a Sin-Eater ( or that his mother was a Technomancer on the run from TFV ) he'd been too focused on getting his football career off the ground, raising Cindy and looking out for his dad.

It wasn't that he hadn't been interested in people, it just felt like there wasn't time for that, and most of the girls at college had always seemed to wait on him, or anyone dragged into a group date would back off after it became clear that his family came first, his game second -- and really, his end-goal was for Cinds and Dad anyway -- his boys and finishing school a very close third and everything else came after all that.

Annie Finnick had been the odd exception, their friendship something that fell naturally into place after he'd talked her back from that rooftop ledge; and they'd had individual goals to see to first anyway so whatever time they'd had together was often brief and never demanded anything from each other.

He supposes that he'd pictured things falling into place somehow, at the time it had felt likenthere would be time, but then he'd gotten sick and well, the rest was pretty much history.

When Hikaru's fingers catch his chin, he just goes with the flow. They've already kissed twice -- the first, broken off because okay, that had been rushed on his part, impulse, really, and the other man had been surprised. As for the second, Josh had seen it coming, but he'd been unprepared, given the lead up into the moment, high emotions and all.

This time, he's a little bit more prepared, meeting the Blade King halfway as he straightens up.

And then there's that hint of tongue and his brain kind of just... fizzles out.

Yep. That is most definitely a hitch in his breath as his lips part in surprise, one hand latching onto the sheets of the bed while the other just... sort of grasps at thin air. ]

[That reaction earns you a quiet laugh right against your lips, and a pair of violet eyes - light and narrow with amusement - fixing on your face before he's kissing you the same way all over again. He focuses, of course, on easing you into it, into showing that yes, this could be fun, and yes, you are more than welcome to follow his pace or try to set a new one for the both of you.

His free hand is crawling across the mattress, and eventually coming to a stop right over the hand that you have on the sheets. The fingers he had on your chin have migrated, ghosting over your cheek, slipping into your hair. Both movements let him come in a little closer.

In related news, he is realizing just how much he likes your taste. It's all he could do to not deepen the gesture. No need to go too fast, right? ...Right?]

[ And he's shifting closer right back because now that he's getting some sense of the rhythm you've set, he doesn't feel like he's going to fumble around too much. So yes, his other hand has finally found a comfortable place at your knee, and he is leaning in, bridging the space between you both because as near as you two are, you still feel really far away.

On the mattress, he's twining his fingers tentatively with yours because the taste of you is making him a little light-headed and he needs something to hold onto still. ]

[It's only after he notes all of that down that he deepens the way he's kissing you. Whenever he breaks away for air, his breath is short: he's no longer looking at you. Closing his eyes gives him more to go around, because the truth of it is, his thoughts have been far too full of you lately.

What little distance there remains between the two of you is starting to feel like way too much. There are many possible solutions to this, but he wants to wait on some sort of signal from your end. You are, after all, just gaining your bearings.

But hell: you smell glorious, you taste wonderful, and you look so damned fine it's starting to cut straight to the gut for him.]

[ Well, since you keep on coming up for air, what else is a guy to do but follow, right?

He's not slow on the uptake, this one, and the pressure of your mouth on his is a welcome feeling; so Josh does chase those lips, shifts closer, the hand on that knee now migrating to your waist, fingers curling on your shirt because dammit, Hikaru, please, quit pulling back. ]

[And that's the only real signal he needed.

There's a simple solution to this persistent problem of distance: it involves him breaking away and worrying at your bottom lip just so with his teeth, and then matter-of-factly lifting himself right unto your lap. Then he's reaching up to hold your face in his hands and going back to kissing you all over again.

You may notice, now that his weight is on you and both of your limbs and your bodies are shifting together/against each other, that he's trembling just a little bit. That is from the fact that the feel of your hands on him is making his mind go down all sorts of interesting places, and his proximity to you isn't helping. It is also from the sheer amount of effort it takes for him to hold back and focus on doing nothing else but this.]

Edited 2014-03-10 17:09 (UTC)

[ There is an interesting sound that leaves Josh at this point: it's somewhere between a sharp intake of breath and the following exhale that hitches with a soft hum coming from deep in his chest. When his lips part in response to your worrying at his bottom lip, he feels the tug of gravity -- partly because your weight on him takes him by surprise, and partly because the presence of you sets him off-balance in a way that just feels natural.

Hands now coming to your waist, skimming around your back because he needs something to hold onto and because he can feel the tremors going through you and his first thought is to wonder if you're okay.

You feel tense, and the instinct is to press the weight of his palms along where that tension is most obvious -- right beneath your shoulderblades and along the small of your back. ]

[And he's arching more than a little into your touch because he wants more of it. He can't really stifle the way he gasps a little against your mouth, nor can he stop the way it tapers off into a tiny, needy little noise.

