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

[ And Josh is sending a look your way, no smile, a somber look in his eyes. ]

That's twice now.

[ He lights up; and he smiles this time, though the look in his eyes stays the same. ]

Gotta break that habit.

Edited 2014-04-01 19:26 (UTC)

I'm working on it.

[And it seems as though you're helping a whole lot in that direction. That seems to be what the look on his face is telling you, at that moment.]

Just... try to be patient with me. It's going to take a while.

Edited 2014-04-02 06:34 (UTC)

[ And he's tilting his head to one side, before he's reaching over to catch your hand. ]

Okay.

[ Threading your fingers through his now. ]

[He gives your hand a tight squeeze in return, and admittedly? It's a little harder than it should be. He's still too grateful, too happy to have you with him. He's also not feeling all that stable, or that good about anything, most especially himself.

There's that twist to his lips again, one that you might be becoming increasingly familiar with. The one that tells you that there's something he wants, and he's holding back on it all over again because he's worried, maybe even scared, of what will happen if he expresses it out loud. Couple that with the way he can't look in your direction and how the expression on his face is an uncomfortable mix of apologetic and shy, and... well. Maybe you could guess at what all of that means.

The rain's the only sound in the area. Mitsuru was around earlier, but it seemed as though someone has taken charge of the kitten tonight.]

[ And because of that, this is Josh slipping his hand out of yours for a moment, just so that he can go and kill his cigarette.

It's not that he means to take his time, he just needs to calibrate, to let the look on your face actually sink in, because you just have that kind of affect on him.

He's equally shy, you know. He knows literally nothing other than following your lead ( that first night, the weight of you against him, the taste of you on his lips ) and hoping that he's making you feel as good as you do him.

He's coming back now, closing the distance between you both and wrapping his arms around you as he presses his nose against your shoulder.

You will also hear, the distinct sound of the latch of your door locking into place.

He's liking how his powers can be so useful. ]

Ask.

[He heard that, all right, and if you put that together with the way you've put close to no distance between you (which means, of course, that he can feel the precise way that your body fills the air against his own, and can catch, once more, the way you smell)...

Does he feel all sorts of helpless and out of order? Yes. That might be why the way he reaches out for you - how he slides his arms around your neck, and lets his fingers over the nape of your neck and through your hair - is careful and hesitant.

You know how bad he is at asking for what he really wants.]

I...

[Trailing off, because his need for you is choking him up. This is a little terrifying.]

[ And he's skimming one hand up your back, the other drawing you close as he turns his face into your neck.

Again. Because 'breaking bad habits', right? He wants you to feel like you can ask things of him, to know that he is never one to get angry for the wonderful, giving things you just do. ]

Ask.

[ His lips brush by your ear now, and you'll feel the way he's tense along the shoulders. Waiting. ]

[You'll feel the way he shivers after you do that. It's getting a bit too warm in here - funny, given the weather.]

Stay with me tonight? Please?

[That's a breathless and helpless plea against your lips, after he's withdrawn to just look at you with far too many emotions in his eyes. Even after this conversation, a part of him is still scared that you're going to say no. That you're not going to want this.]

[ He'll take that. He'll take that and show you how okay it is for you to ask that, and how he is not going to deny you this.

He's framing your face with his hands now, a little more confident than that first time at the Tower, when he'd woken you minutes after his own feelings had finally clicked into place.

He's also drawing you in, pulling you close, as he slants successive kisses over your mouth, punctuating them every so often with a long and lingering one where he coaxes your tongue out with his own.

'Reined in intensity' is probably the best way to describe the way his hands are so careful, the way he isn't demanding but asking in turn: want this, want me as much as I want you. ]

[It doesn't take him too long to respond to all of that in kind, because he's just as careful, and still not quite believing the fact that the two of you ever happened, much less the fact that the both of you are back on the same page.

His eyes slide shut midway through the kissing, just as his own become urgent. There's a noise against your mouth, a short gasp punctuated with a whimper of need the moment he's opening up a little more to let your tongues slide against each other.

If it seems like his body's melting a little against yours, it's because he wants you close so damned much, and it's starting to feel like there's too much fabric and air between you both.]

[ He's answering your urgency with his own, and where the sounds you are making ( sounds that are going through him, that ring in his bones ) are soft and short, there's a low, pleased hum in his chest as he wraps his arms around you to drag you closer.

A part of him is flashing back to that first night you see, to the way you fit right up against him, straddling his lap before you were so rudely interrupted by one adorable but needy little kitten.

So yes, he's urging you into that position, fingers curling, palms kneading the planes of your back, down to slide his hands down to bring you closer. ]

[And of course he's letting you reel him in, letting you move him. How could he deny you? How could he not let this happen, now that it's obvious that he can want this?

