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

[ And because you issued that threat: have another kiss, love, this time with the faintest hint of teeth. That's also his hand tugging at that shirt of yours out of those pants you've tucked them into so that he can touch the skin underneath. ]

I'd love to do that, babe. But I'd rather not get in trouble.

[ Palm over your stomach now, and then lower, over the bulge of your cock beneath the fabric of your pants.

Yeah. Upstairs might be a good idea. ] Let's go get your present.

[At this point, the mere skim of your palms over him is enough to make his stomach tighten, and push him to lean against you since he's suddenly weak in the knees/so badly in need of you close.]

Yes. Please.

[Do excuse the lack of eloquence, LaRue, and take some take responsibility for it while you're at it.]

[ He'll lead you upstairs then, to the hallway leading to his room. Like he said earlier, it's just the two of you tonight.

There, on the bed, is the book, by the way. He didn't have time to wrap it, but sometimes, giftwrap is overrated anyway.

Those are his arms coming around your waist, and have a kiss on the side of your head to boot. ]

Advanced happy birthday, Hikaru.

[At least the walk gives him a bit of time to at least try and compose himself. It isn't as easy as it should be, though, because he kind of really fucking wants you.

But let's hold that thought for a moment, because the sight of your gift is enough for him to distract him.

Yes, you're treated to the rare sight of one Hikaru Shinta genuinely awed and happy and pushed beyond words. He looks his age now, as he's picking up that book, and letting his fingers run over the cover and the spine before he opens it.

You really got this for him. Yes, you said as much, but now he's actually holding it in his hands while you're holding him close.]

Thank you.

[Because it can't be said enough. And he's saying it as he turns to you, all wide eyed and young.]

[ If he could punch a happy fist into the air he really, really would, because wow, shit, he wants to take the way you're looking at him at this very moment and commit it to memory. Forever.

He's leaning in and nuzzling your cheek as he pulls you back into him and threads his fingers together to lock you in that loose embrace. ]

You know, [ he's not even going to stop himself from smiling against your skin. ] When you look at me like that, you make me feel like the luckiest guy in the world.

The feeling's mutual, you know.

[That comes out a little soft from too much emotion, because there are few things that can match the kind of security and joy that he can get by just being with you like this.]

[ Wow, don't look at him like that ( no, always do, please ) those eyes of yours are kind of deadly. ]

I love you.

[ He's going to brush his lips up against that mouth of yours again, in a kiss that's going to try to start slow but spike quick because (a) alone in house, (b) you've worked him up, and (c) does he actually need any more reason than just the fact that he wants you? ]

[And he is perfectly all right with that kiss, and those unspoken reasons of yours. He's so fine with it, in fact, that before your lips even met his, his lips were already parting, and his eyes were already sliding shut as if doing that will help him taste you better.

Barely a minute in, and his body's easily swinging back into your space, back against your body. He's slowly, almost absently setting the book down in favor of letting his hand slide over your face. The better to let his fingers tangle themselves up in your hair, and help him hold you in place.]

[ There's a sigh when he can slide his tongue against your mouth in the hopes of coaxing yours out to play. He's also shifting nearer, hips flush against yours, palms moving now over the shape of your body as if he could let them memorize each dip and angle.

The familiar taste of you prompts a sound from the core of him: pleased, hungry, and so full of want. ]

I am so glad we're got the house to ourselves tonight.

[Making an amused sound as he's tracing your jawline.]

Should I assume that you planned it that way, or that we just got very lucky?

[By the way. Him sounding a little low and breathless? Your fault. He has kind of wanted you to fuck him since you came up to his room.]

We got lucky.

[ Hey. You're not the only one who's a little dizzy from the way all the blood's rushed from his head to... other places. ]

Babe... [ soft and warning now, ] you keep on touching me like that I can't guarantee that the buttons of your shirt will survive.

[Well, well, well.

Leaning in now, to trace your earlobe with his tongue nice and slow and say:]

That's kinky, Mr. LaRue. Kinky in a way that I really don't mind since I can always have you pay for damages.

[Would that be his other hand tracing its fingers down the length of one of your arms? Yep.]

[ Is that a breathless laugh escaping him? Yes, that is most definitely a breathless laugh escaping him.

He is also going to start backing you towards his bed. ]

I'd sooner buy you a new one, but your stylist might consider my budget too small to do your wardrobe justice.

