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

[ How is it that you know exactly what to say -- and when to say it -- just to get him to relax. As it is, this whole thing is overwhelming for him: the feel of you all around him and beneath him.

Breathing hard now, but struggling for steadiness as he presses kisses along your neck, at the juncture of that and your jaw, teeth gently catching on your ear as his fingers curl over the sheets.

He's pushing himself up now, forearms quivering because every shift only makes him so aware of where the two of you are joined and how tight and hot you are. There's a look on his face that is equal parts helpless and utterly relieved and when he leans in close, the kiss he gives you is tender and hesitant. ]

[Those kisses go a long way in settling him into his skin insofar as he could possibly settle given his rather compromising position. Every breath he draws now is a little more shallow, because the heat in his lungs is building up to be just as worse as the heat twined within his limbs, in his gut. As such, when your lips meet again, he's grateful for the small distraction. It doesn't last long: he needs to come up for air.]

Please fuck me at whatever pace you like, LaRue.

[That is murmured into your ear. Perhaps it is odd that such words could sound... gentle. Pleading.]

[ And at that whisper, there's a visible shudder that goes through Josh, because the way you're talking to him is doing a lot for him.

He starts slow -- just like you asked -- and he's pressing close, tracking kisses over your skin and occasionally coming back up to drink from your lips. Eventually, he sets his weight on his forearms, braced on either side of your head, his fingers playing with your hair.

He has also gone deathly quiet, save for the soft, exhaled sounds that hitch in his throat. ]

[And he'll match you, just like that, for the next few moments as his body's adjusting to the rhythm and rhyme of your coming together, of what it's like to have someone moving inside of him once again, after so long.

It isn't too long, though, before the tension's building between his legs, and the heat's eating at his good sense and his control. That shift becomes obvious in how he starts to moan against your ear or against your mouth, and in the increasingly shattered look on his face. It's matched, as well, by the death grip he has on the bed sheets, and the way his hips are rising up against yours in small, helpless little jerks.]

[ Catching that mouth again with his, and murmuring, softly-- ] I've got you [ --even as his hands move down, fingers easing yours off the sheets before he guides one hand up towards his shoulders and the other tangles your fingers together.

He's trembling as the pace builds, his hips rolling as he thrusts into you, the hand that prompted you to hold onto him skimming a palm now, along the length of your leg. ]

[And he grips tight, matching, inadvertently, the way he's pressing down on the rest of you like he wants nothing more than to have you push into him deeper and meld the two of you together in a way that shouldn't even be possible.

There's a soft cry of your name against the side of your face once the entirety of him tenses, right on the brink of the entirety of him teetering right off the edge of the high that's been building since you started. You'll start to feel it as well, beyond the quiver of his body against your own: the hot spill of him between your bodies as the pleasure in him overflows completely.]

[ He's shaking at that, mouth clamping down on your shoulder as he matches your pace, and it's not long until he's shuddering up against you and curling around your body like he wants nothing more than to hide away in your skin.

His head feels incredibly light, and the rest of him feels on the verge of a collapse, but he's got enough in him to roll you both onto the side. He's let go of your hand now, fingers hooked on your thigh as he keeps you wrapped still, around him. ]

[This is something he's perfectly all right with, because he needs to bring himself back down from the high point that you drove him to. That does include re-learning how to breathe.

Thankfully, your body is the perfect anchor for that. He presses his forehead against your shoulder as he focuses on steadying the rush of air through his lungs, as he shuts his eyes and lets the heat bleed out. A bit after he's done with that, though, he's laughing quietly against your skin.]

This is a problem.

How is this a problem.

[ That's coming out of him a little breathless, because... wow.

Angling his head so that he can peer down at you now and leaning in to catch your lips with his. He loves how you taste. How soft that mouth is. ]

I might end up tiring you out, because I'm perfectly fine with you fucking me for the rest of the night.

[And he's pretty sure that he can last a lot longer than you can.

Yes, that might just be a challenge.]

[ There's going to be a pause as Josh looks askance, as if he's considering those words and turning the idea of them over in his head.

What you'll find next, Blade King, is how he's pulling away and sitting up, fingers curling around your forearms to take you with him as he drags you right over his lap. ]

Is that a dare? [ There's a mischievous twist to his lips that you may have seen once or twice -- it rarely ever comes out, after all.

He's smoothing his hands down the sides of your torso now, before they meet at the small of your back and cup you by the ass. ]

[All of that merits yet another quiet laugh, but it's markedly more breathless and tight than the first one.

And yes, your touch. Did you feel the way he shivered underneath your hands? Probably.]

Maybe.

Pro tip, [ he's whispering that as he rears up a little, and you'll definitely feel him growing hard again, beneath you ] never dare a Brennan.

[ His hands are framing your face now and drawing you close as he slants his mouth upwards against yours. He's also slipping his tongue between your lips, a little more daring now that he's got a bit more confidence, because feeling you fall apart beneath him that first time does wonders for a boy's ego. ]

[Fuck that feels too damned good, it has his cock stirring between his legs, and his breath stuttering out just as badly as his brain is. What's a boy to do when he meets someone who can work him up so much, so quickly?