All of that gives him the brief opportunity to be a little bit above you for a moment, and look down at your face with panting lips and darkened eyes. Every stroke of your hand on his body sent a new shudder through his body, because you're very slowly and surely heating his body up, awakening skin and nerves by setting them on fire, filling his head with static.

He's letting his arms rest right over your shoulders and coming back down again, to take that mouth of yours with his own. The kisses he gives you communicates just the barest extent of his desire, just as much as it is an offering of himself to you.]

Edited 2014-04-02 08:24 (UTC)

[ He's just going to let gravity take you both and sink down into that mattress, his mputh fused with yours. Josh is closing his eyes now, focusing all thought into the way your lips move against his, the feel of your hair as he runs a hand up your neck and into that, the way he can't help but shift against you, his other hand at your waist, keeping you close. ]

Hikaru-- [ it's a strained whisper as he mouths kisses against your cheek, there, by your jaw and ear. The hand running through your hair has fallen to your shoulder now and his fingers curl as weighted breaths escape him.

Your boy is thinking too much, Blade King, and a little embarrassed because if you'll recall that hot seat incident back in Shin Yamatai -- this is all incredibly new.

You'll feel -- especially given how close you are -- that hard-on between his legs. ]

Um.

[ Yeah, someone's feeling overwhelmed. ]

[By Elaine, did you have to sound that way, smell that way? Did you have to taste so fucking perfect (read: exactly as he imagined), and feel like you fit so perfectly against his body?

And yes, he's feeling that too. That last kiss he gives you breaks off with a quiet laugh. And yes, he's murmuring his response over your mouth as he keeps your foreheads pressed together, as his body's shifting, letting his limbs fold all around your form. One of his hands has tangled its fingers between yours. His other hand is resting against the side of your face, and he's rather valiantly resisting the urge to let his fingers chase the line of that jaw, or over your lips.

Maybe later.]

You're not the only one, you know.

[So please: stop thinking. Do continue. Hell, he'll even give you a bit of encouragement, in the form of letting the hand he had against yours slide over your thigh, angling up to snag its fingers oh-so-gently along the waistband of your pants.]

Edited 2014-04-02 08:41 (UTC)

[ The sound that escapes him is something you likely have never heard before: helpless, breathless, a failing attempt at keeping things under control.

( Sorry, Josh, not this time, apparently. )

Wrenching his gaze away from watching your hand now, mouth greedy for another kiss ( and another, and another still ) as his hips shift, because his pants feel tighter than they should be.

He is getting flashes of your hand moving over him, your fingers ( and he has, on that one occassion in class ) tracing the line of him.

Josh's eyes turn to yours then, searching those violet depths as he draws his knees up to cage you in place. ]

[Those movements certainly didn't help, because he has, on occasion, let his thoughts drift down that particular logical progression, the one involving you on him, working at his body, gentle as you are intense, keeping him in place, keeping him together even while you're --

-- hold that thought. He'd rather make it happen. As such, he's letting you drink from his lips again, because he wants to breathe in nothing but you, and chase after the way you taste until he figures it out, along with why it makes him dizzy. He withdraws briefly, in order to pull off the tank top that he has on, and then goes right back down to cover you with his own body again.

A few more kisses on that incredibly soft mouth of yours before he's moving his lips down, to plant a kiss along your jawline, and then another at that spot where your chin joins into your neck, and then along the side of your neck, and then right on your throat. His hand, in the meantime, has undone the top button of your pants.]

Please get me out of the rest of my clothes.

[That request is murmured against your Adam's apple, before he's kissing it. He wants your clothes off too, by the way, but he'll let you take initiative with that if it becomes obvious that you're not going to.]

[ You'll note the way he goes utterly still when you say that, when your hand wanders down to where his thoughts have gone. It's a good kind of stillness, weighted with the edge of anticipation before he's rolling you on your back and slanting his mouth over yours again.

Those are his palms tracing the planes of your body now, even as his mouth is moving from yours to your neck, to the hollow of your collarbone and following the line of that down your chest.

His fingers are following the waistband of your pjs now, one thumb tracing the dip between your abdomen and your hip before he's sliding both hands between the sheets and your ass to curl inwards and just tug that down.

He is deathly quiet, Hikaru. Even as he presses the lightest of kisses over your navel, against the flesh beneath that, before he's dragging those pajama bottoms all the way off along with your underwear and tossing it aside on the bed. ]

[The sound this one makes the moment you have him between your body and the sheets is a mix between a breath he forgot to draw and a sigh of relief, tempered with need. He watches the way your hands run over his body and the way you finish undressing him as if every move you make mesmerizes him. It's the truth: you're a fascinating study of calculated gestures and compassion wrestling with desire, and its threaded into your muscles and bones, under your skin.