If you let me make you my kept man, then budget wouldn't be a problem whenever it occurs to you to rip my clothes off.

[Yes, he went there. Trash talk with you is so much fun, as is this whole you bringing him into your bed.]

[ What is it about you talking to him like that that's such a goddamned turn-on.

Okay, first things first: retaliate by smoothing his hands along the jut of your hip and down the curve of your ass so he can press right up against you. ]

Mmm, tempting. [ Nibbling on your lower lip now. Just a little hint of teeth. ] But I'm not that kind of guy.

[ Leveling a look straight at you, Blade King. ]

I play for keeps.

[Has he ever told you how much he loves the way you do that? Touch him, that is.

Granted, it's not like he's ever bothered hiding his enjoyment before. And you're intelligent enough, aren't you, young man?]

So you intend to be the one keeping me, is it?

[The mirth in his tone and in his eyes, however, is definitely underscored with another feeling entirely.

Sometimes, in moments like this, "love" almost feels like a quaint word to describe what he feels for you.]

[ Consider yourself sat down on that bed with him bending from the waist and catching those lips of yours possessively. God, help him. You taste divine. ] If you have objections, Hikaru, you should have left them on the porch.

[ Has he ever told you that he loves the way you smell right where your jaw angles into your neck? Shame on him.

He's going to pin you to the mattress now and fuck him, maybe that was a mistake ( yes, you've worked him up a lot, he's kind of straining in his jeans. ) ]

Christ— [ fumbling at those buttons now ] —I am not kidding, babe, just get your goddamn shirt off.

[There's a little laugh over your skin and close to your ear. It hitches just as much as his breath has, as a result of all of the little things that you've been doing to him.]

What a mouth you have on yourself tonight, LaRue.

[Saying that as he's twining the fingers of both of his hands between the fingers on both of yours, and dipping in to kiss you as he oh-so-gently moves your hands away from his body. After that's done, he's breaking away from that kiss with a crooked smile, and keeping his gaze right on your face as he obediently unbuttons his shirt.]

I'm doing this on one condition.

[ You torture him for fun. He's pretty damn sure of this. ]

What.

[ Are his eyes a little dark as he's trying ( read: trying ) to focus on your face and not... where... those... hands... are. ]

[You mean the hands that are finally moving back and letting that shirt of his hang wide open, right?

Yeah, you probably do.]

I want you to think of the dirtiest, kinkiest possible things that you could be doing to me tonight, and I want you to do them.

[Saying that with a remarkable professionalism, given the fact that while he's speaking, he's reaching out to undo the button and zipper on your jeans.

Trust in the Blade King to want to be helpful that way, right?]

[ His thought processes have kind of stuttered to a stop, so forgive your boy if he's going to look at you and just... blink.

—What was that again? Right. ]

Um. [ Translation: Okay? ]

[Lifting an eyebrow at you now, as a tiny smirk is crossing his lips.]

Shall I help you with your shirt, or are you going to help me with mine first?

[Let's carry on, shall we?]

Edited 2014-08-13 15:35 (UTC)

[ Vocab loading in progress.

He's going to bring his mouth right up against yours again, even as his palms are moving up your chest to push that shirt aside.

He can multitask, dammit. ]

[And if he's laughing a little into the way that you're kissing him, please don't blame him. You're so cute when you cannot Words, and the situation's even cuter to him when he knows that it's his fault.

So yes, for a brief moment, both of his hands are holding your face before he's moving, letting his palms trace the expanse of your shoulders and skim down over your body, then up, underneath your shirt. The better to let him familiarize himself, once more, with the feel of your skin before he's pulling that shirt off of you.

His lips never stray far from yours the entire time. They only move away, in fact, when they have to.]

[ You'll hear a muffled sound of protest from him when anything ( that damn shirt, for one ) gets in the way of him breathing in the air from your lungs. He's also crawling over you on that bed, as he shrugs the offending article of clothing to who knows where on the floor before he lets his mouth press against your stomach, up your bared chest, tongue sliding over one of your nipples.

He is so happy that you weren't wearing a tank top today because he just might have strangled something ( not you ) if he had to deal with one more goddamn layer before he can get to the skin underneath.

Your boy's pretty aggressive in bed tonight, Hikaru. That's evident in the way he's already got your fly unbuttoned and zipped down, the way he's angling his arm in a way so that he can slip his fingers beneath the waistband of your briefs because he just really, really needs to touch you. ]

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