Still. Good soldiers always finished what they started, and he's not about to let this stand in as much as he can before you inevitably wreck him all over again.]

You know me. [Whispering that, as he nips at your ear.] I like to go after targets that are bigger than I am.

[If you catch his drift. You're... impressive, in a lot of different manners of the word.]

[ And you're going to feel him gasp when you nip at his ear, the way his hands falter on your body when you tell him just that.

Breathless now, as he can't help but bite down on his lower lip. ] Dammit, Hikaru.

What?

[Sweet and innocent, over your mouth.]

I've barely done anything.

[And now he is most definitely doing something, because one of his hands is moving between your bodies, and palming at your length.]

[ This one is going deathly quiet, pun intended. Because he's not going to lie, you work him up pretty fast.

There's a fairly lost look in Josh's eyes as he can't help but focus on the feel of your fingers and palm on him. Eventually though, he takes a breath ( slow, ragged ) as his hand closes over yours, as he guides you up and down the fullness of him.

He's... not going to have any witty comebacks for awhile. Nope. ]

[There's an edge to the smile he's giving you, one that's all sorts of crooked and mischievous. You've done so much in the direction of bringing him back to somewhere better: he could spent a lifetime telling you the full extent of it.

He lets this go on, taking his sweet time, controlling the pace for the both of you. This is deliberate, of course. It'll be fun, after all, to see which one of you ends up caving first.

Then, once more, against your ear:]

I want this in me again. Deeper, this time. [His lips now, with a hint of teeth, against that spot that connects your jawline to your neck.] In a way that lets your mouth cover the ink on my back. [A second nip to your ear, followed by a statement that's spoken in an even lower whisper.] I'll try not to be too loud.

[ He's breathing is much, much shallower now, because the ache between his legs is becoming next to unbearable and you'll feel it: the way he's trembling with the effort to keep himself in check, from going prematurely over that edge.

His head drops to your shoulder right after that nip, and he's shaking with so much need because the image you've just painted for him is too irresistible to pass up.

His hands are also tight, gripping your hips like a lifeline. ]

[And this is precisely the way he wants you. He'll show you as much, with the pleased hum that leaves his throat before he's taking your mouth with his and kissing you something fierce. He lets the movement of his lips match the way he's working you up with his hand.]

Go ahead, Josh. [That is the murmur that follows once he breaks away for some air.] Bring me down. I know you want to.

[He can feel it from you, just as he can feel how hard you are in his grip.]

[ At that prompting, he shifts, pushes you down so that you're almost flat on your back at first, one hand braced at the small of your back to keep you close. And then he's kissing you again -- mouth, cheek, underside of jaw, neck -- and maneuvering you both so that he's got you turned around.

His fingers are curled against your stomach, wrist just close enough to the length of you even as he's tracking tender nips across your shoulder, along the curve of that and where it bleeds into your neck. His other hand is skimming your back now, over the ink, fingers ghosting over the art before they dip lower to stretch you out from this angle. ]

[The shift is enough to knock the breath out of him, and the way you cover him mere heartbeats afterward doesn't give him any time to recover.

This is something he's perfectly all right with. The wonderful way in which he responds to your ministrations is spelled out, perhaps, in the riddle of his breath, the shiver of muscle beneath his skin, the clench and slide of his fingers and toes around the bedsheets beneath you both, and the sounds of pleasure that hitch in his throat.

He goes still, though, the second your fingers push into him again, and whines a little against the sheets. Then the rest of him is sinking down even further, because he's quite certainly starting to lose strength.]

[ At that sound, he's going to press a kiss to the center of your back, right at the heart of that lake montage. He's terribly gentle in the way he's pushing in and pulling out of you, curling his fingers on the inner walls just to test if that is something that you'd like.

And then he's pulling back, though his fingers remain inside of you, to reach for the lubricant you'd given him earlier.

What you'll hear, is the way that cap slides off to roll to the floor, the breaths Josh takes in time to the sound of the contents sliding out, and the hitched and swallowed sounds as he palms himself.

Yes, he is thinking, even now, of not hurting you in any way. ]

[That he trembles every time you move that way inside of him might be enough of an indicator that it makes him feel impossibly good. In fact, he's breathless in the aftermath of such attentions, and incredibly quiet as he listens to the way you prep up.

This is the sort of wait that could kill a man. This is the sort of anticipation that makes one a prisoner of his own needs.]

[ The only reason why he takes longer than he should is because touching himself to make him ready for you is it's own kind of torture. He takes it as an opportunity to let his gaze roam over your back, to drink in the sight of you flat against those sheets, ready and waiting.

He pulls his fingers out then, let's his hand move lower to where he can cup your balls as he shifts into a better position behind you, the hardness of his length hinting right up against your entrance.

He stops fondling you when his free hand comes around to close around your length, each upward stroke matched by mouthed kisses on your back or the sweep of his tongue over that ink on your skin.

His grip is firm and a little tight, and his hips are moving against yours, rubbing the hard and swollen length of him between the cheeks of your ass.

Close, yes, but not enough. He's not really doing this on purpose. Maybe. ]

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