He shouldn't have gotten turned on this quickly. He's supposed to possess a lot more control than this, especially since he had, until the plans had fallen apart, been ready to start letting you go. And yet you're here, and he's here, and it's all he can do to keep his head level.

The next few kisses he gives you are a little more urgent, and the only reason why he stops is because he's too short of breath now, too short of everything but you. Nevertheless, he's keeping his forehead pressed against yours, and the look on his face has so much want in it, it's probably dangerous.]

Edited 2014-03-10 17:50 (UTC)

[ There are far too many things catching Joshua by surprise tonight -- Stanley slipping up, Makoto clueing him in, his own sudden realizations ( or perhaps, not-so-sudden after all, given the way he'd readily marched up to your room with the intention of getting the truth of things straight from the source ) -- but of all of that, the look on your face is the one he likes best because he's not dumb, he knows what want looks like and it's written all over your features.

It gives him courage to lean in, slant his head to a certain angle so he can capture that mouth again, the slightest shift of his hips because he can feel the press of you against him and he's not about to try to deny or hide that he's just as turned on.

So yes, he's the one taking the lead this time, and while the motions of his mouth are tentative at first, he's a quick study on how you'd made him feel and he's ready to test if he can give as good as he's gotten so far. ]

Don't stop, [ his voice is low, barely a whisper, and there's a twist in his tone that matches the building ache between his legs as he remembers that first time he'd ever heard something close to the sounds you've been making: King's Rest, a flash of memory that he knew wasn't his -- only then he hadn't known what the hell to do about it; he does now though. ] Hikaru, please don't stop.

[There was still so many things they needed to discuss, things they needed to sort out. He really, really ought to care about those a little more.

Instead, though, the only things that are demanding his attention is the way your voice hums in what little air there is between the two of you, the feel of your breath on his face/the heat of your body/your hands, how you sound.

Have a quiet chuckle over your mouth, one that's closer to a huff of air than anything else.]

Are you sure you don't want me to?

[ He doesn't know why the air is so thick, or why his eyes are just focused on that mouth and the way you sound, all the while the ache is building enough that his stomach is taut, because if he breathes any more he thinks it will only make it worse. His hands have gone still against your spine, one higher than the other and close to your nape because one of the very first things that he wants right now is the chance to run his fingers along the curve of your scalp before he buries his face in your neck.

The first thing he does though, is to catch your mouth with his again, the arm around your waist tightening to press your hips right up against his. There's a low noise as he kisses you hard, and if he seems a little desperate, then maybe it's because he just is.

You see, Josh knows about the ink on your skin beneath the fabric of your clothes, has the memory of the sound you might make as he nips with the barest hint of teeth along the underside of your jaw, the angle of your neck. And when his hands move now, in tandem to mold the length of your body to fit against his own, he lets gravity take hold so that his back hits the bed, because he wants the weight of you over him to anchor him down. ]

[That sucks the breath right out of him, because there are suddenly so many other things that he's aware of now. The most significant detail out of the entire lot, of course, is the fact that the two of you seem to fit so damned well together.

He dips his head down again, to catch your mouth with his. He keeps his arms braced on either side of your head, because balance is a thing and hell, maybe it'll give you more leeway to do as you like to him. (He's hoping you will, since now he is sure that this is something you both want right now.)

It's been too damned long since the last time, and in retrospect? That "last time" he had had been a farewell rather than a beginning.]

[ When Hikaru's mouth meets his again, Josh realizes, that maybe he could kiss this man for hours and forget about everything else, even if just for a while. His hands are moving again at this point, down past the just of those hips and over the curve of that ass to press him up close, even as his voice hitches, and he breaks away briefly before he rears up his head so that their lips touch again.

There is a particular flavor to the way that you taste, he'd caught himself wondering about it in the first half of the twenty minutes that you were gone that first night at Hyve, the rings in your possession. He'd pushed it away at the time, had occupied himself in some other fashion because the thought had been quick, and easily pushed aside in favor of worrying about what was taking you both so long.

He's latching onto that now, studying carefully with each meeting of lips, the shape and texture of you, the way your tongue slides against his own, one leg coming up to keep you in place as he squirms a little beneath you, because he can feel you pressed up against him and now his mind is moving through the images of you both tangled together, places swiched, him hovering over you; pinning you down. ]

[And each slide of your palm against his body awakens every nerve underneath the skin on those spots, making him think, not-so-decently, that this would be so much better if he wasn't wearing anything at all.

Now there's a thought, isn't it? It's more than enough to drive him up the wall.

He's sinking even lower now, because the only thing he wants now is to be as impossibly close to you as possible. Your kisses are marred by the raggedness of his breath, and muffling the occasional noises of need that bubbling up from his throat.]

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brb dying

I GUESS... PLANNED TOPICS OF DISCUSSION HAPPENING LATER...

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