Once those pants are off, he's sinking a little more into the sheets and clearly trying to focus on breathing (operative word: 'trying', because it is all sorts of impossibly hot between the two of you). Those eyes of his have never left your face.

How he must look to you at this moment, he can only imagine. His face is a collection of interesting details: panting lips, darkened eyes, cheeks stained with need and the slightest hint of embarrassment/concern (worry that at the end of it, you may still step away from this, from him). That body is flawless and has bled down to the barest essentials in muscle and bone and whatever else allows it to kill as efficiently as possible, because the vessel of Death does not know the meaning of visible scars. The only things that interrupts the smooth paths of unbroken skin are the tattoos that he has started to carry since his ninth life cycle: the thorns, blades, and roses on one arm and the dragon twined about the other, and the kitsune resting on the right side of his stomach, surrounded by a flower that represents unresolved karma.]

[ There is something so incredible about the way everything about you fits. On anyone else, the themes carried by the ink that decorates your skin might look scattered and gaudy because the images appear to have no single unifying pattern. He wouldn't really know, but there are aesthetics that Josh understands and he is slowly learning to broaden the scope of that. He's seen those tattoos before, has skimmed his fingers over the fox at your belly but this moment feels fresh and new and there is no other way to say it: it is a turn-on. Because he has glimpsed sides of you that you have allowed him the chance to see and everything, he's beginning to realize -- everything about you is deliberate.

When he bends down to press his face into your skin, there is no other word for the way he touches you than 'worshipful'. His hands are tentative, the kisses from his lips gentle, because you are so beautiful and the effect you have on him is almost ridiculous.

Fingers tightening on your hips now as the path he charts over the smooth planes of your stomach eith his mouth earns a more demanding edge. Yes, that is the scrape of teeth, yes, that is him gently sucking against your flesh as he attempts to figure out how to move next, because he is incredibly overwhelmed that he is here, with you, like this and he only knows that he wants much, much more. ]

[The warm rush of your breath over his skin alone is enough to make his stomach tighten, and when your lips follow --]

Mm...

[The air's starting to stutter in his lungs even more, short and ragged. It just gets worse when your grip tightens, and when the press of your lips is joined by that hint of teeth and tongue. He can't, at first, stop thinking of how close your mouth is to his hips, his thighs, his cock. Moments after that, he can't think, can't do much else but try and barely succeed to wrench his gaze away and close his eyes in a valiant attempt at not having to dwell on the vision of you down there, practically between his legs (it doesn't work). His own teeth are worrying now, at his bottom lip. His own fingers have threaded up a little into the sheets.]

[ He's catching that, mouth pressed still to your skin, a smile curling his lips as he tracks a path upwards over your solar plexus and then there, over your heart. He'll take this slow ( please forgive him for it later ) because he's still figuring this out, taking it one step at a time.

He's kissing the corner of your mouth now, having moved back over you and it is deliberate, the way he palms the length of you in the hopes that he'll get the reaction that he wants -- you stopping at biting your lip so that he can plant a long one on you. ]

[That alone, at this point, is enough to undo him: it shows, in the way he gasps against your ear, and in the helpless jerk of his hips before he can stop himself. You'll feel it for sure now, how hot and hard he is for you at this moment, and just how far you're capable of driving him up the wall. And to think that the two of you have barely done anything yet.

One of his arms moves up and locks itself around your neck. This is his attempt to bring you as close to him as he possibly can, inasmuch as it is an attempt at anchoring himself in place.

He wants you so damned much, it's almost enough to make him sorry. Almost.]

[ It is a heady feeling: hearing you react, feeling that reaction against him. He's catching your bottom lip now between his teeth, the gesture gentle and careful. When he breaks off, he's catching your gaze, the look in his own eyes is dark and slightly shuttered, as if all the feelings inside of him are becoming a little too overwhelming that he's compelled to hide. ]

Tell me-- [ trying that again, just as he wets his lips with his tongue. ] Tell me how to touch you.

[Could 'he does not care, just touch him everywhere' be a valid answer? With the way his body's responding to yours, that is probably the kind of signal that you're getting. Still:]

I could show you.

[He's not shy about the offer at all. Your hands feel so good on him, and he honestly finds your concern and the tenderness with which you handle him endearing and humbling at equal turns.]

[ How could a statement go straight between his legs and leave him so speechless and turned-on. Josh is unconsciously worrying on his own lip at that, his palm hasn't moved from where you are hard and warm against his fingers -- but he is incredibly still.

He's searching those violet eyes and then replying as best as he can manage given the thickness of need in his throat: ] Yes. Please.

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